What about the horsemen giving their s/o a ride for the first time? Thank you 🙏
Apologies that this took so long! Strife and Fury really stumped me 😬
Hesitantly, you looked up at War, lips twisted in an unsure grimace. “I’m not sure about this,” you wince as War adjusts the harness looped over his shoulders, shrugging experimentally. “You will be fine,” he assured you, tail flicking to swat at some flies on his sides. “This just seems rude.” You rub your hands together, wishing you’d remembered to grab your gloves before War had pulled you into the chilly air. “I mean, riding a horse is one thing, but a Horseman?” “If I had qualms about it, I would not have suggested it,” War countered, one hoof tilting forward to rest on the tip as he placed a hand on his hip. “Still,” You’re reaching for excuses, and he knows it, judging by the quirk in his brow as he gives you a hard stare. Tired of your whining, War simply reaches down and grabs your arm. In one smooth motion, he lifts you off the floor and seats you on his back, hand lingering long enough to ensure you didn’t fall as you yelped in shock. “Very funny,” you snapped, gripping his flanks once you regained your sense of balance, and he smirked. “I am,” he rumbled, and you could feel his voice in your stomach. Resisting the urge to laugh at the sensation, you leaned forward, hands scrabbling around his stomach as they sought out the padded grips connected to the harness. Easily, he passed them back, and you pulled some slack through your hands before grabbing hold, shimmying into a proper riding position. The lack of a saddle somewhat helped. “Ready,” you tell him with a gentle tap to his side, and War looks back, blue eyes scanning your form. He nodded, pleased, and began to walk. It had been a long time since you rode a horse, and a centaur - a Horseman, no less - was not a part of your repertoire, but War’s easy gait quickly had you settling in. “Come on!” You grinned, and a mighty huff made his flanks dance before he urged himself into a slow canter, following the winding trail that passed as a driveway, working himself into running condition. Unexpectedly, he veered off the driveway, and you yelp, clinging tighter to him as he erupts in an earth-shaking sprint, hooves kicking up dirt as he tears along a deer trail you hadn’t noticed in the shrubbery. The two of you dodged low hanging branches as War thundered along the path, delving deeper into the forest surrounding your house. A log up ahead had you tensing, but War charged ahead, easily clearing it while you clung on for dear life. The greenery passed by in a blur, and you squeezed your eyes shut momentarily before you realized something. War slowed down. Fighting the disorientation, you looked around you, and was surprised to find yourself in a gully. War’s sides were heaving as he trotted along, edging around and over fallen rocks blocking the path. Silently, he plodded on until the path opened up, and your ears caught the sound of running water. Perking up, you leaned to the side and saw a small stream running through the clearing. Excitement overtook you, and you threw yourself from War’s back with an unusual ease, landing gracefully on your feet before running up to the stream. Bending low, you dipped your hands in the water, then ran them over your face, marveling in the cold. The noise of gravel shifting had you looking sideways, and you saw War a few paces away, still breathing hard but bending to take a drink. Watching the process was unique, to say the least - kinda like watching a giraffe. Once he drank his full, he waded into the slightly deeper center, lower legs submerged in the water as he turned to face you. He flicked water at you with a twitch of his hoof, looking smug as his hands rested on his hips. “You did well,” he smiled, and you grinned back. “Thanks Tiny,” you chirp affectionately, cupping your hands in the stream, and War starts slightly when you throw the cold liquid onto his chest. Eyes determined, he reared and slammed his hooves into the riverbed. Some of the water evaporates on contact, but most of it arced up to splash you. “Oh it’s on!” You growl playfully, and the day devolved into a water fight.
