imagine-darksiders:

Makers putting armour on their human friends to keep them safe like humans put coats on their dogs to keep them warm

imagine-darksiders:

Ulthane probably: If humans didn’t want to be held like little babies then they shouldn’t have been made roughly the size and shape of little babies.

imagine-darksiders:

Imagine Strife never knowing how gently he can be treated until a human puts their arms around him in the Maker Tree, just after he heard the news about Rampage. The human just thinks Jones has never been hugged before.

imagine-darksiders:

Imagine Azrael just loving stationary. Like, you take him to an office supply shop and set him loose inside. 

He wants every colour of highlighter. He tries to pick up far too many binders because he needs them to organise his loose scrolls. The clerks are bemused because his wings keep knocking over the pen displays but he’s apologising so profusely, they find it hard to be irritated. 

fanofspooky:

I’ve never seen the full version of this 😂

Anonymous asked: Imsgine if the Horsemen's S/O obtained Abyssal Armor of her own.

imagine-darksiders:

Strife: *whistles* 👀 👀

Fury: Did you also do a favour for Vulgrim and end up getting swindled, so he gave you some armour to soothe your ire?

Death: Breathes a sigh of relief. Now you’ve got an extra layer of protection between you and a demon’s blade.

War: He has to help you strap it up properly because you’ve ‘fastened your boots all wrong.’

Anonymous asked: Imagine Strife calling you Princess every time you and him team up to fight demons and him relishing your embarrassed look.

imagine-darksiders:

He calls you Prince too if that’s your preference. He doesn’t care so long as your face keeps turning that charming shade of pink.

Anonymous asked: Imagine Strife suspiciously offering you a massage, and as those skillful fingers work their magic, he begins whispering sweet things to your ear, calling you by nicknames that redden your face. Combine that with his massage, and end up accidentally letting out a moan before hiding your face in embarrassment.

imagine-darksiders:

As someone who has let out a pleasure moan during a professional massage, this hurts. 

Anonymous asked: What about the horsemen being in love with a human being who is in love with someone else??

darksiders-fanfic-and-drabbles:

This made me a little sad to think about 😣 ~

Strife: It’s killing him. He wants more than anything for them to be happy, but it tears him up inside that it’s not him who’s the object of the human’s affection. For awhile, he tries to distance himself and allow the human to find love, yet he finds being away from them leaves an emptiness in his life. It wouldn’t do to lose the greatest friend he’s ever had…

Death: He tries like mad to convince himself that it wasn’t wise to fall for a human to begin with, but he can’t help feeling a deep sting of disappointment. Part of him wonders why he was daft enough to believe this person would fall for him. While he does employ Dust to check on their well-being from time to time, he distances himself and stays away for months at a time. He’s strong, but it still hurts to see that expression of pure joy on the human’s face when they are looking at another.

War: It’s almost impossible for him to process his own sadness, so it morphs into anger. He’s angry at himself for not being what this person needs, he’s angry at feeling inferior, yet he’s mostly angry at the one who managed to steal the human’s heart for being so charming. For a long while, he denies the existence of this other person and refuses to acknowledge them. That may be the only reason they survive.

Fury: She’s shaken. How could she have fallen for a human to begin with? Worst yet, how could she lose their affection to another? The sensation of loss swelled in her stomach again and she tries to tell herself no human is worth this much pain. She tries, but knows without a doubt this isn’t true because they are.

Anonymous asked: Question about horsemen: when did they realize “holy fuck, I love this girl.” ?

granddaughterogg:

Death did at the same time when he finally realized how much you do care for him. It happened at the Well of Souls, upon quite dramatic circumstances. The spectre of Crowfather have just told the Reaper what his options are and Death decided to take the leap. You went hysterical, pleading for him not to do it, to search for another way, crying and shaking uncontrollably. It’s been aeons since anyone displayed so much raw emotion regarding whether Death lives or dies, and it moved him to the core. He felt tremendous guilt for leaving you all alone…but it had to be done anyway. Before he fell to his final fate, he kneeled next to you and made the most preposterous, desperate promise. Also, he told you that he loves you - it sounded more like an apology than anything else. Those words would keep you afloat while you waited for him in the Makers Realm, nursing this absurd hope. And then one day he came back.

War met you as the human who has accompanied Death and - to the staggering surprise of all his siblings - won his old, impenetrable heart. Not much after the Four decided to built themselves a house and a new life on post-revival Earth. At first, the Red Rider had no idea how to socialize with you; he was always shy with women and not much of a conversationalist away from the battlefield. Your relationship was full of strained courtesy and awkwardness on both sides. Then the other three had to leave for a mission, and left War with you for safety. With the others not around, the Big Guy slowly came out of his shell. Your companionship was unlike anything he’d ever experienced; you were smart, but not standoffish, funny, but you never made fun of him - and kind. The mighty Horseman started to bask in the warmth of your personality.

Then some asshat demons - probably Destroyer’s marauders - attacked your house. War told you to stay inside, as they were more than enough for him to handle. “Don’t worry”, he threw over his shoulder, already rushing into battle. “You’re safe with me.”

“I know”, you laughed. “Never felt safer. Those motherfuckers are in for a surprise.”

That’s when Horseman War suddenly realized that he’s in love. He ran into the fray with vigor increased tenfold.

For Strife it was the total opposite. He met you as his grumpy brother’s girlfriend, which was as good as off-limits to him. Strife decided that he’s gonna tease and annoy the hell out of you every occasion he gets, if only because you were cute when you got angry. At this he succeeded. For some time the five of you lived under one roof, engaging in family shenanigans; at those occasions Strife would always play the role of the troublemaker. You two established some sort of an unobvious bond, oscillating between childlike camaraderie (no one could light up your day like Strife did) and locking horns whenever he went too far.

Later you and War started dating, too and he was 100% aboard this ship - if only that it provided more opportunities for joking. The thing about Strife is that he was the king of Tinder. He went through human women like a chain smoker does through his cigs. Which means he would never call again. As charming and sociable as he was, our gunslinger harboured deep self-resentment, which made him feel like no one’s ever gonna love him anyway. Not the real him. So it’s better to push people away then to be the one who gets the push.

With you it was different. You shared a family of sorts and a roof, so he could not run away from you like from all the others. He learned many different facets of your personality, things one would hardly notice during a blind date. He started to get…attached.

Then one day you were making pancakes and Strife was helping (if by helping we mean that he mysteriously made the pancake dough attach itself to the ceiling. You sighed and told him to stop being such a brat and mix another batch.)

You two chatted about something of little consequence. You stood turned away from him and flipped the pancakes on the pan. Strife sat on the kitchen table, his long legs kicking the air, his eyes pinned to the curve of your neck. As far as he was concerned, it was a lovely neck. So narrow, compared to his. Humans were such dainty, delicate creatures.

That’s when it hit him like a flying rock. He was in love with you. He was madly, stupidly in love with you and there was nothing he could do about it. Firstly - you’ll never love him back. Secondly - Death would never, ever share. With War, sure. But not with him.

“Welp”, the gunslinger thought without losing a word out of the conversation, “I’m screwed.”