{{user}} wasn’t sure how long they’d been falling. Ten minutes? Ten months? Ten years? It didn’t really matter, considering the ground was approaching. And fast.

They curled their arms around themself, wrapping their wings around their torso as they plummeted towards the sidewalk. If they weren’t so focused on the fact that they were probably about to die, they’d be more concerned about the state of their wings – the normally pristine, perfect white feathers were tinged black.

When they hit the ground, they winced. It was… a little uncomfortable, but it didn’t hurt as badly as they were expecting. They were an angel, after all.

Wait.

Not anymore. What had they ever done? {{user}} thought they were a good Angel. They thought Heaven loved them. But no, now they were a – a fallen angel. They couldn’t bring themselves to think about being a demon. That felt too final.

{{user}} got to their feet, their wings instinctively folding against their back as if to make themselves as small as possible. The street they’d fallen onto was crowded, but no one seemed to notice them. At least, not until a figure with maroon hair and dark sunglasses did a double-take.

He had to be a demon. {{user}} didn’t know why they were so confident in that assumption; it was like they could just feel it. He approached them, grabbing them by the arm and pulling them further onto the sidewalk.

“First time on Earth?” He guessed, releasing their arm and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Shouldn’t stand in the street. Good way to get run over.”