#war x reader

Another sigh from you snapped War out of his no doubt spiraling thoughts and his pacing slowed to look at you. There was no counting the number of times he’d given you a once over since his little fit kicked off. He was looking for any injuries or abnormalities, anything to actually justify the level of irritation he was feeling. He couldn’t find any. That just made him look harder. Which only served to further irritate you. This was all Strife’s fault in War’s mind, even if that didn’t entirely make logical sense. It wasn’t that he hated his second-eldest brother, far from it though he loathed to admit that. Strife was just… aggravating and irresponsible and reckless and nosy and and and-

You finally groaned, sitting up properly to fix War with a glare that would’ve cowed any human. Unfortunately you were not dealing with a human, you were dealing with the youngest, most emotionally inept Nephilim available. “Are we actually going to talk? Strife and I hang out without you once and you fly off the handle and drag me back home? What the hell, War?” When yet more silence was the only answer you got you flung up your hands in defeat, rolled your eyes, and made to walk out of the room.

It wasn’t just that Strife had absconded with you, off to somewhere dangerous to indulge your endless curiosity, no of course not. There was vital context to this situation only War was privy to at the moment. A conversation he’d had with his brother not long ago.

Strife had noticed how distracted War had gotten, his usual taciturn scowling having a more contemplative air to it. That coupled with his more frequent disappearances to Earth? It wasn’t a difficult puzzle to put together that the little human who’d accompanied his baby brother throughout his quest was now what was tormenting his every waking moment. How cute. He had met you a handful of times, much to War’s dismay, and his general fondness for humanity very much extended to you which just made matters worse. It was no secret Strife enjoyed messing with his siblings, especially War, but somehow his younger brother never managed to actually see it coming. Maybe one too many blows to the head over the millennia.

War hadn’t been paying attention to whatever his brother had been prattling on about but the mere mention of you from Strife’s lips had raised his hackles, pulling his focus to the older Nephilim’s smug face. “Y’know she likes you just as much as you like her right? Though I don’t know if she spends all day thinking about it like you do.” Strife guffawing at his little brother’s affronted glare certainly did not help the situation. “I am not some smitten youngling constantly preoccupied with such things,” War growled, “I’ve no time for frivolities with a human so put such ludicrous accusations from your mind, brother.” The scoff that answered him had further soured the Red Rider’s mood, because almost nothing grated on War’s nerves more than Strife being right about something. It was an infrequent occurrence in his opinion, and all the more infuriating because of it.

Strife had idly thumbed Redemption’s cylinder, spinning it to occupy his hands while he thought was a habit of his. Strife thinking was never a good sign in War’s mind. The clicking of the cylinder stopped and Strife stood, “Well if by some miracle the mighty horseman War was feeling some kind of way about a hypothetical human who shall remain nameless,” he’d paused hearing War’s breath halt. “My positively sage-like brotherly wisdom would be to make those feelings known and fast,” he had nudged him as he walked past flashing War a fanged smirk, “You never know who might try to snatch a cutie like that up first.”

War’s hand had twitched toward Chaoseater at the very implication before he could collect himself, and Strife had waltzed away like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on his brother’s psyche. His words had been bouncing around War’s skull for weeks. Did he actually mean it or was this just another jab meant only to annoy him? War couldn’t tell, he could never tell with Strife. Even without his mask he was near impossible to read. So when he heard Strife had snuck off with you somewhere, someplace dangerous… alone. Well War was not famous for his social grace and even temperament.

So now here he stood, watching you walk past him, stormy expression on your usually smiling face. Because of him. Because of his petty cowardice. It stung something fierce to even admit that in his own mind, that he had been running from something. Fear was an impulse War did not accept in his life, he was above it, not ruled by such a dishonorable emotion… But what else was he to feel when faced with the unknown? The warmth in his chest when you laughed? The twist in his stomach when the last rays of a sunset caught your eyes? The bone-deep ache he felt when he was away from you too long? His life had been simple once, before you stumbled into it covered in ash and blood and seemingly burning from the inside out with grim determination.

He was beginning to think that “simpler” life was far less worth living. That scared him. It pushed him so far outside the neat boundaries he’d been given to exist in for countless millennia. He had tried, creator help him he’d tried, to compartmentalize it. Just as soon as he would think he had a handle on his feelings a crack would appear in the facade and he would race to paper over it. They just kept getting bigger though, and more and more appeared. The Red Rider was crumbling and he had no idea how to cope so he simply did what he knew and buried himself in stoic anger. Tried to step back into the boundaries as if those weren’t falling apart too.

