Thinking about wingfics again... and the thing is that when Grace tried to run, winged!Grace would have immediately jumped into the air (never mind the fact that he hadn't flown for years). But Eva would have been expecting that. Of course there are peregrine-winged guards for pursuit, but that risks damage of multiple people, and she needs Grace whole. So she set up a net gun.
But the thing about net guns is that they're supposed to be used over water (collecting waterfowl to band for tracking). Maybe she knew that, maybe not. Either way, she couldn't ask her right-hand man for advice, for obvious reasons. So when her guards fire the net-gun, Grace has almost made it over the fence, and the net brings him down right on top of it.
The broken rib is one thing. The broken wing is another.
They don't have time to fix it. They don't have time to fix him. All they can do is bind it and program extra settings into the ship in hopes it'll move him around more carefully to keep the wing from fusing wrong as it heals.
He wonders if that's what saved him in the end, after he wakes up alone, after he remembers who he was and what happened. If the same programming extended to the others, would they have lived? He'll never know.
And what if, after all that, after being treated eggshell-gently by the med-bot on the ship, his wing still heals wrong? He turns back for Rocky knowing he's going to die, but he was already grounded. What difference does it make?
And then, after Eridian scientists synthesize food for him, he has to live in this big beautiful space, this biodome they built for him with extra height so he could fly, and he has to explain that he can never fly again. Maybe the increased gravity wouldn't let him, anyway - but now he'll never know.
Anyway, that's how Erid designs their first terrestrial aircraft. They gotta get Grace back up in the air somehow.
wingfic Laura would have bearded vulture wings and they would be huge.. she likes to attempt to get all her bandmates under them and usually only manages to get James and Atom under them as Andrew's wings are just as big as hers and he would rather just sit near her... who else up making the members of against me! kiss
Unlike wings with feathers (example being bird wings), Butterflies can’t heal from torn or damaged wings. It’s not because of lack of blood flow, because butterflies do have veins in their wings (although, unlike humans, their blood doesn’t primarily carry oxygen, so maybe that’s it?).
Whereas birds can fly with broken wings, will regrow clipped feathers, can heal correctly when treated with a splint or surgery, Butterflies don’t have that option. They can’t shed their wings like a bird would shed or pluck damaged feathers so new ones grow in, either.
Once their wing is damaged, it stays like that. I read somewhere that butterflies can fly with up to 70% of their wings missing, but I don’t know how accurate that is.
A butterfly’s wings are made of chitin, several thin membranous layers of it. It’s the same thing that makes up their exoskeleton - consider Chitin for them, what Keratin is to humans (fingernails, hair). The veins that run through them are there for structural support.
Their wings are covered in tiny hairs, which we call scales - if you’ve ever touch a butterfly’s wings, and you shouldn’t, that powdery glitter that comes off on your hands are their scales.
Similarly to the wing itself, these scales don’t grow back. Which is very bad.
Scales on a butterflies wings are what give them their special patterns - sensitive to light, they help the butterfly absorb heat and insulate their bodies (heat is a factor in when a butterfly can fly, they need to have a body temperature of at least 55 degrees Fahrenheit). If a butterfly is caught in a spider web, they can rub off some scales to escape.
Now put this into a wing/soulmate au.
In a normal wing au, wing types (bird or insect, etc) is probably passed down through family lines - but in a soulmate au, maybe only characteristics - certain colors, or patterns - are shared? And it becomes a gradient, or slowly changes (new patterns/feathers) once you meet your soulmate or kiss them or press your wings together?
Example - A comes from a family who primarily has wings which are avian-based. B has butterfly wings (maybe is the older one?). A is born with butterfly wings, but it has a feather-patterns like a bird’s wings, befitting the family line.
Line of thought is a work-in-progress.
I’m not sure if humans with butterfly wings could actually fly with them, I don’t have a good grasp on human or bird anatomy enough to even hazard a guess, but - considering the size of a normal butterfly’s wings to their body, they’d be huge.
As in, about the size of their own body, huge. Maybe a little taller than their head, while the hindwings end at their calves? At least for adults.
Butterfly and others with insect wings are probably very cautious - and probably prized? Maybe they’re rare, compared to bird-style wings. Protected because, unlike others, their wings won’t heal? Or, if they can heal - at least a little, because they aren’t actually butterflies - after an injury the wing is especially fragile and more difficult to fly with. Ragged splotches that lack any scales or patterns. And the worse or more often you injure it afterwards, the less it manages to recover from each injury.
(Imagine if the color fades once a soulmate dies - not completely blank, but definitely washed out. Aged, in a way?).
The scales would probably be a bit more durable, not as easy to wipe off (imagine trying to sleep!).
It might be difficult for them to fly in the rain. Though butterfly wings are pretty hydrophobic, the rain can weigh them down - and again, they rely on body heat to fly. If they get too cold, they can’t - obviously, for humans with butterfly wings, it’d work a little differently, but the concern is still there.
