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pearl-the-artist · 2 months

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(You called for me) Gabriel / Reader Oneshot

Ok please be patient with me on this. I spent over 24 hours in a car on a trip to Russia a few days ago and it made me do something I've never dared to before: write a fanfic. On my humble Samsung notes.

If this isn't a total flop I might make more? I dunno? Maybe hop on ao3?

Criticism and feedback is appreciated ok thank youuu have fun

Another restless night, another hour spent lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling above you. The room was shrouded in the comforting night air, more illuminated than usual by the soft glow of the full moon outside.

You look at the clock on your nightstand; precisely midnight. Two hours after your drunken father came home again, letting his pent-up frustrations and anger out on you in a one sided yelling match. Of course, as usual, neither was your mother of any support; only giving you that same disapproving, disdainful glare. You were never really welcome, not even in your own home- your parents biggest mistake lingering around only to weigh them down, and remind them of what they could've had. Or so they've told you, many, many times before. Tonight was no exception.

When the broadcasts first announced the new threat infesting the county, "alternates" they called them, you were, admittedly, both terrified and somewhat relieved. You were never really one to believe in the supernatural, but who knows, your parents were just superstitious enough to maybe fall for their schemes.

The first announcement had been around, what, a year ago now? Not much had really changed admittedly, although the population had begun falling drastically since then.

Your parents had of course used this opportunity to also confiscate your phone, the CRT TV in your room and old little MP3 player gifted to you by a relative, god forbid you let an alternate in to potentially threaten them, your own safety not even really a point for consideration to them.

Living with your parents was already hell, but getting by without your favourite albums and shows? Torture.

So tonight when you lied in bed unable to fall asleep, your mind wandering as usual, it may have wandered a little too far.

You recalled something you overheard your parents talk about. A friend of your dad's, a man of unwavering faith, who had been found dead in his own home a few weeks ago, seemingly in the middle of his usual prayers. Even though his family mentioned having seen an odd, ghostly figure outside their home that night, the doctors seemed to blame the cause of death on a brain hemorrhage.

It made sense, come to think of it. When you first saw the emergency PSA, it explained all kinds of methods to protect yourself from alternate attacks, one of which being avoidance of religion, faith, and philosophy.

So then, the alleged "ghost" that visted that poor man just might've been... Well.

This gave you a bad idea, but you weighed the options available to you.

Either you would die in a similar way as the old man, or... you might just get lucky and bargain with it. Alternatively, nothing happens, and you remain stuck with an unhappy married couple that hates each other as much as they hate you.

It was definitely stupid, but at this point it seemed like you had nothing to lose anyway. You weren't really much of a believer yourself, so you didn't exactly know how to pray, but you gave it your best shot. Sitting up in your bed, hands clasped together with a bowed head and closed eyes, you tried your best to focus.

If there was a god out there, may it hear your pleas. Wordless whispers called for help, begging to be heard, while you did all you could to try to concentrate on any spiritual connections. All the while you knew you may as well be praying to a literal demon.

A few minutes passed as you racked your brain for what to say before you stopped, your hands falling back into your lap.

What the hell were you doing? Yes you hated it here, and you couldn't even run away if you wanted to, but inviting an alternate to your house just like this? It was a death sentence, and not a pretty one, that much was certain.

You shook your head. It probably wouldn't have worked anyway. Right, this was all just some silly superstition, not that different from those "send this to 5 other people or you'll die tonight" chain e-mails. You laughed internally at how silly it was that you even thought this would work to begin with, and, admittedly, felt a brief sense of relief. You decided that you were ready to just go back to sleep, and just as you pulled your blanket up to crawl back underneath it- you almost jumped.

It was a voice, faintly audible outside your window. You didn't even process it until a few seconds after, a barely legible, strained whisper.

"I heard you praying."

You froze. A cold wave shot right to your stomach. Slowly, agonisingly so, you turned around to face your bedroom window.