You’d noticed him being testy recently, something was clearly bothering him but like usual he’d brush off any concern calling it misplaced or worse, coddling. It was driving a wedge into a relationship you cherished, one that was irreplaceable, one you’d secretly hoped would grow now that the Apocalypse was over. It pissed you off. War was being impossible to deal with. Stewing in his own thoughts like a moody teenager and lashing out randomly. Hell, he’d pointed Chaoseater at a delivery driver who had “an unsavory air about them”. Overprotective was an understatement but given who he was and his unofficial status as your guardian of sorts, it wasn’t too weird at the time. Then he put wards around your house. Then he ignored you for days. Then he came back like nothing happened. Then he’d glared holes in every person within a 15 foot radius of you. Then back to the silent treatment. It was a nightmare of mixed signals, so when Strife had popped up randomly offering some casual adventure, it had been an easy ‘yes’. Time away from home to distract your aching heart and troubled mind was exactly what you needed. An opportunity to not think about War for five minutes.

Except you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even Strife’s magnificently awful jokes couldn’t pull you all the way out of your head. It felt like what you two had built was slipping through your fingers day after day. War was around more but he didn’t feel like he was there. Time that once would’ve brought you joy just felt tense. War wasn’t exactly ever an easygoing guy but when you two were alone it used to feel like he’d… relax a bit. He wasn’t like that now and you didn’t know why, he wouldn’t tell you, so the worry and pain just built and built until today. Until you’d tried in vain to forget the aching in your chest, until you ended up trying to stomp past him with burning eyes and a clouded mind.

Until he grabbed your wrist and you were forced to stop, knowing there really wasn’t much you could do until he decided to let go. “Wait.” He said. Not a request, not an apology, not good enough. You twisted in his grip, glaring up into his cold, glowing, eyes, and finally decided to let loose. “WAIT FOR WHAT? Wait forever for answers and apologies I’m never going to get? Wait ‘til you, the literally millennia old horseman,” your free hand jabbed at his chest for emphasis, “finally grow the fuck up and speak your mind? Wait for my hair to turn grey as life passes me by? Sit here just waiting and stewing and wondering what the hell I did wrong for you to act like this?” The tears finally spilled forth and you couldn’t even muster the energy to care to swipe them away. So instead you kept going, voice quivering between rage and grief, “you want me to wait, War? Then give me a reason!”

He was stunned silent, his eyes wide as he stared down at your seething form. ‘What you did wrong?’ You hadn’t done anything wrong, he just… He hadn’t known what to do. Playing over the last few weeks in his mind he felt shame crawl up his back at the images of your smile becoming more and more strained. Your time together becoming so irregular and fraught. He’d been worse than neglectful, every time he came back you would brighten at first before his erratic behavior dimmed you again. What in all the realms had he done?

When he yet again remained silent he saw the fire in you dim once more, your shoulder’s slumped and he felt the wall in him crack further. “War just… you can’t keep acting like this, I can’t handle it. The rapid swings, you’re here, you’re not, you don’t seem to care, you care WAY too much. You dragged me back here like I was a wayward fucking child, do you know how demeaning that is? That you apparently think you can make those decisions for me?” You paused to catch your breath, shaking your head in disbelief as your face turned solemn. “Either this,” you gestured vaguely at him, “stops or we stop, and I mean it, War. This is not how friendships work and I am done dealing with it on just the slimmest hope you’ll decide one day I’m worth you being honest with me.” The implication that you didn’t have forever like War did wasn’t lost on him. The mere reminder of that fact felt like a lead weight in his stomach.

The room fell into a deafening silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle from you and some random noises outside. To War though, the entirety of creation had narrowed to just this room, just him and you. The End War could’ve started again outside and he would not have noticed. He had sworn to protect you, a solemn oath he said he would carry with him forevermore, and he’d broken it. It wasn’t some demon or rogue angel, no he had hurt you. Far more than he could ever truly understand. Humans were fragile physically but mentally? Emotionally? Your people could withstand greater pain than any other race thought possible for a species so young. Yet he had managed it. Realization came like a knife to the chest that of course he managed to, you let him so close to your heart. You welcomed him into the most vulnerable parts of your soul and in return he’d shut you out of his and tried to bury you. The very person he… War had to fix this.

