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Chapter Text

Gabriel couldn't feel anything, couldn't see anything and he couldn't hear anything. All his senses were completely nullified within this void he'd been stuck in for centuries. That imposter, where have they taken him and what are they doing now? The shackles, for his own knowledge, should have been rotting this entire time. All things, even metal, inevitably suffer the effects of nature. He heard the click beneath him, dangling as he usually is within the empty, void space. 

He shook suddenly, with a vigor he'd never known before. He shook himself with a passion, a hunger that he could only describe as sheer excitement and want. 

The next one clicked, along with the one secured around his wrist. He didn't feel the force of gravity like he expected, and came to the conclusion that it didn't exist here. The weathering down of metal apparently did, and that imposter didn't seem to know. The last one shattered, and out sprung his wings through the slits of his robe.

At first, he didn't know where to go, nor where he was going to go. He knew it so, he had heard the call from Michael before his own fall, God was gone. He couldn't recall, but it was likely they all were, possibly reduced to a similar state he was. If his luck was even worse than it is now, they might even all be dead. He had one mission, to tell the humans of the coming of the lord, and all Hell broke loose. 

The space warped around him, until he seemed to break through the thickness of the space he was in. Mandela County. Why would it lead here, is this where he would find the imposter? His intuition swore against it, but something inside his gut told him it was true. The town is dark, and the sky is filled with glittering stars. They shine bright, but offer hardly any illumination. He curls his fingers towards his thumb, forming a circle with them. It didn't work. 

His heart shattered inside of his chest, like throwing a piece of fine china across the floor and shattering it. He slumped over, his bones becoming mush and his limbs noodles. He was wracked with a sadness he'd never known before. 

The explanation to this issue must mean either his abilities aren't working properly, or something severely wrong has occurred within Heaven. Without a secure passageway, he has no access back to Heaven anymore. His wings slip back in, nerves curling up in his stomach. He would have to deal with humans while hunting down this monstrosity.

Gabriel walked down the road, seeing the occasional car which quickly drove past him without a hitch. He mostly hid from anything he saw, whether that was inside a bush or behind a house or mailbox. 

He felt an odd sense of insecurity, like something was watching from afar just so close to him he could hear it breathing. Scratch that, that's his own nervous breath. Still, something felt off, like someone had severely invaded his privacy. He saw no one, yet he still didn't feel it go away, like the being was gone and then back when he looked away. 

His skin crawled with anticipation, and it felt like his soul left his body for a moment when he saw it. It moved, ever so slightly in the darkness. Something, something about that tensed every bone in his body, and he stumbled. He could see the face in the distance, deformed and irregular to that of humans. He didn't have a word for it other than vaguely humanoid but freakishly formed to the rate of inhuman.

It walked towards him slowly, and he only stepped backwards more and more. The creature seemed to enjoy this more than it really should have, surely taking some sadistic pleasure from his fear. He had hardly spotted it within the pitch black darkness of the neighborhood, internally wishing he hadn't. 

He bolted for it and back down the way he'd come originally, back towards the safety of the outer rims of Mandela. He could hear it running, much, much louder and faster than he was, surely. How was it so fast, was that also a mutation? It gripped his curly, long locks in its claws hand, yanking it backwards towards it with a painful force. He yelled, screaming for help, for anyone to save him from the nightmare. It's all an awful dream, an awful nightmare that be was going to be out of any moment from. 

He felt the monster, he felt it pressed against his back, and he couldn't move from his paralyzed fear. The claw, it dragged along the base of his neck and across his adams apple. His body stilled further, heart hammering and threatening to break loose from his chest.

The gunshot of an odd instrument rang out, and he instinctively covered his ears to block himself from what sounded like an explosion. Light spills from the house nearby, which he had been crying in front of. A man stood there, suited in what looked like childish gear known as pajamas. It was a nice fit for someone so fit and muscular, surely someone who works in some sort of military force of sorts. Do police exist yet? He recognized the instrument as a shotgun, and the gun scared away the being that had been behind him, leaving him shaking like a leaf. 

He had recognized such equipment, as it was foretold that humanity would inevitably advance and create things such as cars, guns, proper homes and other luxuries, even cinemas! He likes those. It had not foretold these creatures, these imposters who roamed wearing human skin. They were truly evil, ones who shattered even fate that was thought to be written in stone. 

