I promised y'all some human! horsemen.
This is unabashedly inspired by this gem: : sybariticfanfiction. tumblr post/133690889915/ clotpolesonly-scoreadirecthit (without the spaces of course, ffnet is such a pain)
How many chapters will this have? ? I don't know! It's one AM though so you know I'm hella excited and already itching to write more. Maybe even with the other Horsemen! Or Uriel! ! I love Uriel.
This one is for Strife though. Dearest trash boyfriend.
"Seriously!?" You growl, giving the vending machine another kick. It probably hurts you more than the machine, but you feel a little better. Inside are two (two) bags of sun-chips, just barely caught between the door and the last shelf. After the first was stuck you figured you could just knock it down with another bag, only for it to land oh so gently on top of the first.
One of your friends, Juliet snorts in obvious amusement, patting your shoulder comfortingly. The rest of your study group have since left, now claiming a table across the lobby and already starting on the latest homework. "Come on, hon. Just give it up."
"I just!" Your hands ball into fists. "What kind of shitty luck is this? This is just ridiculous!"
"Yeah, yeah. Come on. We're here to study anyway." She responds breezily, pulling you away from the offending machine.
You follow her begrudgingly, muttering curses under your breath. Your friends wave as you settle down, although you do notice one handing your roommate and friend a crumpled dollar bill when they see you're chipless. "You bet on me?" You ask dryly, hardly surprised. Those two are always betting on something or another.
The loser shrugs his shoulders, "I figured you'd be stubborn enough to get 'em."
"And I saw that look the secretary had. Apparently that one is famous for stealing chips." Max chirps. You make a mental note to demand she pay for dinner tonight.
You just roll your eyes and yank the textbook out of your bag. You find that studying in groups, while distracting and occasionally nerve-wracking, does actually help you stay focused longer. Trying to study alone usually ends with you on your phone.
It isn't more than fifteen minutes however, that another class lets out and someone tries to grab a snack out of the same vending machine.
You hear them before you see them, one yelling excitedly about your chips. "Check this out! I don't even have to pay!" He says, much to the annoyance of his companions.
You glance up with narrowed eyes (although, in hindsight you will admit your anger was unjust), wondering who on earth would...
Oh.
Strife.
Of course, it's Strife. You really should've known by his voice.
He's one of those weird kids. One of The Four. They're all sort of infamous for starting fights, even amongst themselves (and for their attractiveness, but that's just a bonus). Apparently they're from some religious commune, although they broke off from the main group for whatever reason. You wonder if everyone in their family has weird-ass names. Death, Fury, Strife, and War.
Strife especially is known for being a fighter and mouthing off to teachers. Fury is calmer (ironically), but she's got this... Don't fuck with me aura around her. You share classes with them both, because you're in the same year. You see War around campus occasionally (he's a first year), but you've never spoke.
And you're really not sure what to think of Death. You only saw him once, in your first year, and you're pretty sure he's the most hardcore person on earth. Here say claims he adores his youngest brother though.
"Hey, hey! How much you wanna bet he can get 'em out no problem?" Max whispers, as if he can hear her from across the lounge.
"Ten bucks says he brags about for a week too."
"You both suck." You pout irritably, watching as he tries his damnedest to get your chips out of the machine. When the secretary that had tried helping you approaches though, you turn you gaze away with embarrassment.
"She's pointing." Juliet hisses lowly. You appreciate her attempt at subtly, at the very least. "He's smirking."
"Hey!"
Of course, he has to yell across the fricken lobby.
You glance at Strife sheepishly, knowing you now have onlookers.
"I gotchu, girl!" He declares, grinning wickedly. His accent is even more apparent than usual, and you still have no idea what to call it.
"Do I want him to get me?" You ask quietly.
There's a varied response from your friends, some whole heartedly agreeing, yes, you want him to get you, and others bringing up his fighting habit and 'flirtatious' nature. You're not quite sure if that's accurate. It's probably just Strife being himself, rather than actively trying to get into everyone's pants.
Although you don't know what kind of screwed up rules they had to deal with back at the commune. Maybe celibacy was mandatory and he's making up for lost time. Who knows, really. You've only talked to him a few times, and those were usually because of a mandatory group project.
You watch on curiously as Strife gets to work on trying to get you your chips, although after the first few minutes and not-so-muttered curses, you turn back to your schoolwork.
"His friends want to take off." Juliet informs you, nudging your ribs.
"And?" You hum.
She makes a noise in her throat, apparently annoyed. "Come on, you got one of The Four trying to be your knight in shining armor."
You give her a sardonic smile, "I'm swooning already."
Juliet huffs and you once again try to focus on your schoolwork. It's easier said than done though, as people are now buzzing about Strife trying to rescue your chips. It's really not that big a deal.
