Original A/N:
I'M ALIVEEEE i'm still working on TYBTM and other stuff too don't worry but have a oneshot i spent all day writing 😁

DISCLAIMER: this work features explicit non-con and other heavy topics/kinks. Click the collapsible text for more info!

Reality shifts.

It opens its eyes.

The alternate blinks, a wave of disorientation making it stumble, its head spinning as it grasps for anything in its mind to make sense of the world around it.

A hallway. A door. Darkness.

Where... is it?

It can remember... doing things, saying things -- but only vaguely. Why did it do those things? Why did it feel different now?

Urgency creeps into its mind, clawing at its skull with desperation. It squints, twisting its face into a grimace. It was supposed to do something... something important. If it didn't do what it was supposed to do -- told to do? Whatever the case, it would be... punished, it thinks. Why?

It furrows its brow deeper. Nothing makes sense, it felt like it was drowning, unable to keep its head above water -- just out of reach of reality.

A door opens.

That's right, it was trying to get that door to open. Why? What was on the other side? Something important, very important, so important its body tenses; it feels like its been electrified by the tension that pours out of the room it can now sense.

Mine, mine, mine, its mind sings to it, overjoyed that the door is open, that it can feast. Feast on what, what does that mean?

Its senses branch further into the room, and suddenly, it isn't alone. Maybe it never was alone, has that been here the whole time? That thing, living, breathing, shaking -- full of fear and rage, what is it? It tastes sweet and bitter on its tongue. Tantalizing.

A face appears before it, startling it out of its trance.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"

Something new -- pain -- blooms from its head like roses; spiraling outwards into bright crimson petals before shriveling into nothing, only to be replaced by many, many others. It blinks, reeling from the hit. Towering over it, a man -- Mark -- stands with a metal object clenched in his fist, and unbridled fury chiseled into his face.

Mark, Mark, Mark, its thoughts scream in chorus, Mine.

"Three days," Mark roars in its face, gripping the front of its stolen suit as he pins it to the ground. "Three fucking days of torture, and you think I'm just going to let you take me without a fight? Fuck you, fuck you." He spits in its face, and it flinches at the cold, wet spittle.

"I... I don't..." the alternate mutters, drowning in fog, unable to make sense of anything. Was this supposed to happen, what it meant to happen this way..?

"What? You have something to fucking say for yourself?" Mark seethes, lifting it by its lapels and slamming its head back onto the floor. Even with the carpet, the impact is enough to make the alternate dizzy. It can feel parts of itself breaking, small details cracking like a clay mask in its façade. It wasn't supposed to show anyone its face, it had to blend in. It had to stop, has to make this stop.

"St-stop-"

Mark punches its jaw, and it whines, tucking its face into its shoulder and shrinking away from him. It can feel its form start to become more abstract; spindly useless limbs unfurling from its torso and reaching outwards. They twitch and wave in the air like a spider's, tapping against the floor and Mark's arms. Mark sneers in disgust, but doesn't let go of the alternate.

It doesn't know what's happening -- but it does know what's happening -- and it's scared. It doesn't like this new feeling, this sharp stinging and dull ache and pounding false heartbeat. It's unnatural, this isn't what it's meant for.

"The fuck is wrong with you? What, do you think I'm gonna pity you if you act brain-dead?" Mark punctuates his words by wrapping a hand around its neck and punching its cheek with white-knuckled fist.

"Mhhhhhn," it groans, overwhelmed by how much and how little it understands.

"Wh- Did you just fucking moan?" Mark barks out a harsh laugh that makes the alternate flinch. "You fucking freak, do you- do you like getting the shit beat out of you?"

It blinks blearily at him, gaze unfocused. "Mhnf," it whimpers as it squirms under Mark, extra limbs curling and twitching as it tries to push him off of itself.

Mark punches its stomach, and digs his fingers into its throat.

"Ah- ack- ahhhn, haaah," the alternate rasps out through choked gasps. "Mmmh... Maaark..."

Mark loosens his grips around its throat and stares at it, slack-jawed, silent. They stare at each other. Mark huffs, shakes his head, and looks off to the side. The alternate can feel something slowly stiffen up, and poke its leg through his sweatpants.

"God... you're giving me all sorts of bad ideas," Mark mutters, lost in thought.

The alternate barely registers his words before it feels Mark yank it upwards by its human arms, and then it's being pulled forwards, stumbling until it trips face-first onto something soft, but firm.

Silence. The alternate can feel Mark's eyes boring holes into it, scrutinizing, sizing it up.

"Stay there. If you move I'm caving your skull in," Mark's voice floats through the haze.