Death’s hand tightened on your upper arm, and his spectral tail flicked as his ears twitched. “Do not look back,” he ordered in a hoarse whisper, beginning to move and pulling you along with him. “We are being followed.” “What?” You ask in shock, almost turning back before Death hissed. “Demons,” he growled, ears forced forward and trembling with the urge to point backwards. “Let us see if they lose interest.” The market was busy - you had no idea where he could have seen a demon, but it wouldn’t be impossible for them to be here. Creatures of all realms came here, among them rare and marvelous individuals that carried even more potent artifacts of their people. Demons just ate that crap up. The two of you navigated through the stalls, seeming to be looking for something, and the whole time Death was unnaturally tense, the spirits released after his every step roiling in an unnaturally thick cloud before they dissipated. Things didn’t seem to work. A shout sounded behind you, and Death seized a hold of you, throwing you on his broad back. Years of practice kept you from falling, and you tightened your grip on his sides as you leaned forward, hooking your arms around Death’s waist. The Horseman took off at a gallop, his shouts - mixed in with the occasional shrill cry of the damned - parting the sea of creatures before them. The demons had a harder time of it, because as soon as Death passed the creatures slammed back together, squabbling and shouting curses at the Horseman for disturbing their day. Turning a corner, Death skidded to a stop, rearing and yelling as a higher demon blocked the path. The instant his hooves touched the ground, Death pivoted, charging into the stalls. The owners squealed, gurgled and yelled as the Horseman leapt over their stands, navigating through their wares almost perfectly. There were a few incidences, and as the end of the market loomed ahead he became desperate. Death overturned a stall’s table as he jumped, and you shouted an apology as the owner began to curse, multiple eyes narrowing in anger. The last of the crowd melted away, and you found yourself shouting at Death over the bothersome clatter of hooves on stone. “Death!” You slapped a hand against his waist as he darted through the alleys, tail raised in alarm. It took tugging on his hair - a low move, you had to admit - to get him to come to a stop, and his sides heaved as he looked around, ears pricked for danger. “We’re okay, Death, calm down,” you murmured as you massaged between his shoulder blades, looking around. It seemed to be a courtyard, sporting a small fountain and water spigot off to the sides; clearly it was a place of respite for the nearby residents. “There is no ‘safe,’” Death coughed, pawing the ground uneasily. “Those demons have caught your scent.” “Then Serpent Hole us back to the house,” you argued, rationality overcoming his panic. “Vulgrim is on the other side of the market,” he grumbled, twisting to shoot you an irritated glance. You gave him a pointed look, then gestured to him. “You’ve got legs don’t you?” Death snorted, turning to look where he was going. Silence filled the space between you two until you started snorting, leaning against his shoulders. Startled, he glanced back, and you gasped for breath, giggling between desperate gulps of air. “I figured,” you wheezed, clutching at your chest, “Our first ride together would be a little more romantic!” Death paused, then flicked your calf with his tail. “Little one,” he sighed in exasperation, but you could hear the amusement in his voice. Eventually, his chuckles joined the fray as he walked back to the market, edging through the alleys.
Fury offered nothing when you asked if you could ride her, other than a brief nod and a gesture to her back. “Just like that?” You asked warily, and she arched an eyebrow. “If you would rather question why…” She trailed off, and you quickly stammer out a negative, hands waving wildly. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to offend,” You blurt out, cheeks ruddy as you look away quickly. “Little one,” she sighed, and her hand landed on your head. “If I were not alright with this I would not have agreed.” “Right,” you murmur, and you shook her hand off. “I’m coming up!” Somewhat awkwardly, you clamber up the fence, and when she shifts closer to the fence you toss yourself on her back, landing with a soft 'oof.’ Grunting as you shimmied yourself upright, you grabbed for her waist, and she chuckled as you pulled yourself to her back, cuddling against her. “I assume you are ready?” “Yup!” She laughed, lowering a hand to her waist and grabbing one of yours, patting it fondly as she began to walk out towards the fields. Fury walked slowly, leisurely compared to some of your horses, and you fell into the hypnotic rhythm easily, swinging with each step. You released the unconsciously tight grip on her ribs, leaning back slightly, and your hands came to rest on the rise of her rump, balancing you as she set to strolling the property. Softly, she began to hum, and the sheep in the field came over, bells clanging with a cacophonous familiarity. The ram, Tate, led the flock up to the fence, walking with his head held high along the fence as Fury went along her merry way, and you stifled a laugh when you recognized his strutting posture. “Show off,” you giggle, and Tate flicked an ear at you as he stepped even higher, practically prancing at this point. The lambs, emboldened by Tate’s high-stepping preening, ran to the front of the flock, playfully charging the fence and running into each other as children typically did. Fury paused when one of them stamped a hoof at her, and she leaned down, peering at the lamb. It lowered its head, ready to play, and Fury indulgently jumped, feigning surprise as the lamb stuck its head between the bars. It bleated, waggling excitedly, and you laugh as Fury took off, the rest of the flock starting with a flurry of shocked baas. Fury ran the length of the fence, playfully bucking, and you held onto her middle as the sheep followed, Tate watching the lambs carefully as they mimicked Fury with childish zeal. The end of the fence loomed ahead, and Fury came to a stop, breathing slightly heavily as she watched the lambs run into each other. You laughed, leaning against her and pressing your head between her shoulder blades. “Looks like you have some friends,” You laugh, shaking with giggles.
