Blake Belladonna X Shy Male Reader

The Past Must Die

(Y/N), a ten year old child is running throughout the house into his parents' bedroom. On the bed is his mother, lying with a black eye while watching TV.

Mother: (Y/N)! Sweetheart! What happened?

(Y/N): D-Dad.

Mother: Oh, Jeez.

???: Where is that little shit!

Mother: Behind me.

You moved and coward behind your mother. In came your father, mad with a belt in his hands.

Father: Move it, Crystal!

Crystal: Damnit, Jacob! Just let the boy go!

Jacob: Yeah, well, its not my fault your damn genes are inside that piece of-

Crystal: You shut your mouth!

Jacob: You don't tell me what to do!

You father walked up to your mother and slapped her across the face, striking her in her eye. Your mother grabbed your father's wrist and punched him in the stomach.

Crystal: Run, (Y/N)!

You did as your mother told and ran out of the room. Before your father took off after you, your mother grabbed his and threw him towards the bed. Before your mother took off to help you, your father grabbed her and threw her to the ground.

Jacob: Someone stop her! I'll get the boy.

Two guards came into the bedroom and grabbed your mother by her arms. She began to scream as your father took off towards the rest of the house to find you. You, meanwhile, ran up the stairs towards the one place you knew better than your own room, the attic.

It was a common place for you to run to, being able to map out the entire room in your mind. Opening the door to the attic from your room's ceiling. You covered up the entrance with a poster you made your parents buy you for this exact purpose. You ran over to some of the old paintings among the scattered areas the room.

You pushed some of the larger boxes around to build yourself a fort like you used to. From one of the larger boxes you opened it and took out its contents. Inside was a case of dust, from burn to lighting dust. After filing through all the dust, you took out the main item in the box, a giant cannon that you could barley hold up thanks to your small stature.

You set up the cannon on the box and just loaded it with the dust rounds. You just waited. And waited. Eventually, you heard creeks coming from below you. You were terrified because you knew your father was in your room. You kept silent, knowing any sounds would alert him to your presence. However, it wasn't enough as a few bullets were shot into the attic floor, not near you fortunately.

Jacob: (Y/N)! Son! Get down here! Daddy just wanna talk to ya!

You didn't respond, just kept quiet, nervous. Finally, the door to the attic slammed opened and your father emerged from below. In his hands was a bat and a hand gun. You grabbed the handle bars of the cannon and took aim. Your father held up is hands in defense before gaining a cocky smirk on his face.

Jacob: Now, kiddo, put it down.

(Y/N): Don't hurt me! Don't hurt Mom!

Jacob: Alright, kiddo. Just put the gun down and I'll put my gun down.

You nodded and slowly let go of the handle bars. You sent down the bat and gun and extended his arms out like a hug. You slowly walked up to him. However, you went straight for the door to your room instead of the man you knew as "father".

Jacob: Ada a boy.

You walked down to your room, followed by your father. In your doorframe was your mother, standing there with a bruise on her right cheek. Suddenly, your father grabbed your arm and began to drag you away.

Crystal: NO! Don't hurt him!

Thug: Ma'am! You need to stay here.

Crystal: NO! That's my son!

Jacob: Hold her!

You could only watch as your mother struggled to free herself to come to your defense. Your father led you into a back room and threw you into a wall. You flipped yourself around and could only cower in fear as your father began to beat you against the wall. He began to smack and hit you over and over again.

Jacob: C'mon, you little shit! Ain't no son of my is going to stand there and take this!

He kept beating you into the wall, forming a bruise on your head as well and a cut on your cheek. After what felt like forever in the pain, your father stopped and stood up to look at you in pain.

Jacob: Disgrace.

Suddenly, the sound of a gun cocked and both you and your father turned around to see your mother holding a gun, aiming it towards your father.

Crystal: Get away from him!

Jacob: Oh, sweetheart, put the gun down and w-

Your mother shot your father three times in the chest, sending him onto the ground. However, before you could move over next to your mother, your father sat up and looked at his wife in anger and pain.

Jacob: THAT! Was uncalled for!

Crystal: Wha-

Your father ran up to her and slapped her across the face. However, you ran up to your father and attempted to punch him in the face. However, your father avoided the attack and grabbed your wrist. When your mother returned to the tussle, your father was able to turn the gun around pulled the trigger and shot your mother in the stomach three times.

You got away from your father and went to your knees and began to cradle your mother in your arms.

(Y/N): MOM!!!

You began to shake your mother, trying to get her awake.

Jacob: Someone get in here and get this bag out of my house!!!

Your father reached down and picked you up and began to drag you away.

Jacob: You...are grounded!

He dragged you all the way up the stairs and back into your room. He threw you on your bed and grabbed the key and locked the door.

Jacob: You get out when I want to teach you something useful.

He slammed the door and you were forced to deal with your mother's loss of life alone. That's when you had enough with your father's ignorance and his anger. You decided to enact a plan you had an idea for awhile now. As night set across the land of Vale, you grabbed your effects into a small bag and opened the window.

You looked back at your room and turned back to the night. You jumped out the window and landed onto the dirt around your house. You ran past the gardens and guards lining along the border of the property and into the night.

You stirred awake from your sleep, still inside the cave. You had another memory flash from the day your mother died. Before you sat up, you noticed and saw a weight on your chest, it was Blake, curled up, using your body as a pillow. She let out soft purrs as she slept on top of you. You continued to get up, but Blake forced you to stay down.

Blake: Few more minutes.

(Y/N): O-O-O-Ok.

Blake: Thank you, (Y/N).

You decided to return to sleep, but not before hearing Blake softly moan and purr on your chest and one last line.

Blake: I love you.