Chapter Text
If you asked Paul’s average coworker what he’s like, they’d likely respond, “Who?”. Most people merely knew him as “that tall guy who likes black coffee and doesn’t like musicals”. Even for the people who considered themselves Paul’s friends don’t have much to say. Bill Woodward would say, “He’s a… great babysitter… He can be a bit rude at times, though.” Ted Spankoffski would say, “Paul? Yeah, he’s my best friend. Bit of a fucking dweeb but what can ya do?” Charlotte Sweetly would say, “Paul’s real nice, he’s just a little… bland.”
All those descriptions begin and end there. He was barely a blip on anyone’s radar, much less someone significant enough to remember. Paul himself was quite fine with this, however. Honestly, he loved being forgettable, blending into the background of the panel. After all, if all anyone sees when they look at him is a boring surface, no one will think there’s something deeper, no one will try to look deeper. The last thing he needs is someone trying to look deeper.
Paul’s heels clicked against the asphalt sidewalk rhythmically. His fingers wrapped tight around a cup of coffee that sloshed around, spilling out the top a little. He held it up to his lips every now and then, taking quaint and curt sips. Each and every molecule was readable by his tongue, the vast stories each drop held translated in his head. He could taste the tree the beans came from, the earth the tree grew from, the hands of the workers who harvested the beans and touched the tree.
It was almost overwhelming but in a good way, like a too tight hug from someone who loves you. A smirk placed itself on his face as he continued his walking down the street. He took the very familiar turns that led to his apartment and looked around as he did so. Neon lights shined all around him, leaving the roads awash in colored lights. They all advertised various businesses that Paul had no plans on going to unless he really, really had to.
Other people walked past though they were few and far between. He had to work rather late tonight, later than he’d want to. By now, the waning moon glowed dimly in the sky, practically unnoticeable. To the normal human eye, you would be unable to see the bright, burning stars that sat next to the moon past these noisy neon lights, but Paul was not normal, much less human.
He could see past it all, view a small part of the galaxy, the nebulae and planets and the tiny meteors, even the normally imperceptible black holes, from his vantage point on planet Earth. When he was young, in a time now immemorial, he once thought that the galaxy was the most beautiful thing. The pure indifference and mightiness of the natural universe frightened and intrigued him in the most wonderful manner. It once made the star nursery that is his heart bloom in intrigue and excitement. Now, though, something very different took that spot but it held a greater reverence.
The feeling of his phone vibrating wildly interrupted his thoughts. He shot his hand into his back pocket and pulled it out. White font was stark against the natural black background. It read, “Bill W.” Paul tapped the answer call button and placed the cold glass against his face. “Hello.” He said automatically as he stared up at the tall apartment building he calls home for now.
“Hey, Paul.” Bill’s voice rang out from Paul’s phone. “I’m not gonna be coming into work tomorrow but I have to turn in some reports. Do you think you could do that for me?”
“Sure thing, Bill.” He replied, sounding not quite ecstatic nor upset but instead merely ok. Classic Paul . Bill thought. “Thanks, Paul, I owe you one.”
Paul chose to not remind him of how many he’s said that. If he were keeping a tally, the number would be around 216 times. “Don’t worry about it.” Paul replied dismissively. “Say hi to Alice for me.”
There was a surprised pause on Bill’s end for a moment. “How’d you know-?”
“I babysat her for years, I wouldn’t just forget her birthday.”
Bill let out a chuckle. “Wow, that mind of yours is such a steel trap. I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached.”
Paul shrugged, even though Bill couldn’t see it. “Eh, it’s just noticing patterns. You get good at it after a while.” And Paul has been around for quite a while. “That all?” He asked.
“Yeah,” Bill answered. “See you around. Bye.”
“Bye.” Paul replied and hung up, stuffing the phone back into his pocket.
He blinked and realized that his legs carried him to his front door. Paul finished his drink as he opened the door, stepping into his, admittedly, very simple living space. Very few, if any, pictures or paintings hung on the beige walls. The shelves were bare except for a few books that he pretended he would get around to reading. The living room was directly connected to the chronically unused kitchen on its left. His couch was made of barely used brown leather that currently sagged under the weight of a man sitting upon it.
