#ulthane darksiders

[proxis-shattered-expectations]

Tell Ulthane .....

He is the last hope...

Of an old fool....

For Darksiderstober 2022 Day 29 "Forgiven" After everything that transpired between them, and witnessing the consequence of their actions....both feel a great deal of Guilt. While Azrael has been trapped in a tower with a century to wallow in regret, Ulthane took strides in trying to make amends. Ulthane despite his feelings about causing the apocalypse, knew there was something wrong with the balance, and he was not the maker to turn away a friend in need. I'd imagine after all this, Azrael's only wish is that before he faces the judgement, that Ulthane might be able to forgive him. Hope ya like, prompts are here , and stay tuned!

Art is mine

Azrael and Ulthane belongs to Darksiders universe

Prompts by @another-darksiders-blog

Sponsored by @imagine-darksiders

[the-makers-daughter]

Forge Lands/Maker headcanons

First, let’s talk about the environment these hardy people come from.

The Forge Lands are typically cold. No matter the region you're in or the season that it is, it is cold. Wear a coat or pelt when you visit!

The water is crisp, clean and so, so blue. You can see down at least 20 feet in one of their grand lakes. 

The air smells of sweet pine and snow, as such, most Makers carry this scent with them. Smoke from their forges and the mountainous air.

The Makers would definitely enjoy colder weather compared to warmer climates as that is what they were born with and are used to. They’re the “Wear shorts and tank top in a blizzard” type of kid at school

More under the cut. I kinda went ham on these headcanons rip

The Makers pride themselves on strength, both emotionally and physically. If you're having a problem, you can pound your emotions out into a piece of scrap metal. Never tell others what you're going through. If a Maker asks for your help in something if you are not an immediate family member is a great sign of trust and respect.

The Makers have a village mentality. They are all a tightly knit community that regard each other as family. Despite being so standoffish with outsiders, Makers desire and long to be with their family and community. Being separated is a great strain on their mentality.

Makers are definitely a show- not tell- kind of people. If you were dating one, you would almost confuse their gestures of affection as just being kind and thoughtful. They will be your handyman or make you things all the time. You mention something is broken? It will be fixed by the end of the day. They are proud though so they will make it obvious they fixed it but “not because they like you or anything…” but because it was necessary. (even if it really wasn’t.)

If you had a family of makers as your neighbors you would probably hate them! As artists and creators, Makers often follow their inspiration when it calls. At any time of day. Your sleep schedule will be ruined by the sounds of their backyard forge lighting up and the sounds of pounding metal. But on the bright side, they are basically a neighborhood watch/vigilante force. They won't interact with you unless it's to tell you about a robber that was trying to break into your house that they apprehended only moments before. 

Despite being proud, most if not all of them will consult either Elder Eideard or Muria. Depending on the area the particular individual was struggling with. The great chieftain does not get that much opportunity to guide as he did in his youth since the Makers population dropped after their war on the dragons. Still, his people seek out his guidance regarding important decisions such as marriage (as dictated by tradition.) Muria guides the makers spiritually of course, so they more than likely seek her out for injuries or strange dreams. Some in the past have even asked to have her read their fortune through the Tree of Life.

Makers can get along with others when duty calls, but they would much rather be left to their own devices; completely separate from the troubles of other worlds. They do not even want to tangle themselves with the council as they seem more than content to throw their weight around, no matter who gets hurt. 

On that topic of throwing their supernatural weight around, that opinion goes for the Nephilim. They do not care for how the Nephilim left nothing but death and destruction in their wake.

When they are not making weapons of mass destruction, saving worlds, or just generally not trying to fix the mistakes of others, Makers do delight in the occasional festival. Things like the Summer and Winter soltices. These celebrations are where meeting a Maker is best for you. They are more likely to be welcoming of newcomers. These celebrations are to bring joy to their existence. Nights filled with drinking, wrestling, dancing and singing all night long.

