I absolutely despise it when a fanfiction is an ‘x Reader’ but then the reader is given a physical description. Like... Who is this blonde skinny girl? What blue eyes are we talking about? That hair is much too straight for me! Fuck that shit

Chapter 1

This is the story of a child who was born from an Angel and a human.  HIs name, is Thomas Di Angelo. The date was November 25th on the city of New Orleans.  The sky was covered in an endless blanket of storm clouds as the sound of thunder echoed around the town.  Showing its powerful beat as the rains pelted the ground below.  lightning arced trough the clouds, as it reflected through the rain.

As the storm played its melody a young child was busy snickering and bouncing without a care in the world, at the contents of the book in front of him.  Flipping through page after page as he consumed the information of the book.  This energetic child is Thomas who is now 8 years of age.  His skin is now olive brown as his hair has grown into a curly wool like bush of messy black and silver hair which curls around his face in pointed clumps of hair.  And at the moment he sat in the middle of the orphanage as he read his birthday gift while he listened to the pitter patter of the rainfall on the roof of the building as he smiled contently.  The boy had always had a love for the storms, even if they were dangerous sometimes.  Especially to where he lived.  And while many of his fellow kids hated them.  Thomas loved them, they felt like, home to him in a way.  He couldn’t explain it but they just felt right to him.

Whilst the boy was enjoying his book, another child around the same age as him, shuffled up towards the little bookworm.  He had floppy unkempt brown hair with fair skin.  His name was Johnathan and to the approaching child.  Thomas was interesting-albeit a little weird.  But entertaining none the less.  When other kids would play Thomas played pranks.  Whenever there were breaks from chores Thomas would read as opposed to the other kids who just talked or rested.  When John finally reached the boy he peered over Thomas’ book. “Hey, what’re ya reading?”  he asked.  But he received no reply, he only saw stormy gray and blue eyes snapped up to his eyes before they frantically returned to the book quicker than a blink.  At this John was a little confused but he asked again.  This time only getting a quick “Hm?” from the boy before he returned to the contents of the book as a mischievous smirk began to crawl upon the boy's face as John began to join him as he began catching on to the game. “What's your name again?  wasn’t it tuna or something?”  The boy snickered lightly as he turned his head side to side as the smile grew on each of the boy's faces as this kept going.  Question after question, a small response was given as there was more each time as John began to get a handle of the erratic nature of the kid in front of him until they both began to have an actual conversation as they learned more about the other.  What their favorite color is, to what book Thomas was reading, and so on and so on until they began to become friends. “My name’s Thomas by the way, Thomas Di Angelo“  “Thomas huh, well my name’s Johnathan.  Or just John if ya want! “  “Alright, imma call you Johnny cocoa beans” Thomas joked as Johnathan rolled his eyes.  “Sure, as long as I can call you tomcat.”  The two boys laughed at their nicknames as they walked off just having fun as they each got a new friend today and neither could have been happier.

After months and months and sometimes even years their bond grew more and more. And more and more they saw the best and worst of each others traits.  And in John’s case, it was his reluctance to enter the fray during stressful situations.  For Thomas, this was his mischievous nature.  While it was fun to watch it also made him the main target of some of the bullies in the orphanage who was tired of feeling like an idiot because they fell for another one of his pranks.  And this swelled into its highest capacity on Thomas’ tenth birthday as a harsh storm raged overhead, like his other birthdays.  But unlike those.  This one was dangerous and wicked.  As if the sky was trying to restrain itself from destroying the city beneath it.  Unlike the other storms this one seemed to be followed with a darkness, and at its center was a boy in the orphanage e who was surrounded by a ring of kids each shouting and jeering for a fight as Thomas and the heavy set stocky older boy stared the other down.  One fuming with a red face while the other looked forward in a seemingly crazed energetic mischevious smile.  The sound of chanting rang through the old building as their stomps and yells vibrated on the floor below them as they then bounced in their ribcage.  Whether anyone knew this or not, today was a turning point for something.  And it weighed upon the two boys as they began to prod the other with insults.