The man spoke, and they had approached while he was spaced out, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "We best getcha inside before that damn thing comes back to grab ya', fella. I don't know where yer' house be, but I wouldn't trust yer'self out in the dark like that," and so they did.

The house was warm, and it smelt like cinnamon sticks. Delicious. The man was hospitable, and he could see trophies and medals lining the wall with valor. How much pride can one have before it's a sin? Surely this isn't too excessive, it's just a bit of gloating. 

Gabriel liked the house though, and the man sat him down. This felt more like an interrogation than anything, even though they'd given him some tea to calm the nerves. They said, "So, little lady, how'd ye' find yer'self outside in that sure awful situation?" He shattered underneath their gaze, although not visibly. Lady? Him? A glance at the clock, it was barely nighttime, he could use the excuse..

"I was on a walk back from the church, I'd lost track of time while praying to the Lord." He muttered. He sure didn't sound feminine, but he could just say he's a little sick. Oh well.

The man hummed, like in a form of acknowledgement, "Gotcha, yer' a lil' Christian lady, gotcha, all nice. I got a room ye' can stay in, I'll letcha stay for the night, no funny business. It don't got much, but I'm sure you can make use of it." He managed a nod, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. Why did they feel the need to mention 'no funny business'. Are all humans this weird and cryptic? 

"I'm sorry, sir, what do you mean by funny business?" *He leans forward, grabbing the cup of tea and taking a sip. It's a little bitter, but he can taste the slight sweetness of sugar. He indulged in the nice, warm treat which soothed his aching throat after screaming. It burned a tad, but he put that aside. "Yer' a nun, yeah? I'm sure ya' gotta put up with all them weirdos, gotta make sure you get I ain't tryna do nothing funny." 

Gabriel managed a nod, allowing the man to escort him into the lonely room. It was dark, and he was almost nervous to see it there again. There was a small television set and a shelf with a sizable sum of books on it. "This is yours for the night, lil' lady, ya' got some blankets on here mattress and some pillows too."

Gabriel was thankful for the kind gesture, which he willingly accepted. He felt tired, both from the travel and the sheer excitement of the experience calming down. He slipped into the bed, which felt like it hadn't been touched in, well, forever. Similarly, he felt like he'd never felt something so comfortable in his life. He cried inside, internally. How could've he forgotten how good having a good bed was? So long within that damn void, he must've gone a little insane. He sank into the comfort of the sheets, falling deep into his slumber and releasing himself to his exhaustion. 

—

He woke up in the midst of the night, the room lightly illuminated by the glow of his alarm shining in his face. That was hardly bright compared to the glow of the static on the television set that was playing, jarringly loud but it surprisingly hadn't been the thing that woke him up. He must've fallen asleep to some shitty show and the TV was just having issues.

He sat up in bed, rubbing his sleepy eyes and yawning. He would just turn it to another channel and fall asleep again. He squinted at the screen, and there he saw it, a face. He tried to scream for the kind man who'd save him, but there was something clogging his throat. It was the fear. 

He stated wide eyed, staring at the screen. What is he meant to do? He slowly reached for the remote on the bedside table, clicking the power button. It didn't turn off though, and he realized that the remote didn't even work at all when he tried to use it. He stood up from the bed, jostling the miraculously locked door knob. Someone locked it from the outside. 

He sighed, turning back to his bed. There, it sat. It sat on the side of the bed, staring at the television set licking blood off its claws mindlessly. "Why do you still stay here, Gabriel? You go missing for a long time, and then you ditch me for some human? Don't you remember all the humans we killed together?" 

He felt overwhelmed by this sudden accusation. Perhaps an acquaintance of his imposter version, or maybe someone he genuinely knew. He didn't recognize them, and they seem human other than the fact there's some odd sludge running down the side of their face and the sharp claws. He doesn't manage a word, more like a squeak. 

"I-.. I don't know." 

The monster didn't like this answer, of course it didn't. It rushed at him, and his body was petrified with their fear they summoned from the depths within him.* "You don't fucking know, Gabriel? Tell me another fucking joke. You started this charade, brother, and then you left me to clean up your messes."

