Watch the Sad-Eyed Angel Fall
Dec. 25th, 2025 07:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dreamingwithfairiesFor a moment, her eyes reflected the sky from which she had fallen. A soft, fluffy cloud passed from one eye to the other. Tears welled up as the ocean waves lapped at her broken body. She blinked, hard, and when she opened her eyes the brilliant sunset hues of the heavens faded into monochrome.
“As is thy will, Father.” The fallen angel whispered, smiling with gratitude. Even now, she received punishment like it was love. He will forgive her someday, if she was very good and pure, she believed it with her whole being. This was a lesson, not exile. Right?
A cold, salty wave crashed over her, shocking her into movement. She coughed, spat out the water, and crawled further towards the rocky shore, her tattered off-white robes dragged behind her like seaweed.
The fallen angel did not know what to do next. She was no one, all alone, on this rocky beach somewhere on God’s Earth. The wind was cold, the seagulls were loud, and the rocks were sharp on her bare feet as she tiptoed over them. Her wings were gone, her powers were stripped, yet her faith did not waver. Something must happen, someone must give me a sign, a nudge, she thought.
Then she was haunted by flashbacks, the things she had done prior to her fall. Carnal things, sinful things, selfish things, uninhibited and violent things.
She fell to her knees and threw up pink slime. It smelled sweet and floral. Brilliant sparkles could be seen in the fading light of the sunset, in her angelic vomit. There it was - and she was forced to look at it - the personification of her sins. Her dark hair was stuck in wet clumps, moved like stiff snakes in the breeze. She picked up a handful of sand and with it covered the slime, then dumped a bunch of rocks for good measure. Confronting the sight of her body ejecting sweet sin reminded her that she wasn’t entirely grateful for her punishment - she was bitter, as all fallen angels are. Do I even want to go home? What if I never belonged in Heaven? She pondered as she continued walking.
The last rays of the sun hovered over the ocean like a final goodbye, and she realised nothing was going to happen - unless she willed it. There would be no signs - she would have to find her own way. Readiness is not something you wait for - it’s something you decide.
She decided to stop walking along the shore.
There was no boardwalk, but there was a set of zigzagging stone steps leading out of the beach and up over to dry land. She listened to the wind - beyond the crashing of the waves, somewhere, there were whispering trees. She longed to touch one, to watch the leaves dance and soothe her heart. She would go there.
Each step she took was slow. Deliberate. She was familiar enough with her humanoid form but now it was her permanent vessel, and she needed to get used to that, understand it as an entity she would need to care for. Understand, too, that she was a woman with a womb, with hips and breasts that could be both a weakness and a power in ways angels do not fully comprehend.
This female form was the vessel she wore to commit sins.
This body is the vessel of shame.
The fallen angel - the woman - found a path to follow onwards from the top of the steps. There were walls on either side, a few cars, and of course - trees. Streetlights turned on, flooding the street with cool light, reminiscent of moonlight. Would anybody see her? Is that what she wanted? She was aimless again and stood in one spot, hugging herself from the cold.
“First time, huh?” A man’s voice addressed her. A match struck. She saw a little warm flame being cupped by two hands over a cigarette hanging from between his lips. The woman tilted her head uncertainly as she scanned him - he was at least six inches taller than her, with skin darker than the night. His hair was longer than hers. His bright white eyes looked back at her from the shadows as he moved toward her, holding out the burning match in his hand.
Without even thinking, she moved towards it, towards him. She was entranced by the flame - its light, its warmth. It reminded her of something she struggled to remember now. The flame progressed closer to the man’s fingers, burning them. He dropped the match and let the flame die on the ground beneath them.
Different scents mingled as they entered her nostrils - smoke, wood, tobacco, leather, and something human, something artificial but pleasant. A warm, spiced fragrance.
“You… Saw me fall?” She asked in a low, uncertain murmur. She did not yet know how quiet or loud she should be.
The man nodded. “You know, I could make a joke about this, but I doubt you’ll laugh.”
To his pleasant surprise there was a mischievous smile that flickered across her lips. She knew what he meant, she heard the joke before. It was always funny to her.
He was no mere mortal, she saw recognition in his eyes. She did not expect to see anyone so soon, let alone a fallen one like herself.
“What do I do, my brother?” She asked him.
“There’s some people staring at us. Hug me and then let me guide you to my car, or they’ll get very suspicious.”
She did as he told her and put her arms around him, feeling his body heat warm her through his clothes. It felt good to hold another body again.
The man did as he said he would, pulling her to his side as they walked away.
“You’ll feel better once you meet the others.” He assured her. “Don’t worry.”
Neon lights from storefronts and takeaways zoomed across the car’s windows and mirrors as the fallen angel relaxed in the backseat. She had opened the window, the breeze felt good, liberating. No longer salty and sad; it was alive, human, vital. In that moment she felt herself joining a new energy stream, one of new possibilities. She would no longer be merely dipping her toes into mortality. She would be just like everybody else - one of God’s beloved sinners.