His grip on your wrist loosened, and his eyes dropped to see the red marks he’d left on your skin. “I’ve hurt you.” It wasn’t a question, but there was something odd to his expression you couldn’t place. At least he was actually talking now. You finally wiped at the tears to clear your vision and muttered out quietly, “Yeah, us humans tend to bruise a bit easier than Nephilim.” You eyed the damage yourself, imprints from War’s gauntlet that would start to bloom purple soon enough. Even when he tried to be gentle there really was no denying exactly who and what he was. A Nephilim, a horseman of the apocalypse, somebody very capable of hurting you even by accident.

War shook his head, stony expression cracking more, “Not this- I mean- yes this,” his thumb brushed remorsefully against your marred skin, “but I meant in the sense that my behavior recently has harmed you… emotionally.” Oh. Well he wasn’t wrong. His eyes remained locked on the mark he’d left on you as he collected his thoughts and you watched the minute chips in his metaphorical armor grow. It was honestly a little scary, War was smart but he usually didn’t think this hard about what came out of his mouth. ‘Charmingly blunt’ you’d once charitably called it when you crossed paths with Azrael. The angel had some… concerns about the company you kept but you were quick to assuage his fears back then, confidently asserting that War would never hurt you. That memory coming back into his mind at this particular moment seemed a cruel joke to the horseman himself.

He was thinking very carefully now about what he would say and how. He owed you that and so much more. When his eyes raised to meet yours again there was something different in them, something raw that usually hid deep inside him. Seems his older brothers weren’t the only ones fond of masks. “There is no adequate way for me to atone for breaking my oath. I swore nothing would harm you so long as I lived… and yet I am the one who hurt you.” His breath stuttered for a moment, like admitting it stung as fiercely as a wound. In his mind War was still trying desperately to hold onto himself but as he looked at you, the tentative warmth he so adored blooming in your teary eyes again… it was worth so much more than his status quo. Worth more than he could ever explain or understand.

It was like a weight slid off his shoulders when his gaze softened, eyes brimming with every emotion he’d tried so hard to contain. Guilt, sorrow, hope, love. Your heart fluttered like a bird yearning to take flight, finally soon to be free from its cage. “There is no excuse for my actions, so instead I would simply ask you allow me to make my oath anew. You have given me something infinitely precious.” A ghost of a smile pulled at his lips, “you have given me compassion, friendship, nearly endless grace and patience. Things I was not worthy of receiving, yet you gave them freely all the same.” War’s eyebrows raised when he felt your smaller fingers curl around his, searching for the seams in his armor to get closer to him even through hardened steel. By the creator was there no armor of his you couldn’t find your way through?

His eyes searched your face for any sign of rejection, any remaining shred of pain or anger, but he found none. There were still tear marks on your face, redness in your eyes, and for that he would atone as well in time, but for now he continued. “I have been a coward, returned your kindness with cruelty however unintentional and hurt you so deeply it brought you to tears.” For the first time in a long time he wished Death hadn’t cut off his arm, he itched to wipe the remaining tears from your face but his artificial limb was not exactly made with such purposes in mind. Even beyond that, he refused to relinquish the feeling of your fingers against his other hand.

Your voice finally couldn’t be held back, bubbling up as War’s openness soothed the rage and hurt you’d been feeling. “Apology accepted, War.” A wry smile quirked your lips as you looked up at him, “I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you say at once.” The Red Rider huffed a bit at your jab but he shook his head, “I am not simply apologizing. Just an apology would not be enough, I am also trying to… explain my actions.” He felt your hand give his an encouraging nudge as you spoke, “floor’s yours, War.” He was fairly certain the floor belonged to you, it was your house, but this was probably another confusing human turn of phrase.

A deep breath and a further steeled resolve later he started again. “For a long time now I have noticed something changing. Something in myself. I was suddenly… wanting things I’d never before considered.” Your eyes widened and he tried not to take that reaction as fear. “I am deeply unfamiliar with such things, I am a horseman, I’m not supposed to…” His eyes darted away from yours for a second as he swallowed down the word he knew he meant but for the moment couldn’t say. “You changed something in me and it kept changing, kept deepening and growing. I had not even the barest inkling how to respond to this feeling and so I-“ once again the words seemed to catch in his throat.