A tall figure stood outside, its hands clasped together similarly to how you just had a few minutes ago. With long, flowing white robes and silver, wavy locks that reached down to his shoulders, he looked... Ethereal. Not to mention the massive, pure white wings folded neatly behind his back. His head blocked out the full moon, the light creating something almost like a halo around him, making him appear even more angelic.

"Woah."

You couldn't help the little gasp of awe. He seemed to find it amusing, his grin spreading a little too wide for comfort. Admittedly, you almost doubted if he even was an alternate at all. Maybe you'd come out a person of faith yourself, after this.

"Are you... An alternate?"

You whispered hesitantly, quiet enough to try to conceal the trembling in your voice and also not alert your parents sleeping upstairs, though you weren't sure if he actually heard you at all.

He didn't respond for a moment, tempting you to ask again, before that inhuman whisper was heard again.

"You called for me, and now I am here."

Avoiding your question, huh. Suppose he was an elusive sort. You quickly glanced around your room, eyeing the door in particular just in case; you really hoped your parents were asleep.

"May I... Come closer?"

You couldn't even recall the last time you were this polite to someone, though it was your best bet not to piss him off while he was still friendly, if you could even call it that. You had no point of reference, though he wasn't actively trying to harm you, so it was a start.

The angel, his smile unwavering, simply nodded, waving his arm in an invitation to approach.

It took a moment for you to will your body to move from the initial shock, but with slow, careful steps you moved to open the window to properly speak to him, a pleasant cool breeze inviting itself into your room.

"So... What's your name?"

Did alternates have names? Suppose they just took on the name of whoever they were trying to mimic. You leaned onto the window frame, trying to catch a good look at his face; and for the first time in god knows how long you were met with eyes that, albeit a bit creepy and lifeless, looked back into your own with an unfamiliar lack of hostility.

"You may call me Gabriel, child."

Gabriel? That name sounded familiar- Oh! The Saint Gabriel's church at the edge of town. Suppose that made sense, given his angelic appearance, if it wasn't just one morbid coincidence. Your thoughts and scrutinizing stare dragged on for a bit longer than you were aware of, though, as his voice pulled your attention back to him.

"Are you lost, my lamb? I can save you. Let me in. Let me into your mind."

The last bit seemed a bit more... Pushy than the rest, making your stomach feel just a little heavier. You gathered your thoughts anyway, trying to push that feeling aside for now. You did do this for a reason, after all, though now that he was actually here you were starting to second guess things.

Gabriel seemed to take note of your hesitation after a while of you not responding.

"Open your eyes, my lost little one. Look at me. I can grant you anything you wish for. You just need to let me in."

An odd mix of dread and comfort you'd never felt before settled in, and the feeling was almost... Refreshing, in a way. You quickly glanced back up at him, and he was still staring at you, ever so patiently, eerily.

"Uhm... I was just- well, it's probably kind of silly."

No backing out now, not when he was already here. Even if you wanted to, you don't think he'd let you go so easily. As you verbally stumbled over your own thoughts, he simply waited, his unblinking eyes staring into you, gouging out your soul. Or so it felt.

"I just thought... Is it possible for, well... Is there a chance for humans to be able to ally with alternates? Can I join you?"

Surprisingly, that got his smile to falter, if only a little bit. A flicker of emotion you couldn't quite explain showed in his eyes- surprise, perhaps, or consideration.

"What for, my child?"

That uncanny whisper of his never gave away any emotion, monotone and unfeeling, yet not unfriendly. Admittedly, his question made you pause; you hadn't exactly thought of how to explain this to him. You hadn't even expected him to show up at all.

Fidgeting nervously, unsure of whether to tell him the truth or not, you tried to think of what to say. Despite your rationality screaming at you for being an utter moron, you knew you were in too deep at this point.

"I don't think I'm any good to these people at all anymore, I just... don't know what to do anymore. With myself. I have nowhere else to go. And, maybe..."

You weren't sure if you should say it or not, you already let more vulnerability slip than you wanted to. But your spite driven words were quicker than your brain, and man did it feel good to open up for once.

"...maybe for revenge, also."