“You brat!  I don’t know why you keep lookin’ in those books so much.  I mean we all know your parents are probably in the gutter somewhere. probably with their face in a bottle”  Probably celebrating they left your ass here!”  Those words struck Thomas hard as his eyes began to twitch as he could feel his anger crawl up his body, daring him to swing a fist as his thoughts were almost filled to the brim with saying one more thing you fat Bastardo.  Try me but he balled his fist as he fired back

“wow, an original thought!”  He mocked with surprise “Who would have thought he had a brain?!  Let's give him a hand everyone!  Because this is a truly great moment.  He’s finally reached past a babies age in speech.  “good for youuuuu” he drew out. He said tucking his book underneath his arm as he started a clap as everyone followed along with him as a round of applause descended upon the rooms thunder joined in with them, as the redness of the bullies face intensified as he was feeling more and more humiliated with each cheer and whistle as everyone began  holding their sides from laughing as Thomas continued “I mean we all thought it was just empty in there guess you got a microscopic brain then  But I bet by now you can't understand me huh.  SO here lemme translate.”  “Huuurb a deerp I fee smart.  Me got goo brain, Me finally think!”  He laughed as he held is book to his chest as he led his stomach. as he was joined by the crowd who either ooed or laughed alongside him.  At his words the older boy's face turned a new shade of red as he began to fume and fume =, his breathing intensified as his throat began to grunt with anger as his body began to shake with fury and annoyance with patches of humiliation to boot as his irises began to fade to red and back to the original blue as his grunts slowly began to  get more and more inhuman. As the rain from outside pltted harder and harder like a crescendo as it seemed to be reaching a climax of some kind.

“Uh oh, looks like his brains gone, everyone.  “Gosh darn it,”  he said crossing his arms in a swing as he spoke with false sadness  “he came so far too.  Well, I guess you can't rely on everything I guess.  Well then, ladies and gentleman, please let me announce the first ever human wart ho-”  Before he could finish the bully punched Thomas in his gut.  Thomas could feel his knuckles burying itself in his stomach as all of his breath exited his breath with a single gasp, like his stomach was the giant balloon as he careened into  the crowd  falling face first due to multiple people pushing him back as his head struck against the floor as his book flipped and tumbled to the foot of the bully, as he scooped up the book.

“So, I ain’t got a brain huh.  Well, I guess I might as well do this then”  He snarled as he grabbed the book on both of its sides as with one swift motion he tore the book in fourths as he threw me on the ground before spitting on the mangled mess.  As Thomas heard the sound of the book ripping he felt tears well up in his eyes as he began to see red with anger as one last insult set him off.

“Look at that, just like you and your family isn't it? Just a pile of useless, unwanted trash that belongs in the ground” And with that final push, a cry broke through the chants as Thomas scrambled to his feet as he charged forward and tackled the bully to the ground, swinging and punching with all that he had in him.  All of his anger, all of his sadness, all of his hidden though, all the negative things that were in Thomas were infused with each punch as his knuckles attacked whatever part of the boy was exposed.  Each strike was backed by a booming thunderclap as with each strike thrown was followed by a bolt of lightning ripping through the sky.  Thomas was lost in his anger.  He couldn't stop.  With each hit the skin of his knuckles was exposed but he didn't care.  With each hit, a part of the bullies face was broken and bloodied as hit after hit Thomas’ fist had blood covering his fists as his eyes were bloodshot and teary.  The pain of his fists and exposure of his skin stung, but instead of pulling back it fueled the boy, Thomas began to enjoy it.  With each new punch, the bully wept and begged for the onslaught to end but each plea fell on deaf ears as punch after punch rained down on his face.  Al of the cheering stopped as everyone began to murmur in fear.  But did Thomas care? No, not even a little.  He was enjoying his onslaught.  A massive and monstrous storm of thoughts flooded his mind, each telling him to keep going, hit harder, don't let up now.  make him feel all of your pain, he deserves it.  This massacre continued for nearly two minutes and as Thomas riled up his last fist as sickening crack of a whip echoed through the air, stopping his fist in mid-arc as the room was driven into a deafening silence as all eyes were on the caretaker as she strode towards the pair, parting the sea of children as she made her way over as with each foot was a chilling. “click” “Click” “Click” as she walked.

She was a graying old woman, the caretaker of the orphanage.  And she did not look pleased in the slightest. The old woman was a wrinkling woman with a hooked nose with a reed boil resting on the ur of her nose as her hair was tied in a tight bun that seemed to pull her skin back.  Her eyes were furious and showed the bowls of hell as she glared at Thomas with a frown so dark and angry that if looks could kill.  Everyone in the vicinity would die two times over.  And now she walked towards Thomas with a stalking and angry manner as her heels clicked with each step.  “Click” “Click” “Click” The heels went as she now towered over Thomas, gripping his arm with an iron vise-like grip as she dragged the child to her office before slamming the door with a deafening thud.  With one simple movement the aging woman flung the child into a small stool as he crashed into the wooden object,  falling face first on the cold hard floor.  As the caretaker paced around with that annoying chilling click of her heels.  Shaking her head and muttering scatter thoughts of disbelief, disgust, anger and disappointment.  As if she was having a mental battle with herself as to how she would handle the events that just unfolded.  