Makers average to be around 12 feet tall (around 3.6 meters for people using metric) 

From their facial appearance and structure, Makers have a particularly sensitive sense of smell. Or at the very least, Nephilim carry a strong scent on them. It is nearly impossible for a Nephilim to hide themselves from a Maker. The face shape could also be indicative of the cold climate as well.

[imagine-darksiders]

To Hell with it. Big humpback whale Ulthane for Mermay.

Y/n is the survivor of a shipwreck and Ulthane, a mer who's lost his entire pod, finds them clinging to a large piece of driftwood, barely staying afloat in the open ocean.

Understanding that humans are predominantly a land-dwelling species, he brings them to a deserted island within his territory, pleased to at last have some company to stave off his isolation.

Y/n is just trying to get off the island, perplexed as to why this gruff, enormous mer keeps leaving them beautiful but functionless seashells, catching fish for them to eat, and otherwise thwarting any attempts they make to swim out into deeper waters.

[guardianoftheotherside]

Angel/Demon:* bully a human *

Ulthane:

[voidwritesstuff]

Distant Gunsmoke

Cw: grief,guilt, strife has complicated feelings towards Death.

Summary: Strife thought he would go about his night watch duty calmly,but it shows him just how much he needed a genuine act of kindness.

A/N1: my entry to strife september,hosted by the brilliant,talented @darkdemeter check her stuff out shes so cool yall. Also hi Dem this is Jer (in one of my many side blogs) I can finally show you one of the 2 (and soon to be 3) full fics i wrote. This one is ONE MONTH OLD. IVE WAITED SO LONG OH MY GOD.

A/N2: Hi new readers, I write character studies. X Readers are not really something im good at (for personal reasons i wont get into here),for X readers check out Dem and many other cool fic writers in this community (moodymisty,grandaughterogg,etc)

Beauty Is in the eye of the beholder ,or so humans say.

Well,Strife can't help but agree.

The gunslinger sits on one of the high branches of the Maker Tree,sunset casting golden light across the barren,sundered remains of The Kingdom of Man. He breathes in the crispy air of late afternoon and relaxes just a little as purple-ish blue shadows harshly blanket over the cityscape And his tall,imposing form.

He's well aware none of his siblings ever sat down and appreciated the Beauty within humanity's craftsmanship. From cozy,warm homes where bonds were formed and nurtured, to tall buildings reaching for the sky-Appropiately Named 'Sky Scrapers'-,Man could make things other beings would only dream of.

Not that all this surprises Him, he knew from day one that these frail beings were important and capable. He's seen it all in his travels across this wasteland and his stay as a 'refugee' here in Haven.

If only his siblings,specially Death,could see what he sees.

...If that were to be possible,he might get along better with his grump of an older sibling and the rest of his remaining bretheren.

The reaper would never admit it, but up until now hes seen humans as things. He May know that they are important,but the specifics are lost on his grief-addled mind. No matter how much the spirit of timeless unrest tried to explain, all his words are absorbed by the high walls of thick despair Death has built around him,his heart,his mind And,dare Strife say it, soul.

By now he doesn't bother,waste of breath and energy.

Yet a part of him still hopes the pale rider finally changes his view on things.

Family,though sometimes less than functioning,was still family. At least to Strife.

Sure,he had been raised alongside the old reaper,but when you're one of the four remaining nephilim....Well family acquires a whole new meaning. One the gunslinger still has to figure out.

He sighs loudly,wondering if any human within the trunk of the tree could advice him on how to get along better with his siblings. He doesn't doubt for a moment that one of those answers might just be "therapy"

Now he'd never admit it...But Creator,he'd like to go to therapy some day.

...Could human therapists even handle The ammount of trauma he's got?

Could he handle it if it ever came up?

Jokes and bravado was all fun and games until the chips are down and him opening up might just save him,his siblings, and mankind. He desperately wants Fury to shut up and listen to what he has to say,but he knows his sister well and she's not going to stop until she hits her head against the wall...repeatedly.