“Well?” Strife asked, hands on his hips and tail swishing expectantly. “What?” You distractedly asked, juggling food in one hand and phone in the other as you stepped around your dog who decided that moment was exactly when he needed to lay down in the doorway. “Galileo, come on!” You groan, and an ear perks for all of one second before Galileo stretched, his large paws almost sweeping you off your feet. You stumble, dropping some bags, but Strife caught you by your elbow, one leg tucked under him as he leaned forward. “Thanks,” you smile, then look at Galileo. The big dingus didn’t even look sorry. “Did you even think about my offer?” Strife huffed, releasing you once your feet were on the floor safe and sound. “What offer?” You ask, dropping the remaining groceries on the countertop and picking up the ones that had fallen, adding them to the counter. “To go for a ride!” You felt more than heard his indignant stomp, and you pressed your fingers together, massaging the bridge of your nose. “I’d love to Strife, but I’ve got a project to do, and dinner needs making,” you sigh exasperatedly, gesturing to the food you’d just gotten to demonstrate your point. He eyed it like it personally affronted him, then stepped neatly over Galileo, tail flicking. “Fine,” he grumbled, draping his torso over your body, and you laughed as you pushed at him,complaining about his weight. “I’ll have you know I am not fat!” “No,” you tease, “You’re just a little… hay-bellied!” He gasped in mock outrage, lightly punching your shoulder, and you laughed, shooing him away from the counter. He stood off to the side as you began unpacking the food, neatly tying the plastic bags and dropping them into a bucket to recycle or use later. Before any dinner preparation could be done, you felt something hook around your waist, and you released a startled yell as you were lifted from the floor. “Strife!” You shrieked as he charged the exit, and he merely laughed as he blazed through the open door, Galileo looking vaguely annoyed as he picked himself off the floor, trotting behind you two to sit on the porch. “Yes darling?” He thrummed as he held you bridal style, galloping along the driveway until he reached a low point, and he pivoted, clearing the fence with ease. “Strife!” You yell again, incensed and confused as he raced across the field, following the familiar paths into the forest where several of your heifers liked to rest in the daytime. “Take me back this instant!” “Hmm… no,” he rasped, and he abruptly came to a halt, rattling your brain as he quickly threw you onto his back. Once you were somewhat settled, he took off again, racing over the property like a massive warhorse, and your teeth rattled as you struggled to find a grip, slipping along his back. The scenery passed in a blur, and you get vaguely ill before Strife skidded to a stop, throwing you over his shoulder. You yelp as your back makes contact with the ground, and you slid a foot before coming to a stop. “What the hell?” You snap at him from the ground, woozy and feeling decidedly ill as he circled around you restlessly. “What?” He asked, and for a second there he sounded shocked. “I told you I wanted to go for a ride.” “And practically kidnapping me is the way to go?” You snarl, pushing yourself up and moaning as your vision swam. Slowly you bent forward, head between your knees, and you rocked slightly, heels pressed into the earth until the world stopped spinning. “Screw this,” you grumble as Strife ceased his anxious pacing, backing up and going unnaturally still, getting to your feet. “I’m going back to the house.” Apparently stumbling around in the dark isn’t a good thing to do. You hiss, clutching at your ankle, and the tender sensation shooting along your leg quickly has you releasing it. “Son of a…” You snarl, immediately pushing yourself up and wincing as you tried hobbling forward. Behind you, Strife’s heavy breathing grew louder, and you scowled into the dark as you shuffled your way from tree to tree, Steife slowly passing you. “You’re a jerk.” Strife’d ear flicked back, but he refused to say a word. “I could’ve had dinner by now. I could’ve been done with my project, I could’ve -.” You ranted against the wall that was Strife, airing out your grievances with little care as he turned and lifted you onto his back with a dark look. His breaking point was five minutes later when he stopped with a stamp of a hoof, and he twisted around to give you a glare. “Are you quite done?” He snapped, and you side eyed him back, arms folded over your chest. “- and I wouldn’t be out here in the cold with a twisted ankle,” you finish decisively, kicking his ribs with your non-injured foot. He growled warningly, and before you knew it he bucked you off, snatching you from the air to dangle you in front of him. “Yes I screwed up, alright?” He snarled, shaking you slightly. “But that’s what I do! 'Strife the screwup, Strife the incompetent, Strife this, Strife that!’” He snarled, inhaling deeply as he slowly set you down. “I just thought that maybe, one time, I could be just Strife.” “Dingus,” you tisked as he set you down, swatting his shoulder. “I would’ve said 'yes’ eventually. Now take me back to the house, I need to ice this.” “Yes, taskmaster,” he huffed, but he gently scooped you up, holding you to his chest as he picked his way back through the trees towards the house.