His black hair was slicked back, eyes a sinister glowing green. His face was creased in an ominous grin and his sharp, fang like teeth poked out. Currently, he wore an outfit that was 90 percent denim and a denim-colored button up that had the top two buttons unsecured.
The second that man registered in Paul’s unending cosmos of a mind, his face burst out in a bright smile. He dashed across the room, placing his empty cup on the coffee table, and came to a stop not far from the couch. Paul stretched out his arms expectantly. “Wilbur!” He beamed happily.
Wilbur shot to his feet and moved closer, ignoring Paul’s offer of a hug. He grabbed the back of Paul’s head, sending tufts of his soft, brown hair through their fingers, and pulled him closer to his face. Paul leaned into the motion, closing the gap between the two. Their lips pressed together, velvety skin against skin. Paul wrapped his arms around Wilbur’s waist, pulling their torso against his, as Wilbur deepened the kiss. Their mouths remained locked as Paul felt his own teeth morph into their proper fangs, no longer bothering to hide.
While they embraced each other, the lights in the room followed the whim of their excitement, turning themselves on. It brought Paul out of the moment and he pulled himself away in surprise. “Forgot to turn the lights on again.” He muttered to himself, staring up at the ceiling fan. Wilbur grabbed Paul’s arm and sat down on the couch again, pulling Paul down with them.
Paul allowed him with a pleased smile, creaking the leather as he sat down. Wilbur let go of Paul, smirking hungrily at him, and started laying on his back. “How long’s it been?” He asked as Paul placed himself on Wilbur’s chest. “104 years, 8 months, 34 weeks, and 254 days.” He replied contentedly, nuzzling his face in the crook of Wilbur’s neck. “I’ve been counting.”
Wilbur let out a whistle, a C sharp, Paul noted, with an impressed eyebrow raise. “And you’ve had to spend that long on Earth? I would’ve killed ‘em years ago.” Paul rolled his eyes and groaned. “Tell me about it. These things are so fucking annoying.” He raised his hand to Wilbur’s face and traced his thumb along their jaw repeatedly.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’ve made some good stuff.” Wilbur started running their hand through Paul’s hair as he went on. “Coffee? That’s some good shit. But it’s just the constant whining and complaining and, ugh, the praying, don’t even get me started on the praying. It’s like gnats up here, all the time.” He pulled his hand away from Wilbur and tapped a finger against his head. He put it back as he rolled his eyes again.
“I’d say it’s like living in an anthill but at least ants have some sense of order.” His voice oozed raw disgust, face twitching as a sneer attempted to fight away the smile Wilbur put upon it. With a slight shake of his head, he shoved those feelings away and allowed the smile back. “I can’t wait for Him to get rid of all this chaos.” He said wistfully, pressing his face against Wilbur’s neck.
Wilbur let out a coy purr and leaned in close to Paul’s ear, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re spendin’ all this bedroom talk for just the couch.” Paul smirked at him and elegantly rolled off the couch, perfectly landing on his feet. He bowed deeply and extended his hand out. “Well then, let’s change that, my dear.” A deep chuckle leapt from Wilbur’s throat as they grasped Paul’s hand. The two made their way to Paul’s bedroom, deeply excited.
In the deep, twinkling abyss of space, the being that would one day name themself Paul beat their two brilliant white wings against the dancing particles, pushing them aside to propel themself forward. Their current form was one that could later be considered human-like, although many argue that humans are angel-like. Their short hair floated about with no rhyme or reason as they dashed as fast they could. Two arms stuck to their side and they had six eyes on their face, a set in the normal spot as well as a set on their forehead and a set on their cheeks. They were the size of several large stars. In the angel world, they were rather plain and simple, nothing too special.
They were dimly aware of the voice ringing out inside their head. “Beloved!” She cried out from universes away in a language the human mind could barely begin to understand. “You want to destroy that meteor, don’t you?”
“Yes.” They responded simply with an assured head nod.
“But, it is dangerous to attempt such a thing. It could spell your doom.”