Gabriel listened to you surprisingly attentively, very interested in your words. At your last statement, he perked up with an almost malicious twist to his grin. Before he could respond, though, you suddenly heard the sound of your parents creaky old bedroom door and footsteps from upstairs. And you could tell by the sound of them that it was your mother. And she was pissed.

For a very panic filled moment you weren't sure what to do, your thoughts racing- instincts called for you to jump into bed and pretend you were asleep like you usually would... but with Gabriel here, you couldn't- and that's when you realized you really only had two real options.

Stay here, and continue living this miserable life, and also deal with the imminent outburst of your mother.

Or go with him, and then... Well, nothing and no one could possibly guarantee what would happen to you then.

"Choose wisely, my dear lamb."

Your dilemma seemed to be rather palpable to the "saviour" as he pulled you out of that mental spiral, and you were rather grateful for it. As much as it made you nauseous with uncertainty and anxiety, you finally snapped out of that paralysis and turned towards the window.

"Please, help me. This is the only favor I'll ever ask of you. I will do anything you want in return, I promise."

You began to plead in an urgent, hissed whisper, practically leaning out of the window, causing him to take a step back.

Desperation and panic shook your words as you glanced back at your bedroom door.

"Get me out of here."

He chuckled, an amused sound mixed with something you couldn't quite explain that made you feel more fuzzy than you'd care to admit.

"Come. Come to me, my child. Step outside."

For the first time tonight hesitation became a foreign concept as you practically leapt out that window. Your bare feet felt the cold gravel beneath, just in time as the door to your room swung open.

The angered yelling of your mother were drowned out by the feeling of suddenly being lifted off the ground, Gabriel taking you up into his arms like your weight was akin to a feather.

He was cold, lifelessly so. And yet the soft silken robes, the way he held you in his arms, and his deceitfully promising whispers were lulling you into a sense of security you hadn't felt in a long, long time.

"A lost little lamb, asking their shepherd for guidance..."

His eerie, yet strangely comforting laugh filled your ears once more over the noise of your mother not yet realizing you weren't in your bed. You're surprised she wasn't hearing him at all. Maybe it was another mind game of his.

"You made the right decision. I knew you would. Such a smart, yet scared little thing you are, are you not?"

You leaned your head against his chest, sighing deeply, beginning to forget what you were ever doubtful about during the start of this whole fiasco. Your weight began to sink into his arms as you relaxed. He held you a little tighter in turn.

"Of course I shall guide you, my child. Come with me; you will be mine. You will be safe."

Just as the furious woman realized to check the opened window, Gabriel vanished as swiftly as he appeared, leaving behind the sight of nothing but an empty garden, peacefully quiet, as if you were never there.

#stole gabriels dialogue from volume 5 hehe #cuz hes so very silly and im obsessed with that claymation part ngl #also im still trying to get a feel for how i even want to write him #I'm metaphorically pacing around the room and curling up into a ball posting this #i get so many ideas i like but im not confident to write let alone put it out into the world to see but fuck it we ball right #cant improve if you never try #archangel gabriel #tmc #the mandela catalogue #the mandela catalog #tmc gabriel #alternate gabriel #the mandela catalogue gabriel #oh and also #authors note hehe #huge thanks to howl-arnon for both giving this a read and giving me some much needed feedback #and also for giving me the confidence boost i very much needed to step out of that comfort zone #wow tags have a character limit. thats crazy.#ok ill shut up now

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badcaninecemetery · 10 days

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[a list of overhaul headcanons that i've been obsessed with + soft x reader imagines]

he's kind of low-energy, so i imagine a lot of his hobbies would be similar.

given his physique, he'd probably enjoy working out, exercise, and/or yoga. he'd listen to documentaries about scientific discoveries while doing the mindless and repetitive movements. he'd intently watch a creative recreation of the discovery of tiktaalik and then forget he'd been cycling for over an hour.

i definitely think he'd be into reading too. typically he reads autobiographical nonfiction, but i'm sure he could be swayed into more literary nonfiction. he'd also read academic/scholarly journals/publications. he'd spend hours reading and reading.