It shifts, getting its arms under it as it tries to gain its bearings. Soft. Its long, curved claws curl into a warm fabric. A bed? Yes, a bed, its upper body is supported by a firm mattress, while its legs hold it up right. Just barely though -- its knees shake and threaten to buckle, the joints and bones shifting unnaturally. It sinks its claws into the blankets, trying to hold itself upright as its legs give out, but it slowly slides to the floor anyways, knees meeting the ground. It hopes this doesn't count as 'moving.'

Footsteps behind it, and then a pair of hands lifting it from under its arms and pulling it up, up, up until throwing it back on the bed. Its mangled legs scrabble against the carpet, shivering.

"Stupid whore, can't even stand right, huh?" Mark sneers as he grips it hips to keep it from falling again, "Need me to do everything."

Something warm flutters in the alternate's chest. That... that sounds nice, actually. It feels so lost, so empty, it... it needs someone to guide it, show it its purpose. It feels natural to let Mark manhandle its body and press his hips against its own, like it's done this before. Its extra limbs twitch, curling to its sides and resting on the bed.

It's so lost in the warmth it doesn't notice that Mark has been unbuttoning its pants until he tears them down its legs, exposing its skin to the cool night air. It shivers, still lost and confused, letting Mark's touch anchor it to reality. It tips its head forwards, resting its forehead against the soft bed and tapping the tips of its slender limbs against it in a soothing pattern.

It hears a wet clack, and hears Mark set something down. Feels him move behind it, bracing it hips with one hand while the other-

Something cold, slick, and wet breaches an entrance it didn't even know could be intruded upon.

"What- What are you- What is that!?" The alternate fumbles out, gasping as it pushes itself up onto its elbows and cranes its head to try and catch a glimpse of what Mark's doing to it. Its limbs flare out defensively, shivering in the air.

Mark cuffs it over the head, snarling, "Shut the fuck up and look pretty, whore." He brings a hand to the back of its neck and squeezes, pushing the alternate back down and forcing it still.

It gets the message, it doesn't try to get up again. Instead, it focuses on the shock overtaking it at the foreign feeling of something going inside it. His finger, maybe. Nerves spark at the new sensation. It isn't sure how it feels about it.

"Good whore, just take it," Mark murmurs, and that warm feeling flutters in the alternate's chest again. It decides to listen to Mark, gradually becoming less tense as it gets used to the feeling of Mark's finger sliding in and out, curling against its walls. It sighs, it thinks this feels... good? Maybe. Its limbs start tapping a rhythym again.

It jolts when Mark adds another finger, this time spreading its hole open with a scissoring motion, but it quickly relaxes. The feeling is becoming intoxicating, and the alternate finds itself wanting, needing more. It arches its back and pushes itself onto Mark's fingers greedily.

"Mhhn," it grunts. It feels like it needs something to hold onto, an anchor. It reaches out and grabs a pillow, dragging it to its chest and squeezing it in its arms. Its head feels fuzzy, but in a pleasant, light way. Nothing like the heavy, oppressive weight of disorienting fog that fills its head.

It trills quietly as Mark adds a third finger, so quietly it's not sure if Mark even heard it. He pumps his fingers in and out of it vigorously, and the alternate buries its head into the pillow. It still feels like it needs more, but its not sure what it needs more of. Abruptly, Mark removes all of his fingers, leaving the alternate shockingly empty. It whines, so dismayed by the loss of such a wonderful feeling that it hardly realizes that something larger is pressed against its hole.

Before it can even grasp what's happening, something big is shoved inside it, all at once. The alternate's gasp is accompanied by Mark's grunt as he bottoms out inside it, and white hot agony sears its insides.

"Ah- ah- gah- hah!" It wheezes in pain, floundering for words. It flails its extra limbs, smacking them against Mark's body. "I-it hurts! St-stop, stop, it hurts-"

"Shut the fuck up or I'll give you something to really cry about," Mark hisses as he smacks its limbs away, and then cuts himself off with a strangled moan. "Oh, fuck, you're tight..."

The alternate whines, then yelps as Mark pulls back and snaps his hips forwards in one fluid motion. It feels so full, it thinks it might split in half. It wonders if Mark would keep going if it did.

"Mnh, mmhn, hmn..." the alternate whimpers, tears stinging its eyes as Mark's thrusts take on a harsh rhythm, unforgiving and cruel. Pain sears through it with every quick, rough jerk of Mark's hips. It feels its extra limbs shifting, changing. They thicken and become stronger, and it digs them into the mattress like teeth to feel more secure.

"God, your ass feels so good," Mark groans, squeezing one of the alternate's ass cheeks in his fist. "You're just my stupid little cockslut, huh? I bet you're loving this, you sick fucking bastard."

The alternate shrieks as Mark strikes its ass, stinging fire blossoming across its skin, then fading to a static-y tingle. It sniffles as he rubs his hand over the reddening skin soothingly, then squeals as he slaps its ass again.

