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#^arms+legs of favor set desc in 3
v-iv-rusty · 1 year
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as much as I never post about it I kind of genuinely am fascinated by the evil cheese grater man
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darksiders-drabbles · 2 years
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Heavily inspired by YAHM?! but could you do something with Reader being Vulgrim's apprentice of sorts and how the horsemen would tolerate it/react? If not that's ok too, I just love your fics <3<3
Vulgrim's Apprentice
Hi Nonnie! Thanks for your patience with this one, I got busy.
This is inspired by that one post where Reader sneaks out and has to explain themselves to the Horsemen. I can't find the original though :/
Hope you enjoy!
Warnings: N/A, Swearing
Reader stepped into their home; exhausted. They had a long day filled with almost nothing but errands. They had taken to spending more time with Vulgrim for use of the serpent holes to get around. It was certainly easier than trying to roam the more dangerous parts of the city. Though of course, being the conniving bottom-feeder that he was, did not do this for free. The stubborn jerk practically doubled Reader’s workload for the day. ‘At least it’s over now.’ They were glad to be in the peace and quiet of their home at last.
Until a lamp flicked on in their living room, revealing Strife sitting in the recliner. Internally, Reader sighed. ‘‘How do I get out of this with the least amount of conflict?’ They set their stuff down by the door.
“And where have you been this evening?” He inquired, his tone accusatory.
“I was out running errands. Today was really busy and took longer than I had planned.”
Strife crossed his legs, steepling his fingers together. “Yeah? What errands?”
A headache started to form as Reader’s patience began to wear thin. “Mostly stuff for the house.”
Strife hummed, squinting his eyes. “Musta been a lot of stuff you needed to take care of.”
“You stink of Vulgrim.” Fury chimed, impatient at Strife’s stalling. She strolled into the light with her arms crossed.
“I just needed to-”
“Did we not warn you away from that vermin?” War added, surprisingly well-hidden in the lingering darkness.
“There was something on the other side of town-”
“Any one of us could have gone with you.” Death interrupted from beside Reader. They jumped and turned to face him. His brow was raised in question.
“If you would just let me-”
“That vile-” Fury sneered.
“GUYS!” Reader shouted. Fury huffed, but settled down to listen. “You were all busy and I needed to get to the other side of town.” They pointed an accusatory finger at Death. “You were the one that told me it was safe enough go to that side of town on my own. “
“I did not say that.” His gaze sharpened.
The ensuing argument was one that Reader tuned out. It was not an unknown fact that the Horsemen were not fond of Vulgrim. They had almost nothing kind to say about the demon. There was very little trust offered his way by any of the Riders. Their long history was certainly bitter.
‘But really, I’m not a child!’
Reader was one of the few humans that could get away with using the Serpent Holes, and for good reason. Because while Vulgrim was often a backstabbing leech, he was also very lonely. Reader wouldn’t go as far as to say that Vulgrim was a friend, but it was something like that. He would ask for small favors in exchange for transport, Reader would provide, Vulgrim would get chatty with his new human compatriot. That was about it.
Honestly, the favors he asked were hardly a burden. In between tasks he would impart his “wisdom” on them. They took much of what he said with a grain of salt, but watching how he bargained with his customers did help with trading elsewhere. It was also nice to learn a bit of potion-making when his stocks were low. Or if he needed protection from an upset customer, he would just float behind Reader; well known as the Horsemen’s companion. It felt more like an apprenticeship than anything.
As the streets became safer, the Horsemen stopped escorting Reader through the city as much. But if they needed to travel further than the first few miles from home, the Horsemen would hover. The gesture was appreciated for the most part, like when they visited Vulgrim for supplies and a pissed off demon descended on them. The merchant not-so-kindly shoved Reader between him and his former customer. War interfered that time, effortlessly tossing the threat aside.
But when Reader simply wanted to say hello or use the serpent holes? Death shuffled the two of them across the street away from the merchant like a mother herding her kid away from a stranger. Fury was either confrontational or she acted like she didn’t hear Reader asking her to slow down. War and Strife both made many threats to the demon regarding the well-being of their human friend. It was exhausting.
“Was he not bargaining for your soul just last week?” War asked, worried and frustrated.
“That was a joke!” Reader replied defensively. ‘Probably’
“Even so, Vulgrim thrives on half-truths and deceit.” Death raised his voice.
“I think he finds more value in my favors than my soul!” They shot back.
Strife made a retching sound from his place on the recliner.
“You’re offering him favors?!” Fury shouted, alarmed and disgusted.
“If he has laid so much as a claw on you-” War growled.
Death could be heard grinding his teeth together. “What?”
Realization dawned as Reader picked up on the accidental euphemism. “No! Holy shit, no! I run errands for him so I can use the Serpent Holes. He’s teaching me potion-making!” They went back to their bag that they set down, pulling out various ingredients in jars and potions.
Silence.
“You guys are gross.” Reader chucked, returning their supplies to their bag. Death sighed in reply, shoulders slumped.
“I…” War started, hesitantly. “I was under the impression he was-”
“I’m well aware.” They grimaced, cringing at the implication.
Strife marched his way over to their side and smothered them in a hug. “Oh thank fuck.”
“I would have lost all respect for you if-” Fury started.
“Alright! I get it!” Reader barked, irritated.
“Sorry, sunshine.” Strife mumbled.
They huffed. “I forgive you. But please, you really don’t need to hover over me all of the time.”
Death would beg to differ, but knew another argument would help no one.
“If you need to travel to the other side of the city,” War rested a hand on their head. “Let one of us know, at the least.”
“Strife was practically weeping rivers in his worry.” Fury teased. But Reader knew all of them were worried.
“Fine, I’ll let you guys know. But seriously, chill out.” They pried themselves from Strife’s embrace, directing a look to all of them.
There were various mumbles of agreement. ‘At least they heard me out this time.’
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