“And so I must spell the rest of existance’s doom? Leave all of creation to that dark God’s will and destroy their inherent beauty?” They shot back, still dashing closer to their demise by the second. “The chaos of life is what makes it so beautiful and if that means my destruction, so be it.”
They felt the echo of her pain at their words, at her understanding of them, and they’re sure a few solar systems did as well. After a moment of pure quiet, she responded. “I have known you for millions of years and I wish we had a million more. No matter what happens, I will always love you.” Sad is too small a word to describe her pain in this moment. There is not a single word in any language that could describe it.
“I love you too.” They replied, oceans forming in their six eyes. Their connection cut off as the bright blue glowing rock came into view. They slowed down and stared at it thoughtfully. It wasn’t large, around the size of their palm and a deeply melancholic smile bloomed on their face. Such a small thing that will destroy life as we know it.
They were the only angel nearby, the only one able to react fast enough to prevent the meteor from landing anywhere. With deep reluctance, they raised their hand and grabbed the rock. The second they did, they felt the cold hands of death, a feeling typically completely foreign to them. They ignored this horrible feeling and crushed the rock into dust in their hand. A strange ooze spilled from the rock, practically a drop compared to the gigantic size of them, but it was potent and it was enough.
The ooze seeped in their skin, becoming one with them. Their entire being went numb, slowly becoming nothing, jaw dangling from the strange sensation. Lines that glew a luminescent blue spread from his hand, creating veins they had never had before. As the lines spread, they felt that cold from before follow suit. They had never experienced cold before. They didn’t like it.
Suddenly, their head screamed in agony and their mouth did as well, rattling nearby solar systems to their cores. Their wings flared up as well, rotting the once pure white into a pitch black with a few feathers that shined blue. Inside their mouth, their commonly dull teeth turned razor sharp, making their once comfortable smile intimidating. They were unaware of the stars slowly drifting farther and farther from view, becoming more and more distant.
Their body was shivering once they appeared in the inky black Abyss. Everything was nothing and nothing was everything, that was the first thing they noticed. Inside their mind, they felt something . What exactly it was was beyond even their understanding but they knew enough. It was the Dark God of Music and Order, Destroyer Of Wills, The Singular Voice, slowly destroying their will.
No, no, no, no . They tried to fight, gripping their head in their hands. They hoped they would’ve been destroyed by the stone, that their immortal form would melt away and they’d become one with time and space. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. They screamed and screamed and screamed for help but now there was nothing left to feel it and certainly no one left to hear it. Inside their head, they tried to grasp tight onto their individual memories. Being birthed from the aether, creating worlds, laying eyes upon their beloved for the first time.
This strange sound started filling their mind, taking up the empty space. The stress and panic melted away from their face as they listened to it, memories slowly becoming distant and forgotten. It was gentle and comforting yet firm and controlling, like a parent. A hug from a loved one that showed how much they cared. Tender kisses to show off affection. Giving a gift that you know they’ve wanted for a long time. Somehow, this sound managed to convey all the feelings these moments created even though they’ve never experienced them.
Their six eyes filled with blue light as a content smile etched itself on their face. It was beautiful. Anytime before in their life when they thought they were happy paled in comparison to how this sound made them feel. This was the most wondrous thing anyone had ever created. Others should hear this, everyone should hear this .
“ If only. ” A voice rang out in their head and they instantly knew who it was. It was their voice, as well as countless others, all talking in perfect harmony. “ You robbed everyone of this pleasure. ” The angel suddenly felt very, very disgusted with themself. Why would they ever want to do that? “I’m so sorry.” They said, voice shaking in genuine heartbreak.
“ I know. ” They started feeling something soft underneath their bare feet and they felt it moving them elsewhere. The sensation under foot was pleasant, to say the least. Never before in their life had they felt a blanket but when they arrived on earth, they realized that even the most luxurious cloth would envy this plush. They laid down upon the satisfying texture, trying to touch as much of their body on it as possible.
In a moment, they came into the sight of a gigantic stone mask, even from their perspective, dwarfing them. It was made up of the rubble of countless destroyed planets, all throbbing and writhing in time to the sound playing in the angel’s head. A strange spark of feeling burst in the angel’s mind. They knew this mask, the same way you know your own limb. “ Hmm, ” The mask hummed deafeningly, making the angel wince in pain before quickly deciding to focus on the sound instead. Once they did that, the pain vanished.