He stammered at the accusation, his words clumping together for a few moments before collecting his thoughts. "I, I'm sorry. I.. I don't.. I don't know who you are." 

"Tell me a better one, god, are you actually that stupid or did you hit your head?! You're with a human now and you don't remember me, you're.. acting like a different person, Gabriel."

He tensed up underneath their gaze, staring back at them as they slowly backed away. Their confusion seemed to have melted away into hysterical laughter. They laugh and they laugh, and he almost feels a little concerned but more scared than anything. "Oh, now THIS is amusing! You're not my Gabriel, are you? Maybe you've come here from another universe to entertain me.. that would confirm my multiverse theory! I knew I wasn't insane! Or maybe.." 

The aura of the room suddenly became suffocating, and their features seemed like they were melting, their body parts becoming unrealistic to what they should be and stretching. He cowers back and into a corner, and although he's not prone to his wings unfurling on their own, they do when he's scared to this degree. 

Although he didn't see it, he knew they were slowly approaching from their footsteps. They parted his wings, staring at him with a grin he could only describe as someone going manic. He wanted to scream, but his aching throat urged him not to, and it was just a raspy noise. 

"What was that, Gabriel? Oh, poor Gabriel, losing your voice, now are you?" The being cooed at him, clearly mocking him, but he felt more scared than anything as they parted his wings and instead shifted themselves inside the space with him.

"Y'know, Gabriel, you're so different now, you're a completely different guy than the one I knew. So soft, so weak."

He shuddered, shrinking even further until he felt like he was practically nothing. He was curled up on the floor, becoming a mess of emotions and feelings underneath the stalking creature. He could not call them a man anymore, this was just a monster who wanted to torture him. 

"What are you gonna do, Gabriel? Cry? Who's going to save you, that human? No one can save you, Gabriel." Hands gripped golden locks, pulling him up from the floor. He's definitely shorter by quite a bit, hoisted off the floor and dangling quite a bit. He urged himself to move, to do something to protect himself. He started at them, but he couldn't speak or move. They snapped their other hand in his face, like bringing someone out of a trance. "Earth to Gabriel." 

"Please, don't kill me.." He muttered, his voice hardly fully there, shaking and breaking from the raspiness. His eyes squeezed closed as they harshly gripped his chin with their clawed hand. "Oh, I won't kill you, yet. I still need to present you to the real Gabriel when I find him. I'm sure it won't be too hard now that you're around."

The creature grins down at him, releasing his hair from their painful grip. He rubs the back of his head, feeling the burn from them pulling him. He slowly backs away once more, nervous and shaking like a leaf. "Oh, don't worry. I'll find Gabriel, or maybe he'll find you. Oh well. Toodles!" 

The room fell completely dark aside for the soft, blue glow coming off of his alarm. He crumbled to the floor, completely and utterly mentally spent. Holy shit.

Chapter Text

Gabriel sat in a cocoon of his wings on the floor for what felt like hours until he fell asleep once more. He woke up to the sound of the man's voice, the one who had saved his life from one of those monsters. They reminded him of demons, which he rarely but occasionally saw as a messenger going place to place. They shook him awake and even offered some breakfast, which he ate graciously.

"Mornin', lil' lassie. I never told you my name, did I? Names Thatcher, I work at the police department down the road. If you ever need help, just call the station and we'll do what we can." Gabriel was hesitant, offering a simple nod. After the night before, he was scared out of his skin. Where could he go to be safe? Where would he be safe? In this realm, he may as well be a human with some additions. 

Unlike humans, who usually have a stepping stool, he doesn't have anything and technically began existing a day ago. Thatcher had given him a foothold in society at the very least, and he left feeling energized for the day ahead of him. Thankfully, it's daytime, and the shadows don't seem as frightening as they did in the dark. However, they appear more sharp, less blurred than at night.

The church, as he can recall from Thatcher, is just some ways down the road by the police station. He walked some ways down the concrete sidewalk until he was face to face with the doors of the cathedral. It was a fair sized church, adorned with golden trinkets, statues and other glorious pieces of decoration. 

He found the place was packed, prepared for the weekly ceremony of prayer and scriptures. He seated himself at one of the many rows, pulling a bible from within his own clothing. It was a tad more decrepit than the ones offered by the church, but he's sure no one would particularly care. 