"I- hmmf- I'm gonna ruin your little hole until all you can think about is getting dicked down," Mark growls as he speeds up his pace, jabbing deep into the alternate's insides with his cock.

The alternate whimpers as it holds onto the pillow in its arms for dear life, squeezing it to keep itself tethered to reality. Everything is just so much, it feels like it's going to burst into a billion pieces from sheer over-stimulation. Even as the pain becomes less unbearable, it can feel a new, strange feeling boiling in its gut, sparking each time Mark's cock brushes against something inside of it. Sharp as a knife, scalding intensity, and yet... it needs more, despite feeling like Mark is going to break it beyond what it can take.

"Owh- uhn- ahh-," it gasps, small shards of words tumbling from its mouth. It doesn't even know what it's trying to say, what it wants to say, it just wants everything to stop until it can get its bearings and understand what's happening.

The strange feeling builds, like a pot boiling over, so close yet distressingly just out of reach. If only Mark could hit that spot, if it just moves its hips a little then maybe-

Lightning shoots up its spine, punching the air out of its lungs and-

"Ah- Ahhhhhh! Ah- ah- ahhh- ohhhhhhh," the alternate wails, arching its back as pleasure surges through its body at a velocity that leaves its head spinning. The sensation is utterly and violently unfamiliar, and so overwhelming. The pressure seeps into its bones, its body punching signals into its mind with a ruthlessness it can't keep up with.

"God... keep making those pretty noises for me," Mark grunts, thrusting into it and piercing that spot inside it again, ripping more caterwauls from its throat. It sobs and hiccups, its skin feels like its burning, heat scorching it inside and out, but it feels so good.

"Maa-Aaa-AAArk, Maa-aa-rrr-rk, pleeease," the alternate howls, feeling like the heavens had opened up and set it alight in holy flame; whether as punishment or reward, it couldn't know. It doesn't matter, it's torture either way. It limbs tear into the bed sheets as it grips onto them like a lifeline.

Mark's pace stutters as he leans forward to bite and kiss the back of its neck. "Fuck, fuck, good... good fucking whore, beg for me. Tell me how much you need it."

"M-more, mo-o-ore, i need m-more- need you," it obeys in buzzing gasps. Anything, anything for the man orchestrating its undoing. Ecstasy possesses its body and mind, it babbles incoherently and weeps as Mark ruins it -- corrupting its existence into something it was never meant to experience, never meant to know.

Mark huffs and moans as his hips snap irregularly, grunting in effort. The alternate can feel its imitated blood roiling, singing, crashing like waves against a shore. Something stretches, and strains-

And snaps.

"MAAARK!" the alternate screams as its vision whites out, and its entire body spasms like its been hit by lightning. Mark bellows as he plows into it for the last time, and the alternate feels his cum sear its insides, seed claiming it as his.

Mark ruts shallowly into the alternate as they both come down, huffing as he gives a last half-hearted thrust. He pulls out and collapses onto the bed, boneless and heaving for breath.

The alternate slides off the bed, very slowly falling to lie down on the carpet. Cum leaks from its hole, mixed with a crude mimicry of blood. Its head feels wrapped in cotton, everything is fuzzy around the edges and smoothed over by a numbing bliss. It whimpers, it wants... it wants warmth, wants Mark.

It stands up on shaky, disjointed legs, gripping the bed sheets with its spidery limbs as leverage so it can haul itself onto the bed. It crawls until its tucked against Mark's side, safe, warm, and collapses against him. Its limbs become softer, flexible, and covered in fuzz as all sharpness drains from its body.

"Ughh," Mark groans as it wiggles into his arms, looking down at it with a drained expression. He seems to be considering something, expression pinched in concentration. He sighs, as though defeated. His arms wrap around the alternate, and it snakes limbs around his torso. The bliss is overpowering, it can feel a bright grin creeping across its face.

Mark puts a hand in its hair, scratching the alternates scalp as it 'purrs' -- the rumbling of white noise come to life in its chest. He side-eyes it, not expecting the thing to purr, but too exhausted to really be surprised. He sighs.

"I bet you're going to kill me in the morning, aren't you?" Mark says softly, like he's confessing something.

It doesn't think it wants to do that, it doesn't think it wants that at all. It just... Mark's arms are comfortable, curling around its frame, possessive and dangerous. It thinks it wants to stay, bury itself under the covers and let Mark do whatever he wants with it. Its eyelids grow heavy, soon it can't keep them open anymore.

Mark snorts. "I wouldn't care. Honestly, I don't give a fuck if I live or die, anymore. Congratulations on that, I guess."

"Mmhn..." it grunts, snuggling into his chest. It feels like its underwater, weightlessly drifting in a light current.

Mark doesn't say anything after that, just pulls it closer, tucks its face under his chin. He closes his eyes to sound of the alternate snoring.