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ladybell9095 · 4 years

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I promised myself that i would post something at least once a week, but my classes have taken all my time and attention as well as my sense of time. In return for my lack of activity here is a little something that is related to how i’m going through the motions of online college classes (basically my college life thus far for this semester), but i’ll make it into a Horsemen/Reader. Please enjoy whatever this is I made.

Quick Summary: You are a college student who is dealing with classes being shifted to online only due to the pandemic. Though you are uncomfortable with it, you are fortunate enough to have the four with you to help you through this. Although one of them wasn’t really being all that helpful.

Having to switch from being in a classroom to strictly online classes was a scary and stressful shift for you. It was hard not to ponder over every bad possibility that could happen. Such as, if your laptop could handle this 24/7 attention or the stress of getting your textbooks on time or if there would be audio and visual issues when it came to video calls.

When the first week started you were anything but calm. Especially after being told, by one of your teachers, that you were required to show yourself on camera. You were fine with talking, but when it came to showing yourself on camera you panicked.

After the first week was done and after you get acquainted with your teachers and classmates, you found that it wasn’t as bad as you thought. That is until the homework came along.

Halfway through the second week, you find yourself knee deep in homework. To get ahead of the game and to have a homework free weekend, you tackle a crap load of assignments in one go. Halfway through your assignments you find yourself getting into a steady rhythm, but someone soon disrupts your concentration.

“(Y/N)! Still typing away I see.”, Strife obviously pointed out.

“Yep.” You responded while keeping your eyes glued to the screen.

“How much more of this homework stuff do you have to do?”

“Just two more assignments and then I’ll be done for today.” Strife gave a long-exasperated sigh before he left you to your work.

None of the others bothered you because for the first time they saw how focused you could really get. Seeing you like this was a rare sight to the Horsemen and they all wanted to watch you go to work, all except for Strife. Usually after classes you would waste the rest of the day with junk food and playing video games, mostly with Strife, and would wait to do homework until the next day.

Once again, you were bothered by the gunslinger. He pestered you like an annoying child who couldn’t sit still. Anytime he would ask you if you were finished yet, you would lifelessly respond no. It wasn’t until you were almost finished with your last assignment that Strife would bother you one last time.

“Are you finished now?”

You failed to respond because the only thing that you heard was the gears turning in your head and the clacking of keys on your keyboard. Having been typing for so long your fingers became numb from the constant stroking. As you continued working on your assignment, you find Strife's spiky hair blocking your view of the screen.

“How long does it take for you to do homework?”

You groaned as you pushed his head away. “Strife, I've been sitting here for five hours straight. I’m not sure when I’ll be finished, but when I am, I’ll let you know. So, could you kindly leave me alone.”

War and Fury, who had been in the living room, found the attitude you gave to their brother amusing. Strife on the other hand didn’t appreciate the attitude thrown his way. He wasn’t used to the new change, as you were. When Death entered the room, he saw Strife silently walking to his room and saw you furiously typing out of the corner of his eye.

Finally, after an hour you were done with what you wanted to get done today. You gave a big stretch and slumped in your chair when you finally turned off your laptop. After homework came the house chores, which wasn’t much thanks to Death knocking some off the list. When you finished up, you went to see who was still up and about.

“Finished?”, Death asked while tearing his eyes away from his book.

You hunched over and let your arms dangle. “Yes. I’m all done for today.”

War raised his eyebrow. “There is more?”, he questioned.

“There is always more, but the rest is for another day.” You took a seat on the couch and leaned against Fury.

“You were quite moody today.”, Fury addressed.

You thought about what happened an hour earlier. “I guess so. Where’s Strife?”, you ask while looking around for the him.

Fury laughed. “After you yelled at him, he went to his room. He’s hasn’t come out since.”

“Oh.”, you said worriedly.

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine.”, Fury reassured.

“But it wouldn’t hurt for you to go check on him.”, Death suggested.

