07-14-2018, 01:52 PM
STOCKING ANARCHY
✯ — if you don't fuck with us then motherfuck you
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heavenly body, wrapped in carnal flesh. it was disgusting. it was insulting. they cast her down, stripped her of her powers.
angels were perfect, heavenly beings. created from the flesh of the divine. pure justice and truth. graceful beings.
she was no angel now.
the glutton. they called her. the vulgar, they whispered. not fit to be within heaven's gates. not fit to be an angel. not fit to cast down demons. after all, how could a champion of heaven embody the very things they despised? how could she embody the very things they were meant to oppose?
it was so sudden. everyone turned against her. the bitches. the cowardly. she wanted to scream at them. how dare they? how dare they turn on her? they were nothing but pansies. all several hundred years of her life, she had wanted many things. back then, she'd wanted nothing more than to cut them up upon her two blades. feel their souls turn to dust.
judgment had told her it was for her own good.
for her own good her ass. she'd show them. she'd show them all.
that thought was quickly pushed away from the fore center of her mind when she found herself falling. and fast.
she was a comet. a blazing, streaking force of nature on it's way to earth. she felt herself lose her holiness. she could feel the agonizing burn as the fall stripped her of her wings. she was falling too fast to scream at all.
her body fell fast. past a string of barren trees. they broke away with her impact, splintering upon collision. but their branches cut into her now mortal skin. they cut deep, and she felt weak.
she could barely feel herself colliding with the muck of the marshes. too weak to move. her blood mingling with the muck. it was fitting for her. she was filthy. her head ached and ringed with exhaustion and nausea. so numb was she, stocking was unable to move. she didn't want to, anyways.
she lay there, unable to move, and willing herself to waste away.
// tdlr; stocking is an angel cast down from heaven after failing to conform to divine behavior. she is currently laying in the marsh, injured, un-moving and half conscious. her injuries include multiple cuts and scrapes, and a broken hind leg
angels were perfect, heavenly beings. created from the flesh of the divine. pure justice and truth. graceful beings.
she was no angel now.
the glutton. they called her. the vulgar, they whispered. not fit to be within heaven's gates. not fit to be an angel. not fit to cast down demons. after all, how could a champion of heaven embody the very things they despised? how could she embody the very things they were meant to oppose?
it was so sudden. everyone turned against her. the bitches. the cowardly. she wanted to scream at them. how dare they? how dare they turn on her? they were nothing but pansies. all several hundred years of her life, she had wanted many things. back then, she'd wanted nothing more than to cut them up upon her two blades. feel their souls turn to dust.
judgment had told her it was for her own good.
for her own good her ass. she'd show them. she'd show them all.
that thought was quickly pushed away from the fore center of her mind when she found herself falling. and fast.
she was a comet. a blazing, streaking force of nature on it's way to earth. she felt herself lose her holiness. she could feel the agonizing burn as the fall stripped her of her wings. she was falling too fast to scream at all.
her body fell fast. past a string of barren trees. they broke away with her impact, splintering upon collision. but their branches cut into her now mortal skin. they cut deep, and she felt weak.
she could barely feel herself colliding with the muck of the marshes. too weak to move. her blood mingling with the muck. it was fitting for her. she was filthy. her head ached and ringed with exhaustion and nausea. so numb was she, stocking was unable to move. she didn't want to, anyways.
she lay there, unable to move, and willing herself to waste away.
// tdlr; stocking is an angel cast down from heaven after failing to conform to divine behavior. she is currently laying in the marsh, injured, un-moving and half conscious. her injuries include multiple cuts and scrapes, and a broken hind leg
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