Request with the couple that really called to me at the moment!
Far from healthy, but as much as I can imagine it can be with someone as Diligence. Mel exists, as well as reader. Humans are born much more often than every 10k years.
— you making it so far, in terms of age, is a hell of an oversight. it wasn't supposed to happen. he trusted his fellow virtues too much.
— it's already taking an unacceptable amount of time to complete the mecha pope. and this unfortunate mistake has significantly slowed the process down.
— he cannot afford another accident. not on his watch.
a rhetorical question, of course. not where it — you — should be anymore.
— temperance just couldn't, well, to put you on the supply, not when he had raised you. it is much easier when humans are younger. but you were raised exactly to see what would happen if an adult specimen would be fed to the machine.
— so, both options are equally bad for you. you can't stay with either the angels or the virtues, as each of them dreams of making you the horseman of the apocalypse for the other. and the rotlings... will simply end you as soon as they find out about your origins.
— you sat there, torn apart by doubts, not far from the border between the paradise lost and the gaslight district. there were guards, but they pretended not to see you, probably for their own safety.
— you heard him approaching from afar with his marching, yet graceful strides. you know you don't stand a chance against him if you decide to fight or run.
— "have you lost something, nephilim?"
you clenched your teeth. he always refers to you as "that" — a nephilim without a name. however, it's better than being referred to by a number, like every other human before you, as temperance has informed you about.
— you don't respond. because it always only gives him more reasons to pick on you.
— a firm cold hand lays on your shoulder, nails — claws — digging into your soft flesh, through the fabric, borderline painfully. you resist the urge to shake off the touch, and stand up, finally turning to him.
— his tall frame towers above everything, not just you, but it feels like he is asserting dominance over you in particular.
— the things is, you don't even hate him. on the contrary...
— it's hard to imagine a worse scenario than falling in love with someone like him, especially given who you are. indeed, the heart wants what it wants.
— you have no parents, no friends to talk to about it. that's just another cross you have to bear, in addition to all the others.
— you look at him and see only a practical approach towards you. and you try to follow it as it will grant you his affection.
— but the thing is, obedience doesn't impress him this much. this is what he expects from others as a given. your rebellious antics, on the contrary, attract him, if you can say so in relation to how he feels.
— it's quite unusual for him to experience something outside his usual range of emotions, which consists mostly of righteous wrath combined with persistent annoyance.
— he finds it pleasant, not even in a sadistic way, to be in charge of your safety. an alien thought comes up from time to time. the thought of leaving you just... be. the thought of you staying alive and under his watch tingles something in his mechanical body and even in his fleshy brain.
— so here you both are, feeling confused and hesitant about taking a single step forward.
— until the day the smiling dead showed up. they didn't seem to notice you with the fuss. you, however, while diligence was distracted dealing with the intruders, slipped away from his supervision. you just felt that these creatures weren't here for any minor reason.
— long story short, you got caught up in a fight. not as a participant, but as a victim, being hit by a random swing of a blade, and you didn't even know who it belonged to.
— hot black blood splattered onto your chilled skin. you've never seen so much of your own blood before, and it made your legs feel weak. you could barely escape to a relatively safe place, clutching your open wound on the stomach.
— at least it's easy to blame it on angel's blood. you were terrified at the thought of being exposed.
— you found yourself whispering, begging diligence to show up. even though it was a good excuse for him to get rid of you like he had always dreamed of, without even being directly involved.
— he didn't come. you barely made it to temperance, only to find him missing, having somehow abandoned his work halfway through.
— he actually taught you how to take minor urgent care of yourself. not much he could educate you on dealing with alive flesh, but at least you managed to sew yourself up before shutting down.
— it was a horrible sight for diligence. a sight of his defeat. he became even more convinced that no one could be trusted with important matters. and the most important matter at that moment was you.
— he did everything in his abilities and knowledge. your wound, it wasn't fatal. he's scanned it first of all. as he held your unconscious body, he, for the first time, felt a disgusting, burning, stabbing sense of guilt.
— there wasn't a practical need to keep holding you next to the chest. there wasn't a need to keep doing it, especially when you woke up, dizzy, eyes barely focusing. for a second, you thought you had died. seeing his porcelain body covered in thick black blood is quite... a view.
"that's exactly why you shouldn't wander alone, nephilim"
he said, gently digging his nails into your wound, causing you to squint in pain. it wasn't a gesture of dominance, as it always was. it was a gesture of... nervousness mixed with concern.
— it's not easy for both of you, and it will never be. but with enough of diligence... it may work out.