Jess. 22. Texan.
Stumbling through adulthood and willing to talk to anyone about anything. I do a lot of shipping and a lot of writing.
fabulous new icon courtesy of valedecems!
i am obsessively writing headcanons for all of the falling angels, like:
Baradiel couldn’t manage a scream as she was ripped from Heaven and she couldn’t even scream when the wings that had been part of her being for millennia suddenly were ripped away from her. She was silent the entire time, even as she hit the ground hard and she felt something (her leg?) break. How could she scream at a broken leg when she already felt broken inside?
And then a flash of blaring, impossible lights (there was a word for this artificial light….) and a warm hand on her shoulder, “Miss? Are you alright?”
It was a man—barely older than her vessel—concerned and panting and breathing hard.
Baradiel looked at him and flicked her eyes between the hand on her shoulder, the concern in his eyes, the break of her leg, and the hundreds of angels still falling around her.
She opened her mouth and screamed.