It was a form of popcorn reading of sorts, passing the scripture on to the next person in line. With this amount of people, all he could do was listen to the occasional stutter or mispronunciation of the verses he so dearly memorized. Some, he recalled, were even some phrases he had said himself.

The reading now passed to him, he slotted away his own bible and took the clearly mass produced and recently made bible. It wasn't old or falling apart like his own and the words were not handmade, but printed. How fake and cheap. He cringed at his selected passage, which he spoke aloud. 

He spoke the verse, "The angel answered and said to him, “I am Gabriel, who stands in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to bring you this good news." Which followed after the phrase the previous man had said. He found he was the very last, approaching the priest at the head with the bible at last, who finished the verse themself.

This was an utter waste of time, he decided. People were leaving, some stayed to leave their final prayers before departing. He was ready to leave himself, finding this was absolutely useless. The priest gripped him by his sleeve, pulling him back. "Hello, young one. Are you new in town, I have not seen your face here before.. but something is so vaguely familiar.."

The elderly man scruffed their well groomed beard, attending to their Bible before turning to the well made stained glass portraits. Most were faintly accurate, his included, and others were indescribably different from the truth. One depicted Michael as ginger, when he remembers Michael as more of a brunette. Samael looked like a man with painted red skin, something about 'Satan', when they actually appear quite ordinary. 

Angels, unlike belief, are not these floating orbs of eyes with holy light, they look like regular humans and hide within the crowds wearing their skin. Demons, however, easily do the same as well. Some are noticed if they appear with noticeable features, but most demons don't have those either like horns or tails. Those accessories are actually quite rare in demons, as well as angels with halos. 

"Oh yes, this one. You look like a spitting image of him.. what is your name again?" 

He answered without even bothering to look, nose half buried within a verse of Genesis. "Gabriel, sir. I am very pleased to meet you, Father."

They firmly pat him on the shoulder, giving a hearty, oddly genuine laugh. "Your parents must have seen the striking similarities as well to have named you that! You look just like Saint Gabriel, to the hair to the eyes.. to.." The words trailed off, and he looked at them. They were oddly horrified, why? What had he done wrong to upset them? 

He closed his scriptures, leaving it placed in the slot in the back of the rows where they belong. "Yes, Father? What seems to be the matter?" 

The priest coughed, and then they spat. They spat blood, which then seemed to pour from their eyes, and then their mouth. It spilled from every orifice possible, staining the beautiful blue carpet below them. "Father?! Are you okay?! Someone, please, someone, the Father's fallen!"

He knew the room looked far too small for the way it looked from the outside. From doors he thought were fake came fellow priests and nuns, surrounding the mess. He's sure the Father would have made it if he reacted sooner, but there was no way to keep the blood in. There were murmurs all around him, "Oh my God.." "Who could do such a thing?" "Please, contact Lieutenant Thatcher." "This must be the work of Satan.." 

The way they picked up the Father was.. disturbing. It wasn't like they were taking care of a delicate old man who's bleeding out, it's like they're dealing with a trash bag they're taking to the curb. He followed the crowd skeptically, and the more he followed, the more weird things became. 

These people, no, these things, their faces were beginning to distort the more he followed. They appeared similar to the one he'd originally been saved from by Thatcher, and he watched as they threw him from an area much higher than the other areas. They were framing a suicide. They spoke, but it was more like noises he couldn't understand. It hurt, and then they turned to him. He could see their features more clearly now, faces elongated and freakish with large, big eyes. All at once, their mouths spread into a large, wide smile. 

He backed away, slipping down the wall as they all seemed to crowd up on him. He just wanted somewhere to feel safe, and he only found that all the people inhabiting this place were some of those.. things. He had no doubt in his mind they caused the death of that poor man. 

Something far worse was here. It took him by his hair, painfully pulling him up to his feet and into the air. The creatures around him shied away, like they were quickly losing attention and left. "Gabriel, you're back. I told you to never show face here again." He doesn't.. recognize the voice. It isn't the imposter, he would've known, but then how does he know them?

Chapter Text

This chapter features dubious consent sex, so if you don't want to see it, it'll be marked for when you need to skip the chapter.