“As is thy will, Father.” The fallen angel whispered, smiling with gratitude. Even now, she received punishment like it was love. He will forgive her someday, if she was very good and pure, she believed it with her whole being. This was a lesson, not exile. Right?
A cold, salty wave crashed over her, shocking her into movement. She coughed, spat out the water, and crawled further towards the rocky shore, her tattered off-white robes dragged behind her like seaweed.
The fallen angel did not know what to do next. She was no one, all alone, on this rocky beach somewhere on God’s Earth. The wind was cold, the seagulls were loud, and the rocks were sharp on her bare feet as she tiptoed over them. Her wings were gone, her powers were stripped, yet her faith did not waver. Something must happen, someone must give me a sign, a nudge, she thought.
Then she was haunted by flashbacks, the things she had done prior to her fall. Carnal things, sinful things, selfish things, uninhibited and violent things.
She fell to her knees and threw up pink slime. It smelled sweet and floral. Brilliant sparkles could be seen in the fading light of the sunset, in her angelic vomit. There it was - and she was forced to look at it - the personification of her sins. Her dark hair was stuck in wet clumps, moved like stiff snakes in the breeze. She picked up a handful of sand and with it covered the slime, then dumped a bunch of rocks for good measure. Confronting the sight of her body ejecting sweet sin reminded her that she wasn’t entirely grateful for her punishment - she was bitter, as all fallen angels are. Do I even want to go home? What if I never belonged in Heaven? She pondered as she continued walking.
The last rays of the sun hovered over the ocean like a final goodbye, and she realised nothing was going to happen - unless she willed it. There would be no signs - she would have to find her own way. Readiness is not something you wait for - it’s something you decide.
She decided to stop walking along the shore.
There was no boardwalk, but there was a set of zigzagging stone steps leading out of the beach and up over to dry land. She listened to the wind - beyond the crashing of the waves, somewhere, there were whispering trees. She longed to touch one, to watch the leaves dance and soothe her heart. She would go there.
Each step she took was slow. Deliberate. She was familiar enough with her humanoid form but now it was her permanent vessel, and she needed to get used to that, understand it as an entity she would need to care for. Understand, too, that she was a woman with a womb, with hips and breasts that could be both a weakness and a power in ways angels do not fully comprehend.
This female form was the vessel she wore to commit sins.
This body is the vessel of shame.
The fallen angel - the woman - found a path to follow onwards from the top of the steps. There were walls on either side, a few cars, and of course - trees. Streetlights turned on, flooding the street with cool light, reminiscent of moonlight. Would anybody see her? Is that what she wanted? She was aimless again and stood in one spot, hugging herself from the cold.
“First time, huh?” A man’s voice addressed her. A match struck. She saw a little warm flame being cupped by two hands over a cigarette hanging from between his lips. The woman tilted her head uncertainly as she scanned him - he was at least six inches taller than her, with skin darker than the night. His hair was longer than hers. His bright white eyes looked back at her from the shadows as he moved toward her, holding out the burning match in his hand.
Without even thinking, she moved towards it, towards him. She was entranced by the flame - its light, its warmth. It reminded her of something she struggled to remember now. The flame progressed closer to the man’s fingers, burning them. He dropped the match and let the flame die on the ground beneath them.
Different scents mingled as they entered her nostrils - smoke, wood, tobacco, leather, and something human, something artificial but pleasant. A warm, spiced fragrance.
“You… Saw me fall?” She asked in a low, uncertain murmur. She did not yet know how quiet or loud she should be.
The man nodded. “You know, I could make a joke about this, but I doubt you’ll laugh.”
To his pleasant surprise there was a mischievous smile that flickered across her lips. She knew what he meant, she heard the joke before. It was always funny to her.
He was no mere mortal, she saw recognition in his eyes. She did not expect to see anyone so soon, let alone a fallen one like herself.
“What do I do, my brother?” She asked him.
“There’s some people staring at us. Hug me and then let me guide you to my car, or they’ll get very suspicious.”
She did as he told her and put her arms around him, feeling his body heat warm her through his clothes. It felt good to hold another body again.
The man did as he said he would, pulling her to his side as they walked away.
“You’ll feel better once you meet the others.” He assured her. “Don’t worry.”
Neon lights from storefronts and takeaways zoomed across the car’s windows and mirrors as the fallen angel relaxed in the backseat. She had opened the window, the breeze felt good, liberating. No longer salty and sad; it was alive, human, vital. In that moment she felt herself joining a new energy stream, one of new possibilities. She would no longer be merely dipping her toes into mortality. She would be just like everybody else - one of God’s beloved sinners.
