SCP Oneshot Book!

Humanoid!SCP-735 x D-Class!Sensitive!Reader ~ I'm Sorry

(Requested by doggie_playz)
Warning: very heavy swearing, lots of curse words, mentions of abuse, sensitive topics

Your mother always put up with your father's harsh words, beatings and irresponsible behaviour. She tried her very best to raise you as best as a parent could in an abusive household. The only reason why she hadn't divorced with her husband earlier was due to the fact that he was the only one who had a job, and it paid well. He had convinced his wife to give up her career and be a stay-at-home mother when you were born, effectively making her dependent on him. It was ten years after your birth when she finally slammed the divorce papers down onto the table, took you by the hand and left him forever. As expected, your father took it to court, but your mother still won custody of you. The scars and bruises were enough evidence.

Another ten years passed by, life was great. You had found a stable job and got your very own house that your mother lived in with you as well. Like any other evening, the two of you were watching the news in the living room, unaware of what was about to happen.

A knock on the door.

Your mother answered it and her face went pale.

He was back.

That night, you lost your mother and killed a man with a shotgun. As if life couldn't get any worse, the police suspected you as the murderer of both of them. At the trial, there wasn't enough evidence to prove that you only did it purely in self-defense, and the guilty expression on your face did nothing to help. They sentenced you to death.

Then some uniformed men came to your cell a few days after, they were unlike the police officers, offering community work in exchange for your freedom. You accepted eagerly, not wanting to pass the opportunity up.

So that's how you ended up in a room with a therapist on a daily basis for a week. You weren't in serious need of therapy, the guards just took you out of your cell and brought you here. It wasn't even trauma therapy, it was anger management. Even the therapist herself wouldn't say anything about it other than, "It will come in handy soon".

The day came. You knew because the guards didn't take you through the usual route they had been taking for the past week. Personnel sent you pitying looks through the halls, like they knew that what you were about to go through was going to be bad.

You didn't like the sound of that.

"(Class-D Designation), if you want, just raise your hand and we'll get you out of there immediately, " a scientist informed you, he was holding a clipboard. He took out his keycard, tapped it on the keycard reader and entered the observation area. A moment later, the containment door opened. The guards wasted no time pushing you into there, but you were used to the rough treatment.

"Well, another one of those pathetic death row inmates? " a male voice drawled. The voice belonged to a man that looked to be in his mid-twenties, black hair with silver highlights that was brushed to the side, dark eyes and fair skin. His attire consisted of a grey suit and black pants. His tone was aggressive and belittling. "The fuck do you want? "

You could answer, but you didn't know what you were there for, so you kept your mouth shut tight. "Oh of course you don't fucking answer, you've always kept quiet, haven't you? You never had the bravery to speak up for yourself, fucked you up didn't it? Useless piece of shit, " he sneered, leaning forwards from the chair he was sitting on. It was true, you were too fearful. Perhaps if you had decided to speak up at the trial you wouldn't have been imprisoned. You averted your gaze to the ground and sighed defeatedly.

"Your mother should have left you to die. Yet, she still kept you. Maybe that's where you got your stupidity from, " he spat, getting up to walk around you. A spark of anger ignited in you, but it vanished as soon as it appeared, washed away by sadness. "You're a disappointment, a failure. "

"I gave you shelter, I fed you, I took good care of you, and this is how you repay me? " a familiar voice shouted. There was the image of your mother, her face scrunched up in disgust at you. "Worthless, good-for-nothing bitch. I don't even know why I took you with me," she snapped.

"I wish I could have saved you. I really do. Didn't you say you forgave me? " you cried out, recalling the moment. She barked out a laugh and mocked, "Did you really think I meant it? You're just as bad as your fucking father. "

"I'm not! " you screamed out, but deep inside you doubted your words. Your mother's image glared at you and transformed into him.

"Why did I even bother giving you food? Should've starved you or gotten rid of you years ago when I had the chance, " his gruff voice said disapprovingly. Tears started to brim in your eyes and memories flashed by of him hitting your mother with a belt, and all you could do was hide in the closet and watch. Countless times, he had treated you and your mother like dirt, restricting her from going out, losing his temper when one of you did something wrong. You thought you were over that, and now you were reliving it all over again. Why was the world always against you?

SCP-735 didn't understand why you weren't mad. He had done everything he could to try to anger you, nothing worked. All you felt was sadness and now you sat on the ground weeping before him. It was making him guilty, he disliked it. He never felt guilt for saying anything before, why now?

The humanoid cursed softly at the internal debate happening in his head. After a full minute of him just standing there he kneeled down and hesitantly hugged the crying female in front of him.

You were shocked, but only for a fraction of a second before you hugged back and buried your face into his shoulder, not caring that he had been insulting you moments before. "I'm sorry, " he muttered.

It was only when you calmed down that you replied, "Thank you. "

Two months later, and he still hasn't forgiven himself for it. He apologises every chance he gets, and it's adorable to you. Although, he still swears a lot and unintentionally makes snarky retorts, but you don't mind. You know he doesn't mean it.

"Hey, 735, didn't you used to be a box? " you asked out of curiosity one meeting. You may or may not have eavesdropped on some scientists and heard some interesting information.

"...Yes? " he replied in a questioning tone.

A thought appeared in your mind and you failed to hold in a laugh.

"I don't find that funny, " 735 remarked.

"Sorry, I just imagined you as a box, yelling at people. "

"As laughable as that may seem, you'd be surprised at the amount of assholes who tried to destroy me, " he said. "Only to realise that they couldn't. "

"That must be sad to witness. "

"No, it was entertaining, " the SCP corrected.

You burst out laughing.

"(Class-D Number), exit the containment area, " the same old voice said.

"Awe, bye 735," you said, walking out of the door. You wished you could stay longer, but the guard would just drag you out. How do you know? You tried it once.

The SCP hummed in response and smirked at you as the door closed.

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1302 words
arrghhh I didn't know how to portray him!!! I feel like this is garbage, sorry