He just hoped she didn't have to go through all that pain to finally see things as they are.

But his sister's...his siblings actions are something he can't control,or make himself responsible for. And he's still yet to make his peace with it.

God,Why were bonds so...difficult?

Anxiously he taps on his helmet,now resting on his lap,as night falls. Here, under the starlet blackness above,is where danger begin to plot,scheme and -Creator forbid- strike.

The horseman rubs the exhaustion out of his yellow eyes. As he does so,he remembers young War couldn't discern Strife's yellow sclera from his actual ochre colored eyes.

It makes him chuckle with endearment, tiredness dissipating for a few seconds before returning with full force.

He's so tired...

He's tired of being lied to,he's tired of him and his siblings being in their head instead of focusing on the now.

Grief stuck to them all like Spiderwebs on corners,leaving them two options: face their past and move on,or wither away in bitterness. 

For now,he can guess that three out of the four that they are Will make it out of that web.

And still,he worries for the one less capable of doing so.

Upwards does his gaze go, noticing the smallest,dying star struggling to light up the darkness. No other of its bretheren help, so its left to agonize into an uncertain future.

The image makes his eyes burn,he feels his chest tighten and....

--You've spent a long time up there...--Comes the voice of Ulthane from a small balcony/platform underneath the branch he's sitting atop.

Strife leads his thumbs to wipe the corners of his eyes--Right...right...--he winces at how his voice breaks. He sniffs loudly and grabs his helm

--Y'alright?

Like he's done a thousand,million times,he puts on his helmet over his chiseled,handsome features,effectively shutting off his emotions--Jus' peachy-- He replied--Jus' peachy...

With a gesture of his hand,the disguise of Jones comes up,and he pushes away the memory of Death teaching him illusion magic. The tenderness of the moment is too much for him to bear right now,the smile of his child self all too bright against the monster he is now.

And the smoldering warmth in his oldest brothers eyes...

Heavy boots clatter on the balcony. Strife...Jones, looks up at the maker and he hates how in this form he's the small one.

--Y'dont seem right t'me...--Ulthane said with something akin to a fatherly concern.

But the rider shrugs and finds his bravado that he pulls over his face like curtains behind a Window.--Doesn' matter,the scenery really jus' stole my attention.

And he leaves for the entrance to Haven to begin his nightly watch as he usually volunteers to do.

Ulthane watches Strife go,eyes narrowing with a glint of pity. He still remembers the hard time he gave to the gunslinger when he first sneaked into the tree, posing as a human.

Old as he is,the Black Hammer could smell his nephilim nature a mile away. But after a brief-albeit agressive- chat,his antagonism of the rider lessened over time and quite quickly.

Tender heart Strife's got.

Well,his siblings do call him the 'delicate one'

Isn't it concerning how much his siblings haunt his mind?.

Behind his hood,feeling like a cheap imitation of his youngest of kin, Strife walks to the entrance with one of the makers that wait with him for this routine. She also knows who-what he is.

--Hey! Evening!--Comes the voice of the female maker,blonde hair and carrying a gigantic battle axe. He feels a little guilty he doesn't remember her name.

--Howdy!--He drawls, a big grin on his face.

--Took you a bit...--She pointed out,a bit concerned--Y'usually 'ere before nightfall..

With lips a little pursed,he shrugs and adds--I...fell asleep.

--But you dont need sleep?

--It's uh...pleseant --Which wasn't a complete lie,he liked to sleep...but he wasn't sleeping up in that branch.

More like....wallowing?

Thankfully the maker drops it, knowing all beings were quirky like that. Makers most of all,but Strife wouldn't be surprised if Nephilim won in that regard- They're a mix of Angel and Demon,surely something in their internal wiring has to be a little janky.

Like that one time he got stuck in his Anarchy form. He was a little too crazed with bloodlust, and then he thoroughly freaked out when he realized he couldn't get back to his normal self.

Fury and War were a little worried,if not amused.