Strife, being who he is, makes it a big deal though. You know the instant he manages to swipe the chips, what feels like the entire lobby cheering loudly. "He got it!" Juliet squeals in your ear, gripping you shoulder excitedly.
"Yeah, I-" You say, only to be interrupted. Your hands fly up to catch the bag hurtling towards your chest, and while you're positive you made some kind of horrible expression out of shock and anger, Strife is still smiling when you look up at him. "What the-? Thanks?" You stutter.
"Sure." He doesn't even explain or sarcastically say 'you're welcome' like you would've, just turns on his heel and dashes out.
You do, however, get to here him yell to his waiting friends, "I DID IT."
Oh, gosh, that's cute.
It takes you nearly a week to get up the nerve to approach him, and even then you don't plan on talking. You grab a bag of chips (from a different, more reliable machine) and scribble your phone number onto a sticky note which you then shove inside. Opening the bag is a little suspect, you know, but even sharpie won't show up on the plastic and stapling it would be weird.
You also don't want to risk him finding your little note when you're still in the area. Just to avoid awkwardness.
So opening the bag is your best option, really.
He's chatting with his sister when you arrive, a scowl in place as he animatedly goes on about what you assume is another argument. You haven't heard of any fights today though, so it must've been a verbal altercation.
It's Fury who notices your approach first, but rather than alerting her brother she simply smiles and pulls out her phone. You wonder if he told her about the chip thing. Probably.
"Hey." You greet.
Strife falls silent, blinking once in surprise before looking over at you. "Hey. Were those chips worth it?" His lips curl into a grin. It's actually quite the challenge to be nervous around him, you realize quickly. While Fury has the prickly exterior, Strife seems... Softer.
Or maybe you've just developed a horrible crush on him over the past week. That could also be a factor, especially considering he can pick a fight with anything that moves.
"Uh." You look anywhere but Strife, shifting your weight. "Actually that's what I wanted to talk about. I sorta owe you so..." You shove the chip bag at him, still not looking him in the eye.
He snorts, "It's missing a few."
"Delivery fee." You shrug.
You almost make to leave it at that, but Strife's voice stops you. "You're in a few of my classes, aren't you? What'd we have last semester? Advanced chemistry?" He raises his eyebrows.
It takes you a second, and your eyes go wide. "God dammit." You hand flies up to your mouth, as if to stop the traitorous laughter. Strife is grinning proudly when you look at him.
How could he have known you have a weakness for shitty pick up lines? How? You react the only way you know how, with a biting comeback, "If only we had geography, maybe then you'd be able to find yourself a decent pick up line."
Strife freezes, obviously taken off guard.
"Oh." Fury says, the sound of her typing halting.
You don't dare break the staring contest with Strife, waiting for his reply.
He leans closer, his eyes narrowing and the bag of chips crumpling in his hand. You do notice that he's still smiling, however. "You trying to start something, short stuff?"
"Hell yeah." You grin.
He raises an eyebrow. "You think you can take me?"
Something about this whole situation, about Strife, makes you fearless. You could get used to this. "Out, sure. My Thursday's are free, and there's this really yummy Mexican place," You shrug.
He barks a laugh. "What about Friday's?"
You shake your head, "Mm-m. Friday's are me days."
"We will see about that." He replies sharply, as if he's challenging you or something. You can't help but think you might not mind too much if it's Strife interrupting your relaxation time.
"It's a date!" You nod determinedly, giving him one last smile before turning on your heel. You probably don't look half as cool as he did last week, but you're nonetheless proud of yourself.
"You gonna give me your number or...?" Strife calls after you, laughing.
You roll your eyes. "You figure it out, I'm sure."
Max is looking a little too smug when you get back to your dorm, and when she passes you a ten dollar bill you realize news has already spread. And that she bet on you again.
"I'm so proud of you," She says, wiping crocodile tears from her cheeks. "This is more romantic than The Notebook."
"He hasn't even texted me back yet, oh my god." You crash onto the couch with a sigh, unable to keep the smile off your face despite your best efforts. Max's laughter makes it clear you're not fooling anyone.
It takes about an hour (throughout which you most certainly do not check every three seconds) for your phone to light up after that, three messages in quick succession.
Surprisingly, only one of them is from Strife, who just sends, 'who would've thought u planned this.'
Literally my entire friend group. You find it interesting that he uses apostrophes and shorthand though. Like he can't decide if he wants to be proper or not.
You click on the other two messages, both from an unfamiliar numbers. 'I've never seen anyone sass Strife and get away unscathed, you know. I'm impressed.' Fury then, you realize.
The final one is very short, and you have no idea what to make of it. 'Good luck.'