—

Held by his hair, the creature slowly lowered him to the floor, kicking the door to the small prayer room shut. The interior of the church at least seemed to once have been made for more holy purposes. He'd assume that now, it's just a slaughter house luring poor humans into the grasps of those monsters. What cruel irony, really. The people who you think preach the gospel, who you think can save you, are actually the same demons you run from at night.

The figure isn't one he recognizes, but they look much more ordinary than most of the other creatures, having a rather usual face and features. If not for the large set of wings, he would have mistaken them for just a simple human.

Their wings are large and angelic looking, fluffy and feathered. His own unfurl from within his shoulder blades, curling around himself. The boy just looks down at him for a few moments, sighing. "I told you to never come here again, back to Mandela. I thought you got out of my life for good, Gabriel, so why are you back?!"

They seem angry, really angry. He can't say 'seem' because he knows they are. Their pale skin is absolutely red with anger. "Look, I'm not who you think I am. I don't know how to prove that, but I don't know you."

"Liar!"

There's noises outside, like the sound of someone breaking into the church actively. The sound of the door caving in is obvious by the thump, followed by the sound of footsteps. Two people, hopefully humans. "Look, I don't know you. You have to believe me. If I'm truly the man you think I am, why would I be so nice? I already have another one of those.. *things*, after me."

He didn't know how to prove his case, internally begging any form of higher being that it would be police breaking in right now. Why would they sound so young then? They bust down the wall, and they're just these teenagers, these little teenagers.

"Adam, your dog fucking bit me!"

"What dog, I don't have any dogs."

"That stupid fucking alternate out front!"

"I told them to fuck off, so that isn't my fault, Jonah, do you want some dick as a sorry?!"

Gabriel is absolutely fucking baffled. What the fuck is he seeing. Not only did he find out what the names of these weird guys are, but they have the oddest conversations ever. Somewhere deep inside him, his holiness felt very unsettled by what he heard. At the same time, it was just a little funny. Him and the Jonah fellow burst into laughter, followed by the scolding of Adam.

"Okay, what the hell, why are you laughing? You're not even meant to be here right now, you're just, a guy!" Adam glares absolute daggers at him to the point he should feel more insulted than he does already.

"I don't know about you, Adam, but.. he seems really.. I dunno.. different? Am I the only one who thinks he's just more.. chill?" The third teen notes, more hidden behind Jonah like they're cowering away. The blonde just shrugs, plopping onto the floor. "I still can't just let him walk the fuck around. He didn't even change his clothes, same Gabriel or not."

"That isn't my fault, I just got here. I don't have what you humans call money." Jonah facepalms, groaning. "Oh my god, we have to get this stupid loser boy angel money and shit????? broo.. does he even need to eat??"

"Uh.. maybe? I don't know, probably not." Adam shrugged, yanking Gabriel along forcefully. "Mark, we're going to your house, it's big and I like it, Cesar's fucking sucks. Besides, Cesar's already there anyways, I heard you guys down the fucking road."

"Bro, what the hell?! Snitches get fucking stitches, Adam!" Mark yells, walking behind the group. He's awkwardly stuffed into a car, which makes him very interested. He tinkers with possibly everything he can, as well as this one button that made everyone, including himself, freak out because the car started beeping.

"Bro, who the fuck is this loser???" Mark groans, practically melting into their seat in the back. "He literally has no idea what the fuck anything is. I hate kids!!!"

—

The car ride is mainly tense, filled with him either being attacked with questions he mostly can't answer or just being plain verbally attacked. The things he does answer usually elicit some negative response towards it, and he just sort of gets used to this fact. Teenagers are so weird and odd, really.

He chills in the backseat, watching as the sun creates a small sliver of red in the sky as it slips below the horizon. There's just a fine line of pinkish red before the sky fades into a pretty navy blue. The sky twinkled like the day he first came here, shining but not offering any illumination. The car has these little lights, lighting up the road for them.

The house is pretty nice, he decides. A nice three story house with a decent yard. He doesn't know what humans consider a good house, but this is pretty nice looking.

They usher him inside, like he's a small child they're babysitting for the night. He sighs, sitting on the fairly plush couch in the living room. Someone's coming down the stairs. Cesar screams, and then Mark screams.

