starscreamloki:

When people think about angels, they think about golden locks, white wings and fluffy clouds under their innocent white dresses. But even though there are angels with blond hair and white wings they definitely have better things to do than sitting on a cloud and playing the harp all day.

Some were busy with trying to guide the humans in their ways, others fly to and fro with messages but most of them loved busying themselves with something else – something one might think not quite befitting for an angel.

Because among those blond haired angels there was one stranger born from the unison of a demon and an angel. His hair blacker than the deepest night, his eyes green but with a red fire, his skin fair but pale and his tongue as forked as a snake.

Loki sat on a cloud, the other angels calling him names for his mixed heritage, or teasing him by trying to push him of the cloud, but Loki didn’t respond.

He let them tease him, he let them hurt him because the harder he fought, the harder they bit back. They cared naught about him and he didn’t care about them.

One day.

One day soon they would all fall before him, and thus he let them harass and pester him.

His time would come.

But when his cloud crew darker due to a jest from one of the angels, and the lighting tore through it burning his skin and setting fire to his veins, Loki lashed out. He spread his big leather wings and flew after the assailant motivated by pain, anger and fear, but mostly by loneliness.

He struck the angel with his spear but the divine being didn’t fall from the sky and fought back. Thunder and lightning battered at Loki’s form but he would not relent and he fought on, biting, scratching and tearing skin where he could find a hold.

The angels tumbled through the sky, their deadly dance a blur of black and white, until the Archangel descended upon them and broke up their fight.

The Archangel was angry with Loki because he had never liked his black wings and the red gleam in his eyes and the oversee-er didn’t want to listen to Loki, favoring his other angel. So the Archangel punished Loki by ripping his leathery wings from his back, making Loki fall from the clouds and plunge to his deadly decent upon Earth.

It was the last thing the angels saw from their misunderstood brother and when he hit the ground with a mighty blow, none of them cared to even wonder if he had survived and they went on with their lives.

The fallen angel was gone.

Shunned.

Alone.

Dead.

Forgotten.

At least, that is what they thought…

“Rise my army!”

Original prompt line by Creative Writing Prompts