#Wingswap

[stalarys]

it was only a kiss, it was only a kiss

“IT WAS ONLY A KISS, IT WAS ONLY A KISS” ; or, martyn inthelittlewood and the passing of the curse // wingswap / shared curse au (?) // ao3 link

cw: graphic descriptions of canon violence, vomiting, body horror (??)

spoilers through secret life ep 4

1.7k words

-----

Tensions are always the lightest at the start of a session. Freshly spawned in, feeling fully vitalized and without any expectations for the challenges ahead. With no allies, no enemies, no bases… It's so lighthearted, and Martyn loves it. They all can be dramatic and murderous in the end, but these early, peaceful moments are something he treasures. 

(he feels like he’s missing something. that he hops between worlds so frequently, while it seems like the others all have a home to go to. it’s not mentioned to him. other worlds are never mentioned here, in the world of red, yellow, and green.)

Tensions are light, and Martyn is the one that breaks it. Sue him, he’s giddy to get started, and it’s not his fault when he swings a wide, joking punch… and Jimmy moves right into its path. It’s not his fault, he’d say defensively – in the gleeful energy of the new world’s start, Jimmy is hit; the group recoils, some in momentary (but genuine) alarm; others with cackling laughter.

Jimmy looks affronted, golden wings flared in surprise before breaking into a grin. Martyn matches it, holding his hands up in defense; an ‘over the shoulder tease gone wrong’, but… he did take a smidgen of Jimmy’s health. A red spot that’ll bruise, with no way to heal itself. 

So he clasps his hands together and parts them, a heart forming in his palms. He ushers it to Jimmy with a breath of air as the group begins to split, taking the pandemonium as an excuse to get the season started! 

The bruise clears; Jimmy blinks, and his grin splits even wider. He lunges at Martyn, feathered ears fluttering, wings and arms alike open wide. 

“Gimme a kiss, gimme a little kiss—!” Jimmy chirps. 

They meet in the middle; arms interlocked, fingers interlaced. Lips pressed together so briefly. These games are thrilling and horrible and torturous and all, but… you get to know each other very well. More than you know yourself. The pressure’s low with his last win, and… well, frankly? He doesn’t feel like the Watchers would let anyone strike it twice in a row. 

For Martyn’s purposes, one win is enough for now. 

His lips tingle as they part, feet hitting the ground running in different directions. Towards the forests, towards the blossoming trees, and Martyn cannot help but think to himself — What can go wrong? 

-----

So what, they find themselves drifting back together. This game is… different. A bit more like a game. Maybe it’s the symbol of the Secret Keeper that unnerves him, and maybe he finds solace in those who remember. Occasional glances shared amidst the glee and chaos, even while they chant “FAIL” under the figure’s looming gaze. 

-----

Fire crackles. Lava burbles nearby, unseen, lying in wait. The air is heavy. Thick with sulfur, thick with heat. Pure, baking heat, devoid of humidity. Thick with the smell of blood. Shield raised, Martyn gasps as the gleaming axe swings down, slamming through the barricade of wood. The shield splinters apart in his grasp, splinters digging into his arm as he drops it. 

The brute does not wait for a cry of mercy; the axe swings back up, the blunt handle cracking against his jaw as the bone slams together; Marytn stumbles back. He — he shouldn’t have done this, shouldn’t be here, but — but he needs to be. Stupidly, undiscerning, chasing that gods damned need to be better. 

His vision spins. The brute reaches into his desperate, haphazard tunnel, and grabs the front of his shirt in an unforgiving hoof. It reels back and just as quickly slams him back against the wall of the tunnel, before peeling his bloodied, beaten body off. He’s thrown to the ground, gilded blackstone splattered with blood. 

Martyn’s gaze blinks through the blood and the nausea, just in time to watch the brute’s axe complete a full arc, and slam into his chest. 

. . .

The impact carries him through the respawn, to the point that he can’t even recognize when it changed from burning, unforgiving stone to lush grass. It hurts, wounds stitched together and healed faster than he got them, and it hurts. His bisected chest forces itself back together, the skin weaving back into place; it doesn’t leave so much as a scar. 

Martyn can’t bring himself to think about that; he can’t think to begin with. His head is filled with cotton and a murky haze, blurring time and sensation together. His fingers dig into the ground ‘til the grass is uprooted. 