But it was Death who sat down with him and actually helped him calm down and return to normal. Bitter,old and grumpy reaper sat infront of him and in his sardonic way guided him to a point where he was calm.

To this day,he wonders if the pale rider was talking from experience-He'd give anything to hear the story if that was the case.

Yet the sentiment is not lost on him,the implicit,crushing worry in the actions of the eldest nephilim. He really tries to hate him,he really does try...

His pondering takes up most of the night,he's silent and thumbing his guns reflectively. If the maker beside him noticed,she didn't say anything.

But he is taken out of it when he hears a set of slow,Tiny steps behind him. He turns with his brows furrowed,its a bit past midnight- all kids should be asleep by now,and adults too.

Yet he sighs in recognition at the child. Matted,messy and long light blonde hair,grey eyes and pale skin. He can see the lines of the sheets and pillows pressed into her features,curling around her eyebrows,forehead And the beggining of her nosebridge.

--Angie...--Chided Strife,slowly walking up to the kid and kneeling infront of her--Whats the matter,Kiddo? What're ya doin' up so late?

The girl leaned into his touch when his hand went to push away her thin and almost platinum hair. --Uhm...I...I couldn't sleep.

He held back a sigh,he hopes she doesn't wander off--D'you know why?

--I..i worry..--Angie whispered,looking at the ground--Mama says we'll be fine but..--She sighs and rubbs the exhaustion out of her eyes--When..when I worry I get nightmares, i don't...i don't want nightmares

--You can stay for a bit--He resolved, patting her shoulder gently--Calm down,and then back to bed, young Lady

The girl smiled a little and nodded,waddling over to the spot at the edge of the balcony/entrance of the tree had. Both sit and watch the barren world shadowed in darkness with little Glimmers of moonlight-Like how hope feels when it finally begins to peek through the black clouds.

Strife feels the kid lean on him,looking at the world that once was her home. His brown eyes look down at the messy head of hair and he sighs. With a gentleness thats so unbecoming for a horseman, he begins to untangle the strands that gleam with white highlights.

--You remind me of someone...--He murmured--His hair always gets messy,even as a full grown adult.

Angie giggled--Well,uhm..I Like playing in the mud, and Rolling around...mom says thats why Its always like that

He let out an amused scoff--Yep,that'll do it. --He grinned--Rowdy thing arentcha?.--The kid shrugged. --I can't say you'll grow out of it, my brother sure as hell didn't.--Heavenly are the giggles that the kid lets out, he wonders how the world can be so cruel to spoil such a pure thing. Fills him with rage.

Eventually he finished with his task of untangling her hair,now it curls and falls past her gentle face. Her eyelids begin to fall closed and her body rests against his, he sighs and Gently he begins to softly sing a lullaby.

Its old,older than mankind, older than him.

How old it is? Strife isn't sure. All he knows is that Death sung it to him,and the gunslinger sung it to war,and Now he sings it to this human. Who is unaware of the milenia old culture being imparted upon her right now.

But it does the trick,working like a charm as Angie falls asleep not soon after. He sighs in relief and returns to watch the cityscape for a little.

--Angela...!--Came the voice of the kid's mother,soft as to not wake anyone but loud enough for him to hear. She pushes back her own bed-head, messy blond hair and her green eyes narrow with motherly disdain.

He chuckled and said--Took care of it already,Gabriella.

The older human woman Gently picked up her sleeping kid and sighed--She scared me to the death just now,I woke up and couldn't find her...Thank you,Jones.

Strife shrugged--Jus' doin ma job.

Gabriella nodded with a tired,small smile--Do you want some tea? It's getting cold.

Really? He hasn't noticed.

Well...he does run naturally warm so...no surprise there.

--Sure--He answered,to Keep up appereances mostly but he did enjoy a good cup of tea. --Hey uh- there's probably more supplies now after our last run so...--His request dies on his tongue as shame creeps into his throat.