Thomas on the other hand slowly picked himself off the ground, as he felt as cold as ice.  The room chilled him to the bone.  His body began to shudder as he could see his breath crystallize in the office as he was still thinking on the words of the bully as they turned over and over in his head as they were given more and more weight as his own thoughts began to envelop and strengthen them.  Nearly reigniting his bloodlust but honestly, he had too many thought in his mind.  There were so many that he couldn't even count.  He thought of the pain in his knuckle, he thought of what was about to happen to him. he thought of so much.  it was as if his thoughts were a never-ending hurricane as they whipped while in his mind.  This would have continued for a long time but there was a thought that broke through the others.  It was of the caretaker.  The old caretaker was strict, yeah, and she didn’t like fighting, but she never pulled down that old whip.  For as long as he's been there that thing was collecting dust.  Something was wrong, and the more he thought of it the more anxious and scared he became.  Even to the point where he began to shiver, and this time it wasn’t just because of the cold.  Something dark was here, and whatever it was it put his nerves on edge.  He tried to listen to the pelting of the rain to calm himself but it didn’t bring him any comfort like it usually does.  Instead, it sounded like crying.  This above all the other things sent his body into fight or flight mode.

And in this case, his body was screaming with every nerve in his body that this was a time for flight.  And so on and on this cycle continued until that damned sound of the whip caused him to jerk towards the caretaker.  His face paled as her face had not changed, he sill only saw hell in her eyes.  And with a cruel calm and prickly voice, she spoke.

“Di Angelo,  what...was that?  What was that my child?”  Her voice with each sentence began to raise and raise.  Getting louder the more she talked.  “What, went through, that head of yours which made you decide to break, that POOR BOYS NOSE!”  She roared.  “Do you have any explanations?  Do you have any adequate reason for putting your hands on another child?!”  she yelled.  “Well?  What do you have to say for yourself boy?  Speak.  Now.   Or so help me you will wish you did!” with that last worked the whip cracked once more making Thomas jump in fear.  

“He hit me first!  he talked about my parents! he destroyed my book. he told me they were garbage and deserved to be in the ground!  What was I supposed to do let him hit me?!  Let him insult me and my parents?!  No, he deserved everything I gave him!”  the child spat with venom and anger in his voice he was mad at the bully, he was mad at her, he was mad at his life.

“Your parents? Hmph, if I were you I’d stop holding them in such high esteem.  They left their only child on my doorstep in the cold rain.  They were probably deadbeats and drunkards who didn't even want a child or couldn’t find anyone to buy you.  So they left you here, like as your victim stated.  Like trash”  Those cruel cold words struck Thomas harder than anything else in his life.  He felt tears begin to fill his eyes once more, filling him with sadness and an unbridled fury as the boy once again swung his fists but they were caught in an iron grip as they were pulled high in the air as he felt his shoulders nearly go out of socket as the aging woman stared into him eye to eye as her face curled in a mix of anger and cruelty as she said these final words.

“So...you want to fight hmm?  You want to strike me hm?  Well, then allow me to oblige”  Her smile curled and stretched to the sides of her face as she looked pure evil.  The caretaker grasped Thomas on his wrists throwing ing him into the wall as his face looked at the cracked old moldy wall as the caretaker tore off his shirt leaving is back bare to the cold wind as he shuddered at the new draft.  But, he sadly had much more to worry about than cold.  As behind him, the whip was being raised as he saw the shadow rise overhead.  This filled him with a fear so intense he begged or her to stop.  He begged for her to not do it he screamed and pleaded but all of those cries for mercy did nothing as the whip slipped through the air, striking his back.  Ripping and tearing his skin as he cried blood-curdling screams of agony and pain.  The whip felt like the flames of hill seared into his back, as jagged sharp rocks dug into the newly exposed skin and tissue, carving his body up even more.  And so it went crack after crack.  Cry after cry.  very scream, every sob, every piece of sound from that room echoed around the orphanage causing each of the kids to cry and trying to shut out the noise as much as they could. And so on this torture went for ten whole minutes with no relief as Thomas’ back was cut to ribbons as his back was scarred with woulds that would stay there for the rest of his life.  His eyes were creating pools of rears as his throat felt like a cheese grater went through it.  It was bare and broken as he could barely make a sound as he curled into a shuttering ball as he was surrounded by his own tears and blood, now scared for his life, both in and out.  And there stood the caretaker, with the same sickening kind smile from earlier looked into the boy's eyes.

“Now then my angel, clean yourself up and go off to bed.  Oh!  And I hope this has taught you a valuable lesson.  Sweet dreams!’  She cooed with false care. At her voice Thomas shuddered in pain and anger as he stared at where she walked off from the room as with the last of his voice he promised with all that he was that he would make her pay for this and that no matter what he would prove her wrong