playing strategic/mentally stimulating board/card games would interest him too. it's to keep his wits sharp, and perhaps hone in his poker face more and more. he probably did this a lot when he was younger, but then it became a hobby so he just does it to keep his brain thinking.

he'd also be into things like wine making or custom metal work, something that he can build and create. chemistry is something he really would enjoy, and there are endless possibilities there. he probably brewed beer and things like that when he was younger to earn pocket money and get himself further out there, but it stuck around too.

along those lines, he spends a lot of his time studying and working on his technical skills. he has many things he has to practice and learn, and i don't think his hunger for knowledge is satiable. he'd dedicate time for learning languages that might help him one day. science and math become some of his favorite things to do to pass the time—it's like doing crossword puzzles to him.

when he was really little, i think he probably tinkered with model kits. he's a little too shy to show those off though, but they're still hidden away in a closet just in case he ever wants to attempt them once more.

—

imagine kai tells you that he has a surprise for you, so he leads you into the living room and reveals with a gesture a board game. his eyes are crinkled around the edges, so you know there's a smile underneath that mask of his. you'd play with him, only for him to obliterate you every. single. time. it's typically chess because he teases you that it's your skill level—and you should be glad he didn't pull out the checkers board (or worse, go fish).

imagine watching him fiddle around with experiments. he shows you the elephant toothpaste one and you both would watch in horror whenever it starts exploding out more than it was supposed to. whenever you ask what happened, kai admits that perhaps he shouldn't have been focusing on your reactions as much. but whenever he's not doing anything in particular for you (and he totally doesn't do those things to impress you), the two of you just parallel play in the same room. he's busy, writing notes down in that doctor's scrawl of his and staring down intently through his bulky jewelers loupes; while you're relaxing on the other side of the room, perhaps doing something quiet and easy like drawing, or knitting, or writing, or researching.

imagine soft jazz in the background during these things. kai slowly turns to face you with a hard stare whenever you start playing your mix of sad jazz. he shakes his head softly, telling you he's not going to examine the medicinal samples in his petri dishes to billie holiday's "the man i love" (which makes him shift from foot to foot awkwardly because of the lyrics). a sly grin starts to stretch across your face as you switch it to old german jazz (the kind that plays in those 1930s men's fashion instagram reels), and you start doing a little dance towards him, shaking your hips and shimmying. kai's eyes are wide, but he's unable to not succumb whenever you lightly grasp his hands and loosely swing his arms back and forth (he's imploding internally).

imagine making him a rap, rock rap, and/or nu metal playlist. it's sometimes heavy and emotional or bitter, and sometimes it's nice for him to lean back and grimace at the ceiling whenever he listens to the words. so you hook up your phone to a speaker, then hit shuffle. his head is leaned against the back of the couch, eyes closed while the playlist cycles through. one second cypress hill is playing, the next it's eminem's fack. kai's face contorts into dissatisfaction before his eyes open and he pointedly looks at you, but you just snicker and say it's like a game of russian roulette. i wonder just how many times this song is hidden in this playlist? kai just sighs in acceptance.

imagine kai gushing to you (in a definitely calm and composed manner) about some or the nonfiction/journals he reads, or documentaries he's watched. sometimes he'll throw a word out there that you don't know, but he's very willing to explain what it means. he's brief and precise whenever he elaborates the information, and he'll offer to let you read/watch the materials too. you'd definitely sit down and read/watch it (even if it doesn't particularly interest you, but you know kai enjoys it).

imagine the two of you getting into stuff to do together like reading theory (you wouldn't stop jokingly spamming links to the communist manifesto and industrial society and its future at three a.m. in the morning—but then you both dipped in émile durkheim and kai was immediately enthralled). or doing something like learning animal taxonomy (you wouldn't stop calling the centipedes little lovers). or something simple like drinking coffee (or whatever you'd prefer at that moment) in public and people watching.

so many little things to pass the time, just brief smiles and witty glances behind coffee steam.

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