But the woman's eyes widen with recognition,which confuses him a little--Ah,yeah I'll Check that. First I'm putting this trouble maker to bed and I'll get to your tea

He nodded--Alright

Gabriella walks out,murmuring something about how she "Hopes the tea she makes tastes exactly how he described it". He pays it no mind,Specially as the female maker he had as a companion chuckled and joked--Your big brother instincts came out on that one...

The rider scoffed and rolled his eyes,dismissing her words with a hand gesture. But it's clear from his silence that he's giving her the reason.

And his silence lingers even after he hears the human woman walk into the main chamber of the Maker Tree, her soft steps barely echo even in the graveyard like silence of the world she finds herself in.

--Here...--She said softly,handing Him a mug of brick red,handmade. He can see the small handprints that denote that a human made it.

--Since when do we have mugs?

Gabriella chuckled--I made them

His brows raised with pleaseant surprise--That's really awesome! Where'd you find the clay though?

--Last supply run before the one you did the other day. Ulthane helped me Cook It and glaze it.--She laughed softly--Angie wanted to come with and...

--Let me guess,she toussled 'round in the dirt and mud?--he asked with a Snicker.

--Yup...--Smirked the human.

--Sound's a hell lot like my youngest sibling

He holds the warm cup between his hands,rough and a little scarred. This disguise only reflected his true self,this human visage was covered in scars from battles. And even if nobody could tell what he was in this magic ruse he's concocted, his story still told itself through the little things.

As humans say,the devil's in the details.

--You've never talked about your siblings--Gabrielle noted, a little worried--or you,for that matter. You only mentioned that one anecdote about the tea and--She stopped herself as if she had a spoiled a surprise-- Doesn't matter. Your siblings...Are they okay?

He nodded--Just peachy,trust me. They're hard to kill--He half joked,but then he made a brief and pensive pause. He can see the humans brows arch and her lips purse,so unlike Him to go quiet mid-sentence-- Maybe I'll tel you an' lil' Angie about them some other time,Gabi.

--Of course--the woman smiled with warmth,motherly warmth--I have no doubt they're as resilient,and good, as you are

Within his disguise,he winces.-- we...We aren't good.

--I'm sure you've done your fair share of bad things in these trying times..but your actions now show how far you've come.

He sighed--You know? My youngest brother had said something like that once. --He smirked as he remembered the wild goose chase him and War had been sent on back when they were still chasing Lucifer-- He sat me down at this beautiful, beautiful cliff. We...we had some bad memories attached but we couldnt really leave...

Strife had inherited Death's talent as a storyteller,and hes not surprised to see Gabrielle sit and listen attentively.

--We...we were on a job,we had done a thing there..something I'm not proud of. That we aren't proud of,no matter how much some of us lie to ourselves--He scratched the bridge of his nose anxiously. Unconciously including himself in the fact that he also lied to himself quite a lot-- I had said something bitter about how that place was a testament to our failures

Gabi put a hand on his wrist and squeezed it fondly--D'aw,Jones...

He shook his head--Dont worry,My lil' brother Wa--He stopped himself mid sentence,biting his tongue--Wah- William looked at me in the eye and said "Let this be a reminder of how far we've come, and how much we yet have to achieve" an' lemme tell ya,for a guy built like a brick shit house...well he can be quite insightful

The human woman scoffed--Often the youngest tend to see things in a way us old farts don't-- she half joked,throwing a conspiratorial wink his way as both begin to hear a set of small steps--And speaking of...

Both turn to see Angela run at Jones to give him a tight,loving hug--Goodnight Mr.Jones! Thank you for protecting Us--Then she faced her mother--I know you said I had to sleep but...I didn't want to go to bed without saying goodnight!! He stays up all night to watch over us and...

--Okay,Wee one,y'said yer goodnights,C'mon--The female maker picks up the kid and gestures to the older human woman--You too,Gabi.

Gabriella nodded at her "fellow" human and wished him a calm evening,then she follows the maker into the tree. He's rendered alone,with himself and his thoughts.