It would probably still make it difficult to fly, if impossible to do at all, but what if their wings were durable and flexible enough to wrap around their bodies in the rain - like raincoats?
It's been a while since I saw you mention it, but I remember you working on a wingfic? Just wondering if that's still a possibility, no pressure. You're so prolific, I'm always in awe of the wonderful work you put out!!
yes!!! this is going to sound incredibly fake because you prompted it out of me, but i actually re-opened the wingfic document literally a week ago because i'm working on it again.
its so funny cause the document is titled 13-15k but i know its gonna be like. 30k at least. it's 7k already and anakin is just a kid. like they JUST met
CWs: Injury, gunshot wounds, fighting, (speedrun enemies to lovers?) Caitlyn Did In Fact Shoot Vi, It's Fine, Implied/referenced broken bones, falling, blood, implied fantasy speciesism (discrimination against nonhumans)
___
This is bad.
The wing’s a bad place to take a shot on a good day, a bad place to take a shot during takeoff or landing, a bad place to take a shot in sunny fucking perfect weather. This is not a good day. This is not the ground, it’s raining, and Vi is falling out of the sky.
She goes head over heels and tries to brace herself but she knows without a doubt that this is going to hurt, no matter how prepared she is, there’s nothing that’s going to save her. She has a few seconds too long to think about it, too little desire for introspection to let her life flash before her eyes, but she spares a few apologies for the promises she’s not gonna get to keep, the people she’s not going to get to call, Sorry I wasn’t a better daughter a better friend a better sist—
She hits a dune, rolls, can’t help the half-scream that’s knocked out of her when her bad wing gets caught under her as she goes, tries to slide, flips again, lands in a heap of her own black and red feathers and wonder how much of it’s her colors and how much is her blood.
She tips her head up, feels the rain on her face. Everything is hazy gray, like she’s fading out into the cloud cover, even as she fights, tries to count her breaths, tries to breathe deep enough to check how badly she’s injured. The answering sharp red flare of pain provides the answer. Bad. bad enough that she doesn’t know what ribs it is that have taken the hit, if it’s her back, if it’s her wings. It’s bad enough that it doesn’t matter. She’s not going to make it.
She’s not going to accept that.
She’s gathering her strength, still counting, still figuring out the exact angles of her joints and how much she can muster, even through the haze, as she hears the footsteps. She stays slack, closes her eyes. Play dead. Catch them unawares. She doesn’t know if she has the strength to— she’ll find it. She has to.
The footsteps pick up into a run, get clumsier— that’s unprofessional— and then there’s the distinct sound of—
“Shit.”
It’s close enough that this is almost certainly the only chance Vi is going to get, so she moves. She launches herself up and forward in the direction of the voice, managing to knock the figure onto it’s back before she’s even opened her eyes, and then—
She makes a mistake.
It’s only half a second, half a second of faltering when she opens her eyes, half a second of shock at the splash of raven hair across the sand, of the wide started eyes, of the parted pink lips, of Oh, she’s beautiful, and then she moves like a coiled snake and flips, slamming Vi down underneath her so hard that Vi feels something give in her wings and can’t suppress another choked-off scream, and then there’s steel against her throat.
“Don’t move.” the other woman orders, and Vi hisses.
“Not a lotta choice in the matter there, sweetie.”
“Don’t call me sweetie.”
“Well I don’t know your name, now do I?”
“—Caitlyn.”
Vi’s vision clears enough from the pain to give focusing her eyes another attempt. The woman on top of her has hair strung in a low pennant pony-tail. Her clothes are tactical gear, and there’s a rifle across her shoulder.
...of about the specs it’d need to be to shoot Vi down from half a mile off.
Fuck.
“Can’t say it’s nice to meet you, Caitlyn.” Vi manages.
“Likewise.” Caitlyn says, clipped. She looks... stressed. Something in Vi’s mind is trying to put up a signal that something is strange here. She’d learned to trust that instinct, she lets her head drop, giving the impression of surrender and a little bit of distance from the knife.
“Forgive me for putting up a decent fight for my life.” She snarks. “I’ll be sure to fly into the bullet next time. Just let me go and we’ll try this again, huh?”
Something looks raw and hurt in Caitlyn’s expression, but to Vi’s shock, she just...drops the knife. Sits back and shrugs off her backpack.
“What are you doing?” Vi asks.
She should really have learned to stop asking people with the guns that question a long time ago, but maybe the 454th time or whatever really is the charm, because Caitlyn answers.
“I need to dress the wound in your wing.”
Vi’s eyebrows pull together. That... didn’t make sense.
“....Why. Would you do that. You put it there.”
“Because I didn’t mean to.” Caitlyn says, voice clipped, and for a minute that doesn’t process at all. No one carries a rifle like that unless they know how to use it.
“Because you meant to shoot me in the head?” Vi hazards. “Because I really didn’t mean it about the releasing me again for sport, Angelface, I only get hunted recreationally—”
“Oh will you—” Caitlyn cuts herself off, takes a deep breath in, lets it out again. “—there was. A griffon. I’ve been tracking. I’m not— I only hunt animals. Not people.”