Even before Deaths suggestion, you planned to go check up on him, but not until later. With the suggestion fresh in your mind you got up and went to make things right. Knocking before entering, you see Strife on his bed cleaning his firearms and he was wearing his helmet. It wasn’t odd for him to wear his helmet, but he never wore it often after meeting you. Now a days whenever he would wear his helmet in the house, you knew that something was bugging him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”, Strife said plainly.

“I’m finished with my homework.”

“That’s good.”, he responded while still cleaning his gun.

Seeing Strife likes this made you feel awful, you felt even more awful because you’re the one who caused him to be this way. Strife felt the bed shift and soon felt your arms wrapped around him.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. I was just frustrated by all the work.”

“You don’t have to lie. I know how annoying I can be. I get it.”

“You’re not annoying...well maybe a bit annoying.”, you wittily remarked.

Your attempts at making the Horseman laugh proved ineffective. His silence made you feel even more guilty than you already were. You knew that you had to make things right, so you were determined to make up for what you’ve done. With an idea in your mind, you got off the bed and left to your room. When you returned you snatched Mercy out of Strife's hand and placed a controller in it instead.

He looks up to you waving the controller back and forth in your hand. “Ready for me to beat your butt in video games?”

Strife chuckled. “Don’t you go crying to War when you get your ass handed to you.”, he remarked as he lowers himself to your height.

That cocky attitude of his annoyed you as well as made you laugh, but it is one of the things you loved about him. When you began your video game marathon, your competitive spirit came out. There was yelling, laughter, trash talk, and name calling. You were ready to play all night, but sleep got the better of you.

Strife had noticed your head bobbing up and down as well as the controller slipping from your fingers. He goes to turn off the console and TV. Before you know it, you are lifted up and placed on your bed. As Strife was about to leave you to your slumber, he feels you tugging on his scarf.

“Sleep here tonight.”, you softly spoke.

Strife removes his helmet and places it on the nightstand. The bed was small and couldn’t possibly fit the both of you, but somehow Strife made it work. You feel yourself being pulled in close and your head being placed against his arm. With the warmth you felt from him and your exhaustion you instantly fell asleep.

#Darksiders #Death #Fury #War #Strife #my college life in a nutshell #its very frustrating #Four Horsemen/Reader #this is based off my personal experience #i wasn't exaggerating about the fingers going numb from all the typing

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shellalana · 7 years

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Filthy Monster

((writing prompt from @corvidprompts))

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Feeling the rising warmth of his rifle against his fingers was fun. Hearing the dying screams of Varelsi and whoever got in his path, that was fun. Chatting it up in some bar like they were friends? He’d rather take a sharp stick to his good eye. “... is that an order?” he grumbled, the grease-stained rag pausing in its task. “If I say yes, will you go?” He growled a sound of disgust as he finally tossed it aside and removed the gun from his lap. It wasn’t going anywhere, but he hated leaving a job half-finished. “You’re buying,” he quickly added. He was aware of her proclivity for having someone else foot her beer tab, and he wasn’t interested in being stuck with that payment. “Pft. Fine. Least you can’t say I never wined and dined you.” “I hate wine.” “It’s a-... forget it.” As they entered The Happy Lorrian, he almost regretted agreeing to her idea as he saw all heads turn towards him. Whiskey was used to being stared at - not every day you some some big shirtless purple dude strolling around - but he’d never gotten comfortable with it. Having eyes on him meant he was being watched, and he’d had enough of that from his growing vat. But he’d figured a long time ago that if they were going to stare, might as well given them a good reason. So he altered his helmet, strapped some spikes to his shoulder, showed off the metal running up the middle of his spine. He’d burn the image of himself in their minds, give them something they wouldn’t forget if they were going to ogle him. “Hey, Valkyrie!” “Ms. Valeria!” “Reyna! You still owe me on that-” The room erupted with noise, all vying for his boss’ attention. So it wasn’t him they were staring at. He wasn’t sure whether to be comforted or taken aback, as he watched the short woman parade herself through the crowd towards the bar. Huh. “You coming?” “... uh, oh sure.” He had no problems getting to the stool beside her, his size and spiky adornments parting the sea of people around them. No one asked who he was, what he was doing with the Valkyrie, or why he was even here. Even with his appearance, he could lose himself here. Learn what it was like to not have eyes on him all the time. ... huh. Reyna ordered them a few dark ales to start, figuring they’d move to the stronger stuff later on in the evening when they no longer cared about enunciations or making sense. They weren’t the best, but with being the only supplier of alcohol to a slowly-dying system, it was better than none at all. She could see he agreed with the wrinkling of his nose after the first sip. “That bad, huh?” “I’ve had motor oil taste better.”