Strife scoffs out a chuckle,wind pushing the leaves to rustle Gently and making his ears twitch. Even now,he's alert.

Then he returns to face the sundered city and he tries to push down the wave of feelings that threatens to break on him and drown him in foam. To help combat this,he drinks from the tea that hasn't gone cold given his furnace temperature that he carried.

But it turns out that it only helps to finish forming the tide that was looming over him.

First comes the taste,earthy,spicy,a bit rudimentary. Then,the smell of manually grounded spices and herbs...

His mind flashes to happier times,how he traveled with Death,Back when they were both young and the masacre was ways away in time. It was cold, neither felt it but the gunslinger could see his breath fog in the air.

Death was a complete different person before the erradication,still sharp and deadly but with a soft side reserved to his siblings.

At that time,both took shelter within a cave. He made a little Fire and brewed a batch of tea for both of them, he taught his brother how to make it.

Tasted just like it does now,the flavor swirling in his tongue with pleaseant nostalgia. Didn't he make that same tea for Fury and War when they got back?

Didn't Death ruffle his hair and gave him one of his half-assed compliments?.

It's all so vivid. Those clawy fingers that messed with his locks,that raspy,endeared and endlessly, purely warm tone as he said "For a rascal like you,that's quite a good tea." His gaze was melted honey behind those firey eyes that look so much like the gunslinger's, the slight quirk in his lips back when his face wasn't always covered.

He misses seeing his brother's face,the face he always seeked when he had a bad dream,the face that offered comfort and safety and un-ending love for him and his siblings.

He misses his family.

And finally,the tide breaks to swallow him whole.

Strife,Spirit of timeless unrest,the white rider,horseman, cries. 

[voidselfshipp]

Can somebody make a bingo card for when darksiders 4 drops?(is it 4? 5?) Or like the Next trailer drops?.

I think 3 things that need to be on the card could be:

Makers return (with a vengance)

Vulgrim is back at it again (funky demon of capitalism)

Samael makes a come back (he never left)

Feel free to reblog and add your own suggestions in the tags

[functionaldisaster]

Terrible news for the 8 unfortunate souls following me. I had some free time, got brainrot and decided to try drawing body hair.

I apologize.

[mintcrows]

greetings from the third kingdom!

darksiders 2 version

[darksiderscreations]

Merry Christmas! I wish you a happy new year and many delicious tangerines! :D

So...and how do you think the Horsemen would celebrate this holiday?

Thank you for the kinds wishes! I love tangerines XD

Well, in a more human-influenced horsemen world, I'm sure the Holidays would be very interesting. 😂

If we're talking Christmas, I think the horseman would enjoy it. Though it may take quite a bit of explaining of the whole ordeal. They'd never admit it, but I'm certain the four would be excited at the thought-particularly Strife, of course.

Death, in particular, would be grateful for any thoughts shined his way. A gift? For the man who's literally been through hell time and time again, upon having the crushing weight of looking after his brethren forced upon him? He may even let the slightest bit of emotion grade his features behind that mask of his. Though again, he hides this very well-he'd never let his siblings see such vulnerability.

Fury wouldn't know what the hell to do, though for her human friend she'd certainly...attempt to join in on the fun. Creation help you if she decides to gift you something😂

War is surprisingly thoughtful, I would think.

Strife most definitely gets everyone a gag gift. And if nephilim could get intoxicated (I don't think they can?) but if so, we all know Strife would be having a great time.

Now, focusing on New Years! The horsemen's human company surely would have told many stories and traditions. To the horsemen of course, time is completely different. To spend such an evening in preparation for yet another year seems rather trivial, especially when nephilim live so long.

It's Strife who has to remind his brethren of just how short of lives humans live.

Speaking of Strife, he's the only one who truly adopts the idea of New Year's eve and attempts to join his human companion in all the festivities suggested.

I think Death wouldn't really partake in many activities, however he'd find himself enjoying your company. He's probably lounging about somewhere where he can watch you and the others from the top of a book or a cup of tea.

