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The Eternal Fall
folder
Supernatural › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
4,746
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Supernatural › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
9
Views:
4,746
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Supernatural and i'm not receiving any profit from writing this fandom
The Eternal Fall
Note: This story is for those who wish to read an indepth fanfiction. This fanfic has plot and although their will be plenty of sexual acitivity in later chapters the first couple of chapters will have minor if no intimate scenes. For those that wish to just read the Adult chapters i will state those chapters as and when i write them. Thankyou =^-^=.
Btw although this clearly states the OC changes into a female this fic is purely Yaoi.
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He had fallen from the sky, but when he moved slightly he felt no broken bones or blood seeping from his flesh. The ground felt soft - too soft for it to be earth and the smell around him was not pleasant like the scent of grass and trees. He tried to sit up but couldn’t just now as tiredness took over and he rubbed his eyes lazily. There was something spinning above him that made an annoying buzzing noise and shook slightly in its ferocity to keep spinning but doing very little to keep humidity at bay. Finally he sat up, looking around in hidden dismay at where his actions had led him and how lost he now felt.
The room itself was small, beige, and sepia even the air seemed to be coloured a dull brown. He heard flies but didn’t know where from, didn’t even want to know because the smell gave a clear idea. The flimsy blinds kept out the harsh light of the day but made thin slivers of it stripe the room. He heard people shouting from behind the door to the room, someone moaning about a toilet and another telling them to shut up, a baby crying and strangely classical music playing from upstairs.
He swung his feet over the edge of the stained bed and felt the wooden floor beneath creak, he looked down at his rather small feet and frowned, “Not how I remember them…” he muttered then gasped at the pitch. Like a shot he ran to the bathroom and looked into the grubby mirror, holding the edges of it tightly as if it had betrayed him. His eyes were not his own, still pitch black but with dark pencil circles around them and his lips painted to. His hair was still black put running down his back in long tendrils, slightly tangled as if it was trying to irritate him. His frame had become smaller and shorter and although some musculature was still there most of it was hidden by sensuous curves. He hit his head against the mirror and looked at his hands; ‘so much smaller’ he thought and let the long black nails rake through his hair, “my humiliation still follows me through my punishment”.
What chilled him more was the scar just below his right eye, almost like a tattoo but engraved to deeply into the skin and faded. It appeared to be a reverse crucifix and this only made him all the more panicked as this was no longer a bad dream. He had fallen from heaven and was to remain here, the reverse crucifix a sign of his fall and a warning that he could still fall further. At this present moment in time he’d fallen into a young girl’s body, unbeknownst to her – right now she could be sleeping or dead. This body had not been created for him, the all shining one was not that forgiving and this child must have deserved to have had him thrown into her – this made him worry a tad.
He walked back into the bedroom, subconsciously trying not to move his hands anywhere near his chest and fell on the bed. He avoided the need to bury his face, the stains on the bed sheets warning enough that it would be best avoided, the voices still shouted, shrieked and blazed outside and he felt so alien to it. A lump in his pocket suddenly jabbed him in the hip as he shifted and he lay onto his back with a groan, he took it out of his pocket and looked at it, it was leather wallet similar to the material of the trousers he wore and had a clasp at the front and a chain connecting it to the belt he wore. He looked at the hangman design on the front in worry before unclasping it, there was some coins and paper notes in the main part and some cards slotted into it. One he noticed had a photo on it and he took it out curiously, it was him – or rather her “Faye Sloane” he mumbled, it was a student identity card and by the date of birth he was nineteen, he groaned miserably.
A knock on the door suddenly jumped him to his senses, and he lay there froze like a startled cat before another knock came,
“Lady?” A mans voice grumbled loudly, he sat up and cleared his throat,
“Eer… yes?” he replied, not recognising the voice that passed his lips,
“Ya booked the room till 10, its 11.30 now lady would ya mind clearing out for the cleaners?!” The door yelled back none to kindly,
“Yes?” he replied again slightly confused, a snort came from the door,
“I’ll give ya 10 minutes, if you and that guy ain’t out by then the cleaners are coming in either way” the man snorted again and walked away from the door not waiting for a reply. He blinked, ‘guy?’ he looked about the room seeing some men’s clothes strewn about the floor that he hadn’t noticed previously and a long lump underneath the sheets of the bed, he blinked again cautiously peeling away the thick covers to reveal the face of a man, dark skinned and apparently sleeping ‘oh this is going to be so awkward’ he thought. He slowly shook the mans shoulder,
“Um… hey we’ve got to go now” he waited but there was no reply, shaking a bit harder he began worrying at the lack of reaction. He leaned in closer to check for signs of breathing but was repelled by a strong smell of blood. He fell back, frozen on the spot staring at the still unmoving man before him. He moved forward again warily and moved the covers back further starting to see the origin of the metallic smell. Deep gashes had been made into the mans skin which resembled an insignia of sorts, his stomach sank when he recognised them, black magic symbols used to force the soul out of its body and… well to do with as however the captor wants.