“I just can’t believe you murdered your own siblings.” “We were never close.” That was more than an understatement. He had no bond with them whatsoever, save for what they’d been programmed with. Shoot guns, do as you were told. No time for family picnics, get-togethers, or Secret Santas. “But-” “Blood family has never meant much to people like me, alright? Drop it.” Two broken people from two different worlds. Hers: seeking out a family lost to the Void, doing everything she can to bring them back; and his: to separate himself from those who’d “made” him, brought him into this world for a life of servitude and death, to be another statistic among many and to be replaced once he expired. How could he care about those who didn’t give a damn? As far as he was concerned, he’d done them a favour. Reyna’s lip protruded before she took a sip of her beer. She just had to choose the one topic he didn’t want to talk about. So much for trying to get him to open up. Now she’d sealed the doors on those chances before they’d even started. He drained the last from his tankard and slammed it down, his gaze focused on the lingering foam sliding back to the bottom until he finally broke the silence. “Must think I’m some kind of filthy monster, right?” Wrong. He shouldn’t be giving one damn what she thought. How much had he drank already? “Why would I? Is that why you make yourself up to look like that?” She gestured to all of him with her glass to her lips. Maybe it wasn’t completely hopeless after all. “S’posed to be scary. Make s**theads s**t their pants ‘n run away. Course, that just makes it more fun to gun ‘em down.” he couldn’t fight the upward twitch at the corner of his mouth. Had he ever smiled outside of being in the field? “You see me running?” “No.” “I look like a s**thead?” He had to think about that one for a long while - and relished in the reddening of her face in the meantime - before he answered in the negative. “Then why would I think that?” Cuz everyone else does were teh first words in his mind, but from watching her and how the other patrons had treated her on their entry, she wasn’t like everyone else. There were thieves, robbers, possibly murderers amongst the people here. People who’d done horrible things, probably worse than killing dozens of their own tank-bred siblings. “You don’t care,” he blurted out before he went in for another drag from his cup, and forgotten he’d already emptied it. He was tempted to ask for another, one more to give him something to focus on other than this conversation. He hated this touchy-feely shit. “Am I surprised you killed ‘em? Yeah. Do I care that the UPR’re assholes for doing this to you. Hell yeah. But I don’t care that you did what you had to to survive. Everyone goes through s**t.” Reyna gazed into her own tankard and slid the rest to him, almost as if she’d been reading his mind. “Even you?” As he drained that too, he peeked over the edge to gauge her reaction. Anyone who spouted that kind of shit had usually underwent something horrible themselves, some event they reconstructed into armour to keep them safe, to give them a reason to keep fighting. He’d hoped catching her off-guard with his question would have revealed some chink in that armour so that he wasn’t the only one feeling exposed. Instead, the Valkyrie just smiled and leaned against the bar. “The next time you wanna pay for drinks, maybe I’ll answer that question. My treat, my rules.” ... that hadn’t exactly been a “no.”

#prose #fiction #bbfanficjam #battlebarn #battleborn #reyna valeria #whiskey foxtrot

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