"Why are you screaming?!" Mark exclaimed, and then Cesar looked at Gabriel and then back at Mark.

"Why the fuck is Gabriel on your fucking couch, isn't he like really fucking bad or something?! I thought he was Adam's dad—.." Cesar seems really confused. No one filled him in.

"Ew. Don't mention that." Adam scoffed.

Cesar rolled his eyes, sliding down the railing of the stairs to the bottom floor. There's four of them now, about four too many. What could he have possibly done to them that they all somehow know him? Gabriel anxiously taps his fingers on his legs, waiting for the onslaught of questioning.

Adam started, "So if you're not the shitty Gabriel and all that, who are you?"

"Well, simple, I'm the real version he locked away for a few years or so in an attempt to keep the world for himself. I'm here to right his wrongs, but there seem to be lots of those, including children.." The angel sides, melting into the fabric of the couch. It's oddly comfortable.

Next, it was Mark. "So you don't actually know any of us?" He shook his head, he thought that answer would be obvious. People you haven't met, shocker, you don't know them.

"Wait so you have wings and shit?" The Hispanic man suddenly exclaimed, prodding at his backside. "Don't touch there, hey— my wings are extremely sensitive, human." Gabriel swatted the touch away, sighing. He relaxed again, holding one of the pillows close. His consciousness slowly slipped, listening to the rambling of the four teenagers around him.

—
Past this part is just a bit of sexual tension, no sex yet.
—

Mark groaned, what happened, did he end up falling asleep? Gabriel's still here, curled up against his body like their personal body pillow made for cuddling. He sighed, trapped in this awkward position that he would consider cute if he knew them a little better. The TV's volume is barely turned up, just a soft buzz in the background as Gabriel sleeps. He tries to turn it off, but the remote looks like it died while he was sleeping.

He sighed, laying there for a few moments. The shadows in the living room seem a little deeper than before with the gentle illumination of the TV. He sees it off the screen of the television, the face that people have been warned of time and time again. He'd even go as far to say it's his own fault for not getting rid of the stupid thing after the broadcast. He just didn't take it that seriously.

He saw it, and it saw him, staring back at him. Its face held no features, nothing but two dots for the glint of its eyes and a large, wide smile. He shivered, urging Gabriel awake, who didn't move an inch. It approached him, claws scraping tenaciously across his neck, drawing the slightest bits of blood. The red rolled down his neck, barely stinging but still hurting. He couldn't speak, his mouth wouldn't function. He froze up, and his eyes widened. They locked the blood off their dirty claws, and he sat there, frozen. How could he do something when he's just a simple human? Adam would be more useful, but they're not here.

"How sad that he isn't the right Gabriel, huh? Wish you could just kill him, get that sweet revenge?" The being mocked him, mocked his trauma with the being known as Gabriel. The one in his arms looked so familiar, but acted so completely different. He would actually die if they'd managed to manipulate him this well by acting innocent and cute.

The alternate drags its claw down his cheek, barely slicing the skin. Red drips, and they swipe up the liquid with their smoother part. "C'mon, Mark.. I have a surprise for you, I just need you to let me in.."

The creature pressed against his chest, which he assumed was in some attempt to scare him or something like that. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his muscles simultaneously spasming and giving out. They'd touched something within him, something inside he'd never experienced before, both new and terrifying at the same time.

It wasn't a feeling that was all around good, but he wouldn't say it was awful, just new and sensitive. The being sneered and snickered, laughing hysterically. "Oh, you humans never fail to amuse me at all. I should've known no one's touched you there before, because I'm the only one who knows it's there to begin with." It grinned, and then it reached in again. He wanted to explain it as grabbing something within slime.

You reach your hand in, and the slime spreads for your hand. You grab something in the center, and it doesn't really move, but the force is still there. Now, imagine this centerpiece having the sensitivity of a snowflake on Twitter. That's how messed up it has him. He's shivering and shaking, feeling a certain degree of pleasure from the act of them grabbing whatever they were touching. Some sort of core he was unaware of? It's like they grabbed his very soul and fondled it.

He's a panting, shaking mess, tears slipping down his cheeks. They aren't angry or sad tears, just from the sheer overload the sensitivity gave his body. They pulled out again, despite the fact their hand doesn't even visibly go anywhere. It's more like a mental thing they take hold of, and it does questionable things.

