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pearl-the-artist · 6 months ago

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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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dykedvonte · 3 months ago

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I'm probably going to post about this on the MW subreddit, but I still find it pretty hilarious that most fans assume the "struggles" Jimbalaya was dealing with back on Earth were related to criminal acts (usually in order to demonize Curly) meanwhile most of the pieces of clues I've gathered from the HFIM dlc and the QnAs we got about the characters' lives have lead me to believe Jimbalaya's struggles were about poverty.

In the HFIM dlc we're pretty clearly playing a fish version of Jimbalaya, and the whole game is about how a capitalistic system ruins people (fish) and those that climb up help perpetuate the system and those that go down just get eaten. So it's pretty interesting to me that Jimbalaya fish even after consuming other fish and items... keeps going down.

But it was the third QnA that sealed it for me. Curly's hobbies are around a lot of friends and family that he could join interesting things. And of course play snow sports in Winter. Winter snow sports... which let's be honest is a pretty expensive hobby to have. Meanwhile, Jimbalaya can't afford any hobbies other than joining one with Curly.

I think this kinda just adds more fuel for Jimbalaya to both envy yet aspire to be like Curly.

I dunno, it's just fascinating to me watching so many fans claim the "struggles" were so obviously to do with crime when most of the current evidence I noticed seems to point towards money related issues.

-🌟 Anon

I think both are valid and valuable interpretations that’s the MW fandom makes but I think the major problem with it is the severity in which they make Jimmy out to be every factor wrong with men in society.

Like I think it’s interesting to use the idea he has some record, misdemeanors/petty stuff, that has complied to make his life more difficult. It’s all his own doing for his entitlement and general behavior but it can also be used to comment on Capitalism banking on desperation and envy. A lot of his actions are desperate because he knows his crimes on the Tulpar will make it virtually to climb any ladder, anywhere anymore due to their weight. Like in the end the problem is undeniably how the proverbial rat race creates environments that fosters Jimmy’s and creates ineffective systems like Curly represents.

Curly on the other hand benefits from the corporate part of it with his financial freedom, stability and prestige but he too is socially stagnant, deeply unhappy in the identities placed on to him and unrecognizable as anything other than a cog in the machine. I think this goes in tandem with the other members too as the identities placed onto them in the scenario all represent stages in capitalism and class discrepancies: Anya represents largely marginalized identities (particularly women in blue collar fields/harassment) and how they ultimately have to fend for themselves. Daisuke a sort of perception of both a class between Curly and the rest, protected no matter the effects of the establishment due to his home life but at the same time he is the metaphorical future gen, things stripped from him as the older generations squabble amongst themselves in private conversations leaving him unequipped. Then there’s Swansea being sort of those who have lived through it, knowing how it ends but ultimately still lack the skills, resources and want to change it, letting it cycle.

The entire thing with Jimmy circles back to the fandom ultimately wanting easy solutions to the events in the games, a face to blame and a weird black and white thinking to issues that are dangerous to view that way.

#an off tangent that is semi related is the idea of the crash happened Curly deserved some punishment I see in the fandom and while I agree #he needs to reflect and possibly build back the trust Anya lost in him the idea completely ignores the struggles he faced and the abuse he #faced and it’s like again the entire absolving the abuse of an imperfect victim as a factor in their behavior #but back to the ask the game tackles so many things and tries to not make it one note or stereotypical but conversations lead to that cuz #too many people are unwilling to admit how subjective good choices are and how environment affects places a big part in how we deal with #situations like everyone says what they will do and would but no one sits and thinks of the way it would be in the situation with the #dynamics at play and can’t see the other lenses or metaphors #mouthwashing #🌟 anon #ask #mouthwashing game #curly mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #also if I get asks about Jimmy can you just use his name like a big part of why I think people can’t properly #engage in this game is the decentering of Jimmy as the main character and main perpetrator like he is the ultimate reason everything gets so #bad and no one wants to talk about him outside of we know he’s bad already like it’s immature and why guys can get away with it as we focus #on the men that don’t stop them and not stopping the men that do or their mentalities past a surface level amount of disdain #like say his name show his face don’t let him slip through the cracks like the game tries to show you he did #his whole mode of operation is in the dark and out of sight and it’s still perpetuating that because you refuse to show him #at least on my in box I’ll talk about him and analyze him and I would prefer if we didn’t speak about him like a forbidden word cause that’s #how the assault of victims gets looked or glossed over when you don’t say what it is or who did in all seriousness

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