“ So, you are all I have, little puppet? ” He said, mostly to Himself. They hummed contentedly as they rubbed a cheek on the plush under them. “ I suppose this will have to do. What is your name, little puppet? ” He asked. Their brows furrowed in confusion and they lifted themself up, sitting down with their legs splayed out.
They had a name, that much they knew. It was written in the stars when they were born, a fundamental part of the code of reality. To take it away, the edges of time and space could begin to crumble, fall into itself. It was a part of who they were since forever but in this exact moment, they couldn’t remember it. They thought and thought and thought but there was nothing to think about besides the wonderful sound.
Perhaps the answer lies there . They listened closer to the sound, trying to find any sense of a clue. Deep down, almost hiding, they began to hear whispers. Secrets that even celestial beings don’t know being shared between fundamental forces of nature and they got to hear it all. As they listened closer, something clicked in their mind. Oh, of course, they know their name.
They didn’t have a name in the classic sense, they didn’t matter enough to have their own name. All they are is an extension of their Master. The confusion vanished from their face as they answered, sure of themself. “Pokotho.” Just the word itself sounded perfectly right. Yes, that has been his name since the dawn of time, even if he didn’t know it.
All of the endless voices that the mask spoke with erupted into laughter and celebration. The angel felt that same joy parrot in his mind and he joined in, harmonizing with the sound perfectly. His wings flapped happily behind him, shooting him up into the air, and away from his God’s hand. “ Correct. ” He said as the angel floated in the abyss, staring lovingly at his God’s visage.
Paul and Wilbur’s clothes were discarded upon the floor of Paul’s bedroom as the two fallen angels cuddled underneath the sheets. They partially disposed of their human disguises, Paul showing off the vein-like glittering lines that cover his body and patches of Wilbur’s skin were covered in green scales, dotting his cheeks faintly and trailing down the sides of his neck. Wilbur ran his hand along Paul’s exposed arm as Paul pressed his back against Wilbur's chest, staring at the wall. While he caressed Paul’s arm, Wilbur hungrily kissed the back of his neck, grazing their teeth on his skin, creating streaks of fading blue with each bite.
Paul grinned at the slightly stinging sensation as a question blossomed in his mind. “Not that I’m complaining but why’re you here anyways?”
Wilbur briefly paused and leaned in close to Paul’s ear, whispering. “There’s a special human here I’m supposed to help see the light.” They continued kissing Paul, making him shudder with excitement. His veins shimmered brighter, offering the only light in the room.
“A new prophet? It’s been a while.”
He paused again. “I’m supposed to be talkin’ to her right now but I just had to see ya.” Wilbur pulled his hand away from Paul’s arm and moved it to right under his chin. He rubbed his finger affectionately under his head and Paul let out a pleased hum. “How much longer are ya gonna hafta be down here?”
Paul sighed. “I dunno. Shouldn’t be much longer. I should be done in just a few more months.” An edge of exhilaration sneaked its way into his voice. For the past very, very, very long time, Paul has forcibly been given the role of the meteor he once destroyed. Now, he was forced to go from planet to planet, bringing their Apotheosis and spreading the singular voice. Typically, it was very straightforward. Go there, make a few members of the dominant species consume his “blood”, and wait. Their mind will melt away and become one with His.
Annoyingly, Earth seemed to house a surplus angel population, making his job here take frustratingly long. He’s managed to throw them off his trail by hiding out in a small and, on the surface, normal town but for some reason, he just hasn’t been able to take root here. He's tried many times to figure out why but no such luck. If it were up to him, he’d write this whole planet off and just move to the next one but, alas, nothing is ever his choice.
Paul felt Wilbur nuzzle their face into Paul’s hair and leaned into the touch. Well, some things are his choice. His mind wandered over to Wilbur and how they met, how the two instantly understood each other, how they never wanted to be apart. They didn’t have to but the two allowed sleep to claim their bodies, drifting off into nothingness together.