The alternate sat nearby on the couch, simply staring and watching. His face feels hot, like he's burning a severe fever suddenly. He feels his blushing cheeks, catching his breath. "Why.. why did you do that..? What did you do...?"

"I just touched a little piece inside of you. I didn't make it physical, but i can if you'd like." It smiles, content with the mess it's made. "No.. no, just.. go away.. I'm not ready to deal with this bullshit, not with Gabriel around." Mark sighs, slumping back into the comfort of his blanket and pillow. The being disappeared, oddly.

—

He tried it the next morning, and nothing happened. He assumed it was some mental thing, like if you believe you can touch it, you can. He even tried it with different people with.. different levels of success. He wonders if people can put up barriers around that.. core thing, so they have different levels of security.

The most annoying part, when he was alone, the creature would periodically just, appear. They scared the shit out of him and he felt like a wounded dog, yet they just wanted to fuck with him. They'd pull against the core, and then they'd disappear again. An odd amount of pleasure came with this, and he didn't question it.

The entity would try to do other things, and he almost questioned if it was just incredibly horny. That's a possibility. He refused on various occasions where it appeared in his bedroom, and then it disappears again.

He can't tell anyone about it, partially because he's scared everyone will just call him insane. He paces back and forth in the living room, the being standing in the corner.

How do I even begin to tell people about you?" Mark sighed, which was followed by a shocked gasp. Pinned down to the couch, the alternate shrugged. "Don't know. Don't want your friends to know you have an alternate boyfriend?"

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, embarrassed. "We aren't even anything like that. You're the one who's stalking me and doing weird shit." Mark muttered, shuffling away slowly.

"That's because I like you! Aren't you so lucky, Mark? I know basically everything about you, even that you snore a night!" Mark quickly pushed them off of him, sitting down on the couch. "You didn't need to know that.. why are you stalking me anyways??"

"Bored, and you're cute." The alternate shrugged, and then vanished.

—
Actual NSFW time wijqhanavwbv
—

He could feel their eyes on him, again. He'd finished up a few games of Valorant, which he was pretty much obsessed with. They were beginning to become more and more weird. They would touch him in odd places other than just the core they mentioned prior. It'd just been his thighs, but then it was other places. Internally, he assumed it was because they learnt everything besides the sexual things by now about him. Truth is, he's a virgin.

His parents still haven't come home from the trip, but he's been given what he needs like money for shopping and delivery. Cesar and the others were out doing some grocery shopping while he opted to 'hold down the fort'. The real reason was that the damn alternate was getting him too riled up to even leave his room.

It's night now, and he can hear the crickets through the small gap he left in his window for ventilation. The house already has pretty good AC, but he just needs some fresh air now.

The alternate approached, and although he could barely hear them, he could just tell. Hands searched up his legs, giving his thighs a comforting squeeze. He sighed, just trying to sleep in peace and this damn alternate wants to fuck.

„Just let me do everything, I'll treat you just right.“

He could hear the grin as they slipped off his cargo shorts, which he just slept in casually because they're comfortable. Next to go was his boxers, which made him shiver in sight discomfort. It's cold, and now he's getting cold. Something slid inside, his eyes widening as it began to move. Fingers? Something else? It felt wet, like covered with lube or saliva.

It moved in and out slowly and gently, earning gracious amounts of moans from him. It feels so embarrassing to him, yet he still rolled his hips back towards the touch. He gasps, followed by a little yelp, spread wide by something large. They weren't lying when they said they'd take care of it.

Their cock is fucking big, he'll say that much, and it somewhat hurts when they slowly slide in and out of him. The spreading from before hardly did anything. He's still laying in his stomach, hugging his pillow like when he was trying to sleep. His ass is up in the air, though, as it made it easier to fuck.

His moans are embarrassing, cock slamming deep inside and into his prostate. He could swear he sounded like a hoe at this point, gripping onto the sheets of his bed. The springs whined in complaint as they got into it, and then they stopped.

It felt wet. They filled him up with something purple and wet, like cum but more alien. It leaks onto the blanket he was curled up in, and he relaxed on the bed with the alternate, who became very cuddly. They laid on top of him, hugging him.