“This is what they have given me?!” he yelled, covering the body back up and forcing back his rage, “I’ m trapped inside a witch!”
“Lady?!” the man yelling from behind the door jumped him out of his hysteria, ‘oh hell!’ he stared franticly at the body underneath the sheets, “Times up lady, unlock the door and let the cleaners in”. He looked around quickly to see if anything looked like his,
“Just a sec” he shouted back before picking up a satchel bag and what appeared to be biker boots. He unlocked the door; with little experience of unlocking doors it proved to be troublesome. He cracked the door open slightly and looked up to see a tall overweight man staring down at him somewhat annoyed,
“For the last time, out!” the guy growled, he smiled nervously and slid out of the door closing it behind him,
“Well thank you, bye!” he rushed passed the large man and the cleaners beside him and down the corridor, confusingly knowing where he was going. It was only when he exited the motel entrance that he heard a shriek from inside, they had found the body. He looked about franticly at the small amount of cars in the car park and eyes a black Jaguar that he immediately knew was his. He slid into the driver’s seat and dug a set of heavily key chained keys out of his bag. He flipped through the keys and found the right one, jamming it into the ignition he started the car and with speed headed out of the motel car park.
When the motel was far in the distance, just a speck on the horizon he began to relax his mind to flustered to reason with how he could drive when he hadn’t been in a car in his entire life. The road was bordered by forest and there were no signs to tell him where he was headed, this was his punishment, he reasoned. He was lost in a place that was so different to his home; he was lost in a different gender and worse, dark magic was what this body had practised before he entered it. Something instinctively told him he shouldn’t stop, not on such an open stretch of road; he’d have to find a place to stay even if it was as bad as the previous one. He groaned as rain began falling, he knew that no prayer or wish would save him from this – he had gone to far this time and all that could save him were now ignoring him.
Btw although this clearly states the OC changes into a female this fic is purely Yaoi.
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He had fallen from the sky, but when he moved slightly he felt no broken bones or blood seeping from his flesh. The ground felt soft - too soft for it to be earth and the smell around him was not pleasant like the scent of grass and trees. He tried to sit up but couldn’t just now as tiredness took over and he rubbed his eyes lazily. There was something spinning above him that made an annoying buzzing noise and shook slightly in its ferocity to keep spinning but doing very little to keep humidity at bay. Finally he sat up, looking around in hidden dismay at where his actions had led him and how lost he now felt.
The room itself was small, beige, and sepia even the air seemed to be coloured a dull brown. He heard flies but didn’t know where from, didn’t even want to know because the smell gave a clear idea. The flimsy blinds kept out the harsh light of the day but made thin slivers of it stripe the room. He heard people shouting from behind the door to the room, someone moaning about a toilet and another telling them to shut up, a baby crying and strangely classical music playing from upstairs.
He swung his feet over the edge of the stained bed and felt the wooden floor beneath creak, he looked down at his rather small feet and frowned, “Not how I remember them…” he muttered then gasped at the pitch. Like a shot he ran to the bathroom and looked into the grubby mirror, holding the edges of it tightly as if it had betrayed him. His eyes were not his own, still pitch black but with dark pencil circles around them and his lips painted to. His hair was still black put running down his back in long tendrils, slightly tangled as if it was trying to irritate him. His frame had become smaller and shorter and although some musculature was still there most of it was hidden by sensuous curves. He hit his head against the mirror and looked at his hands; ‘so much smaller’ he thought and let the long black nails rake through his hair, “my humiliation still follows me through my punishment”.