“....Some wouldn’t consider me a people.” Vi says, slowly.
“Well, I would.” Caitlyn says, flatly, like the very suggestion otherwise is offensive. “—It was a small griffon. It’s raining. It has a similar coloration.”
“You... hit me by accident.”
“You don’t need to rub it in. Is it true that— your kind have hollow bones?”
Vi blinks, processing. “—Yeah. Why?”
Caitlyn finishes the work she’s doing on Vi’s wing, which— is stinging a little less now, and carefully folds Vi’s wings the best she can, moving carefully, although Vi thinks that the lingering her hands are doing might be more reverent than medically necessary. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking.
Vi’s so caught up in the feeling of careful hands against her wings that for a second she forgets that she asked a question entirely, doesn’t catch Caitlyn’s non-answer, is taken completely by surprise when Caitlyn moves her arms underneath Vi.
“Hold onto me.” She instructs.
“What are you—”
Caitlyn lifts her without further comment, tucking Vi carefully into her arms, arm under Vi’s wings to provide cushioning for Vi’s back and ribs, ignoring the startled noise Vi makes as, despite herself, she obeys her instincts and reaches up for Caitlyn’s shoulders.
“Try to relax.” Caitlyn says. “—But stay awake. You need to be awake to tell me if the pain gets any worse.”
The pain has gotten worse, but Vi breathes through it, focuses irrationally on the way Caitlyn smells. It’s... floral. Has to be strong, she can smell it through the rain. She closes her eyes and presses her face more into the hard edge of a shoulderpad.
“Got it.” She grits out.
“You may find it easier to stay awake if you... make conversation.”
“You want me to make small talk with you? After you shot me?”
Caitlyn hisses out a breath. “I am trying to help.” she says, tone controlled, and...shit, that tone kinda sounds familiar. Kinda sounds like the one Vi uses when she’s upset.
“You’re a really good shot.” Vi says.
“There’s no call to rub it in—”
“No, hang on.” Vi says, cutting her off. “Hang on. I’ve got a point with this one. You’re...not used to missing this bad, huh?”
The silence is heavy, the only sound the movement of Caitlyn’s boots on the sand that’s starting to give way to proper ground, the steady drum of the rain.
“....No.” she admits. “I’m not.”
“Well. At least it’s a failure of your eye and not your aim.”
“My eye is my aim.” Caitlyn snaps, and wuh-oh. She sounds more upset now, “If I didn’t hit what I was aiming for I don’t get to retroactively claim—”
“There was nothing in the sky with me.” Vi points out. “You didn’t get mixed up between two targets. I was the only target.”
“I—” Caitlyn cuts herself off with a sigh. “Why are you comforting me?”
Vi snorts. She is, isn’t she?
“No idea.” She mumbles. “Hate seeing pretty girls upset, I guess.”
“Well I hate seeing pretty girls bleeding because I shot them.” Caitlyn deadpans, which startles a laugh out of Vi, rapidly followed by a hiss of pain as her ribs object to the jolt, and Caitlyn adjusts her.
“No more jokes.” She mumbles.
“Save ‘em, if you stick around.”
Caitlyn gives her a curious look, and Vi clarifies, trying to disguise vulnerability as banter.
“—I mean, hey, if you want to leave an injured harpie alone with a medic and just hope they’ve got my best intentions at heart, I guess I could use the practice fist fighting—”
Caitlyn hisses. “—No, I wasn’t going to leave. I just figured you would want me to wait outside. Considering.”
“Nah.” Vi says. “Not every day I get picked up.”
She gives it a beat, grins. Caitlyn sighs, but her cheeks are a little bit pink, and Vi’s tallying that a win. Truthfully, she’s... feeling out of it. The haze of the hit and the pain are a hell of a drug. She shouldn’t be allowing this at all, but it’s....working. She’ll take it.
“—Name’s Vi.” She offers. “By the way.”
“Vi.” Cait says, and the way her accent curls over it makes Vi want to ask her to say it again, and oh. Alright. This might be trouble.
Hello, my dear Pocket. Not an ask game but can you tell me about your wings AU? Maybe something you find cool and can't wait to write?
*vibrates at a normal speed* yes i can always talk about wings au my beloved oh wings au yes yes
- Did you know birds can get white feathers a few ways? feathers can grow in paler as a bird gets more stressed out or older, while feathers can grow with stress bars- white lines basically that are more brittle and prone to breaking- with poor diet?
- Anyway, Inko and Toshi were both very involved when Izuku started training more because if his diet didn't reflect that, he could get stress bars! he could end up grounded if his feathers break wrong
- Anyway, First lost pigment in his feathers for several molts in his life, and Tomura had a lot of white too when his family first died.
- AfO takes Tomura here as more vengeance against Gran than Nana, because he knows Gran took custody of Hana and thought the other was dead, so pain.
- Eri has wings similar to a lark! she's adorable and adored.
