One-shots

The Reason- Striker

WARNING: Angst

               There were a lot of creatures that constantly questioned Striker on whether or not he had been in love. He would always sneer at them, causing them to cower and be sorry for even asking. But the truth was, he had been once. A long time ago, too long for most demons who knew him to remember. So long that he couldn't remember the sound of her voice anymore, or even the color of her eyes. He would stare at the only black and white photograph he had of them and sigh, trying desperately to remember how she got the scar that went through her left eye, or if she had any others. What he did know was that she was beautiful, and worth far more than all the money in the world.

She had put up with his attitude, loved him despite the way that he was so arrogant and pushed her away. She had wormed her way into his heart with about as much subtlety as a bulldozer, but he loved that about her. She had been determined to get what she wanted, and she made sure she did. The years that he had spent with her were the happiest he had ever felt. She was always taking care of him and his wounds, scolding him and trying to shame him into being more careful. She would roll her eyes when he tried to tell her it wasn't that bad, and he could have sworn that she would poke the wounds a little more than she needed to just to prove her point. It drove him crazy, but now he would give anything to have her dressing his wounds, even with the pokes and prods that he felt were more than necessary.

She was kind, too kind for hell, and nothing would have separated them if it hadn't been for that damn extermination. She happened to be in pride heading to work when it happened. He was heading to her work to surprise her with lunch, only to be met with screams of terror and angels with swords flying overhead. He had dropped their lunch and ran towards her job, hoping desperately to get there before anything could touch her. He almost made it.

She had been meeting with an overlord when the extermination began, and Striker got there right in time to see the overlord disappear, leaving y/n behind as an angel swooped down with its sword. It slashed through her, and she was gone. He didn't get to say goodbye. He didn't get to tell her he loved her. She was gone before she even saw that he was there for her last moments. He had sprinted to where she had been, letting an agonized scream rip from him. The angel had already turned and left, leaving him to grieve. He didn't know why they didn't take him too. He never would. But as he held her corpse close, the tears fell for the last time. After her death, he wouldn't be able to cry anymore. He only ever felt hatred for the overlords and nobility. Not just the one who had left her there to die, but all of the other ones as well by association. And if he wasn't feeling hatred, it was just numbness. He would sometimes catch himself sitting and staring blankly at a wall, trying to just conjure the sound of her voice saying that she loved him before she left for work that morning. Trying to think of the color of her shining eyes while they laid in bed together after a long week, teasing one another and laughing in between kisses.

He didn't need to know the color of her eyes to remember the shine in them, to remember the way that she saw the good in him when even he couldn't. He didn't need to hear the sound of her voice to remember the things that she said to him. But oh, what he wouldn't give to just be able to hold her one more time.