What chilled him more was the scar just below his right eye, almost like a tattoo but engraved to deeply into the skin and faded. It appeared to be a reverse crucifix and this only made him all the more panicked as this was no longer a bad dream. He had fallen from heaven and was to remain here, the reverse crucifix a sign of his fall and a warning that he could still fall further. At this present moment in time he’d fallen into a young girl’s body, unbeknownst to her – right now she could be sleeping or dead. This body had not been created for him, the all shining one was not that forgiving and this child must have deserved to have had him thrown into her – this made him worry a tad.
He walked back into the bedroom, subconsciously trying not to move his hands anywhere near his chest and fell on the bed. He avoided the need to bury his face, the stains on the bed sheets warning enough that it would be best avoided, the voices still shouted, shrieked and blazed outside and he felt so alien to it. A lump in his pocket suddenly jabbed him in the hip as he shifted and he lay onto his back with a groan, he took it out of his pocket and looked at it, it was leather wallet similar to the material of the trousers he wore and had a clasp at the front and a chain connecting it to the belt he wore. He looked at the hangman design on the front in worry before unclasping it, there was some coins and paper notes in the main part and some cards slotted into it. One he noticed had a photo on it and he took it out curiously, it was him – or rather her “Faye Sloane” he mumbled, it was a student identity card and by the date of birth he was nineteen, he groaned miserably.
A knock on the door suddenly jumped him to his senses, and he lay there froze like a startled cat before another knock came,
“Lady?” A mans voice grumbled loudly, he sat up and cleared his throat,
“Eer… yes?” he replied, not recognising the voice that passed his lips,
“Ya booked the room till 10, its 11.30 now lady would ya mind clearing out for the cleaners?!” The door yelled back none to kindly,
“Yes?” he replied again slightly confused, a snort came from the door,
“I’ll give ya 10 minutes, if you and that guy ain’t out by then the cleaners are coming in either way” the man snorted again and walked away from the door not waiting for a reply. He blinked, ‘guy?’ he looked about the room seeing some men’s clothes strewn about the floor that he hadn’t noticed previously and a long lump underneath the sheets of the bed, he blinked again cautiously peeling away the thick covers to reveal the face of a man, dark skinned and apparently sleeping ‘oh this is going to be so awkward’ he thought. He slowly shook the mans shoulder,
“Um… hey we’ve got to go now” he waited but there was no reply, shaking a bit harder he began worrying at the lack of reaction. He leaned in closer to check for signs of breathing but was repelled by a strong smell of blood. He fell back, frozen on the spot staring at the still unmoving man before him. He moved forward again warily and moved the covers back further starting to see the origin of the metallic smell. Deep gashes had been made into the mans skin which resembled an insignia of sorts, his stomach sank when he recognised them, black magic symbols used to force the soul out of its body and… well to do with as however the captor wants.
“This is what they have given me?!” he yelled, covering the body back up and forcing back his rage, “I’ m trapped inside a witch!”
“Lady?!” the man yelling from behind the door jumped him out of his hysteria, ‘oh hell!’ he stared franticly at the body underneath the sheets, “Times up lady, unlock the door and let the cleaners in”. He looked around quickly to see if anything looked like his,
“Just a sec” he shouted back before picking up a satchel bag and what appeared to be biker boots. He unlocked the door; with little experience of unlocking doors it proved to be troublesome. He cracked the door open slightly and looked up to see a tall overweight man staring down at him somewhat annoyed,
“For the last time, out!” the guy growled, he smiled nervously and slid out of the door closing it behind him,
“Well thank you, bye!” he rushed passed the large man and the cleaners beside him and down the corridor, confusingly knowing where he was going. It was only when he exited the motel entrance that he heard a shriek from inside, they had found the body. He looked about franticly at the small amount of cars in the car park and eyes a black Jaguar that he immediately knew was his. He slid into the driver’s seat and dug a set of heavily key chained keys out of his bag. He flipped through the keys and found the right one, jamming it into the ignition he started the car and with speed headed out of the motel car park.
When the motel was far in the distance, just a speck on the horizon he began to relax his mind to flustered to reason with how he could drive when he hadn’t been in a car in his entire life. The road was bordered by forest and there were no signs to tell him where he was headed, this was his punishment, he reasoned. He was lost in a place that was so different to his home; he was lost in a different gender and worse, dark magic was what this body had practised before he entered it. Something instinctively told him he shouldn’t stop, not on such an open stretch of road; he’d have to find a place to stay even if it was as bad as the previous one. He groaned as rain began falling, he knew that no prayer or wish would save him from this – he had gone to far this time and all that could save him were now ignoring him.