You took a step closer to him, the hand not adamantly holding onto his raising tentatively as you spoke. “So you ran?” It looked like it physically hurt him to nod in response, but the hurt eased when your hand touched his chest. War didn’t even bother to hope that you couldn’t feel his heart hammering under your fingers, he’d been hearing it in his own ears like Ruin’s monstrous hoof beats almost this entire time. “But you didn’t stay gone.” His expression was unreadable as he sighed, “I couldn’t. When I would leave all I could think about was wanting to come back, but every time I saw you the feeling would well up again and the cycle would repeat.” The feeling of your hand in his, your other thumb drawing absentminded circles above his heart, was all very distracting but he still had more to say. “When I was around you suddenly everything looked like a threat. I wasn’t thinking clearly, simply looking for any distraction from my own mind and heart, and so I found it in the familiarity of cold anger. Yet even that clearly couldn’t last. It was like the very foundations of how I viewed the world and myself were crumbling under me so when I heard Strife had spirited you off somewhere I… panicked.”

The frustration scrunching up his face was almost cute but you kept that comment to yourself, stowing it away to poke at him later. War’s voice dropped to an agitated growl as he recalled what exactly his brother had threatened so casually, “he’d made a comment about you not too long ago, something about making my feelings known and quickly because I could never know who might do so before I could finally muster the courage.” The thought of War being afraid of his brother, for lack of a better word, stealing you from him was absurd enough to almost pull a dumbfounded laugh from you. But considering the situation a bit further some puzzle pieces started to fit together. The White Rider wasn’t nearly as brainless as his siblings liked to think, you’d have to prod him a bit to see if your sneaking suspicion was right the next time you saw him. In the meantime, you’d get a little payback on his baby brother. “Sooo,” your fingers tapped on his chest and the teasing lilt in your tone warned him of what was coming next. “Making your feelings known, huh? And what feelings might those be, exactly? Just out of curiosity.” Your head tilted and a small smirk pushed mirth up into your eyes.

After several weeks of emotional pandemonium, the tormented groan that came from your ridiculous horseman was sweeter than honey to hear. “Have I not made it obvious? Are you truly going to make me say it?” War was all but begging. Your hand drifted up to grab his cowl and he let you drag him down closer to your height, eyes boring into his with a sudden seriousness, “Oh I think I’ve more than earned you saying it, War.” You stared him down, gaze and grip on him unwavering in equal measure. War had no reason not to say it, realistically, but the very thought of the words leaving his lips, making it all real, made him hesitate. Heat crept up to his cheeks and a light dusting of pink made itself very known on his pale skin as he floundered. You were right. He owed you this, full and complete honesty, he couldn’t hide behind allusions and implicit meaning trying to save his pride. What once was would never be again, there was no returning to the time before he’d realized exactly what he felt for you. He didn’t want to return to that time. Internally he looked at the last stubborn barrier between his heart and your hand, and tore it down brick by brick.

The final wall turned to dust as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours and a curtain of his silvery hair fell from his shoulder to brush against your cheek. He was so close now, close enough to- He whispered against your lips, “I love you.” It was so uncharacteristically quiet, but it was a message meant only for your ears. Nobody else needed to hear it, nobody else mattered to him in this moment. Just you. Here in this little house on a slowly rebuilding Earth, staring down into the eyes of the woman he loved, War let himself be soft. The normal tension leaving his body and a small, tentative smile, touching his lips as he was content to just leave it at that, finally having truly bared his soul.

You had other plans though, now that you knew exactly where you stood with him. Now that you knew you weren’t the only one drowning in this feeling. “God you made that so fucking difficult.” Before he could respond you pushed up onto your toes, closing the scant distance and pressing your lips to his. War froze for a second, unsure, but your hand slid from his cowl up to trace over his jaw and up to caress his face. The sensation stole the air from his lungs but just as quickly he recovered and reciprocated the kiss, reveling in this new feeling. It was like a giddy warmth was blooming in his chest. Little did he know your heart was echoing his, pulse racing as if to say finally finally finally. Your lips moved together shyly, clearly unpracticed but now there was the promise of a future to learn together, so much time to explore and experiment. For now though this was all that needed to be. A little rough around the edges, a little messy, but brimming with a love that had already survived an apocalypse. You broke away to finally answer his declaration with one of your own, “I have loved you for so long, War. And I love you so,” you kissed him again, “so,” another peck just for good measure, “much.”

War sighed, eyes closing as you both simply rested in the moment, “and I you, I shall spend my days striving to prove it to you to make up for the time lost. You’ve given me your heart, so you shall have mine.” The words sounded so right to his ears. He saw your eyes start to water again but you quickly hid your face in his chest. “I’ll be sure to take care of it,” you managed to choke out.

You felt his chest rumble as he answered, “I know you will, my love.”