Fury gets a kick out of beating strife at any of the festivities. Could potentially turn into a heated fight. Watch out, hah.

War is just content to be around good company, much like his eldest brother. He may try to enjoy some of your ideas, though I imagine he'd have some difficulty understanding the meaning of it all. He'd continuously search for an answer from you.

And I don't know about any of you; but when the countdown came about, I'd crush every single one of those horsemen in a giant hug. Strife may try to sling you about in your tiny form. Prepare for that😝

[monochromatictoad]

I got Darksiders 3 yesterday and I am currently playing through it. First impressions, I love the visuals, but the controls are hard to get used too. Of course I'm playing it on the switch, but the camera is very unruly. However, I love Fury so much more than I thought I would. The Watcher following her? Love her. Envy? Love her. Ulthane? Love him. Vulgrim? Love him. So far I love it. I also love Fury's accent? Also, Strife is in the disguise as Jones right? Or was that just a fandom thing? Because, I love Jones as well.

[chershire23]

Been getting real deep into the Darksiders fandom and have found my new favorite character, Ulthane. This is my first rough sketch of him and I had to do a lot of photo referencing to find the proper way to draw him. Thank you @imagine-darksiders for inspiring me to draw the best dad of the apocalypse!

[darksiders-scenarios]

Imagine Samael and Ulthane forming a legendary bond over their favourite game - Whack a Pigeon - consisting of wooden angel figures, including one resembling Abaddon. With Samael's involvement, "Whack a Pigeon" is now infused with demonic energy, with onlookers testing their reactive skills by dodging embers and laughing off singed eyebrows. Ulthane, meanwhile, delightfully embraces the chaos, heartily slapping Samael on the back whilst occasionally fanning the flames out.

[the-makers-daughter]

Pick one song that relates to Nyörun. Why do you relate it to her?

If You and I Were Friends - from the Gingiva OST.

It has this ethereality that I equate to Nyörun's presence. Especially if you were inside her den in Darksiders 2. I enjoy a lot of ambient type music.

This particular song also has what sounds like many voices joined together, which kinda emphasizes how she is able to communicate with The Great Tree. She's seen and lived so many lives as she grows up and uncovers her destiny is intertwined with the Tree of Life.

The music also sounds lonely, warm and safe. She misses her family but will carry out her duty. Luckily, Ulthane is there on Earth as well, so neither of them have to endure anything alone.

Thank you for asking!

[imagine-darksiders]

Howdy!

I hope the day is just as beautiful as you! 🧡✨

I heard you were taking drawing requests? If still so, I would love to see your take on Ulthane holding a toddler. Especially one who thinks he's the funniest thing ever.

I mean think about it, he's already such a dad with regular-sized humans. Could you imagine the complex existential crisis he would have over a bumbling toddler? One who's still learning their expressions?

I don't know, I just think Ulthane having to come to the stark realization that humans somehow get smaller is a hilarious concept to me.

AnYhOo, this is a request only if you still have the time and energy. If not then no worries and just know you are loved and appreciated!

Today on 'Things I didn't know I needed until I read this ask.'

Aka; Ulthane meets his match in a human toddler and the other humans find it absolutely hilarious.

They ask if he needs any help looking after her and he's like 'No, no! I'm Ulthane Blackhammer, I can handle a youngling.'

He then proceeds to lose her after looking away for like 0.04 seconds and has a complete meltdown until he spots her curled up in his scarf.

[guardianoftheotherside]

Ulthane:*see Angel for the first time*

Ulthane:

[robotdragonfanatic]

Does Azrael know Ulthane because he asked the Maker to help maintain Eden? He kept it hidden for millenia and "didn't want to see it in ruin". Plus, after getting there, it looked barely worse than most other ruins that DID'T have an age without care and maintenance.

Add to that the fact that Ulthane is openly sympathetic towards humans, Azrael likely knew he was the only one he could turn to

Is that why those two trusted eachother so much before Abaddon screwed everything up?