Light shifts, dancing over his pressed-shut eyelids; something moves overhead. There’s… voices, and his mind hums that there’s an obligation. A change in dynamics, that they’re closer to enemies than allies. 

But arms hook under his own, helping him into a seated position. His back presses against the indented form of a crafting table. There’s a bottle of water at his lips. A bowl of something pressed into his hands. Murmurs of shock, of sympathy, and there’s Grian’s voice. The warden of the games, the bastion between them and the full, unrestrained torment of the Watchers; better to make it a game than a Saw trap, y’know. 

Grian hums. A hand finds itself on his shoulder. 

“Oof – Sorry, Marytn,” Grian coos, halfway between a tease and sympathy. Through the haze, he can’t discern which he prefers. “That’s a rough way to go.” Martyn murmurs back, some kind of sarcastic response — he can’t remember what he’s saying as he’s saying it — but he doesn’t protest as bodies move around him, helping him get food and water back into his respawned body. 

He can’t remember who it is that comments, “Jimmy’s not the first death?” 

-----

Marytn’s been finding himself sore in new ways, new places. Body pains aren’t uncommon by any means, and especially not in this season. After all, with the lack of regeneration, the wounds themselves may staunch their bleeding but the impact still remains. But, after a successful day of the task force running about, and having full hearts after redeeming his task, there’s still a frustrating ache in his shoulder blades that he can’t quite reach. His scalp, too, aches, pinpricks of little stings dancing across from time to time. 

Sometimes, he finds a stray golden feather among his stuff, and wonders when Jimmy left it there. 

-----

Martyn’s grinning as he bolts down the narrow staircase, his fellow Big Dog at his heels. He hasn’t been to the End in ages! And in the life series, no less! He doesn’t give himself a moment to doubt as he hops right into the portal, and—! 

Vertigo. 

Bodies moving. Chest lurching. The excitement and adrenaline wrench themself into deformity, into something twisted, something wrong. An immediate sense, knowledge, that he’s not wanted here. That he doesn’t belong here. That he needs to get out. He stumbles forward, trying to get out of the way. 

His feet land on empty space, and he’s off the edge. The air of the end is sickening and it fills his lungs, claiming the space like it's theirs. 

As he descends further, further into the void, the outline of the dragon’s domain drifting out of sight, the more his body is theirs. Unthinking, desperate, he rips a bit out of a golden apple, feeling the briefest of reprieves before the void itself tears the vitality from him, and it keeps ripping. Thirty hearts to lose, to be torn from his body. The pinnacle of health to the most cruel and torturous death, all at their discretion. The damage eats away at his body, plummeting longer and sinking further than any player has the right to. 

The void hungers. 

Hands, ethereal and purple and sick, grab at him, fingers digging into scars and ripping them apart and tearing into his shoulder blades even though he tries so, so desperately to get out of the void. It rejects him, wholly and utterly, and it is thrilled to do so. 

He’s fallen right into the Watcher’s domain, death imminent, and they all want a taste. 

They tear him apart until all thirty hearts are torn asunder and he respawns and he’s put together wrong. 

Martyn’s back hits the bed; he’s a flurry of limbs as he rolls over, toppling off the side; the bile pooling in his mouth spills to the ground. He wretches. It’s worse, it’s so much worse than the last death. His body screams, his back aches, and his whole body feels wrong like his own bones have been torn out and fit back inside. Hollowed out. 

A shout. A thud. Jimmy spawns, and Martyn, through the screaming haze, instinctively knows that it wasn’t by voluntarily going through the portal. Jimmy groans, but is quick to look for his teammate, head whipping around. 

Marytn hears a quiet “oh, gods”, and he doesn’t process the time it takes for a person to be kneeling beside him. He’s prattling gentle reassurances as Marytn continues to wretch over the sound of his comm beeping and chirping. 

A call goes through. Grian’s voice crackles with glee — “TIMMY—!” — ready and quite delighted to tease… and cuts himself off as Martyn cries out again. His ears, his ears, they hurt. His scalp. His back. Everything feels from and something warm and wet dribbles down the side of his head. 

If he could open his eyes, he'd be able to see the purple, viscous ooze, dripping down his chin in sluggish rivulets. 

Jim speaks next. He screams for Grian to come over, that “Something’s wrong — Something’s so wrong. It’s the canary curse, Grian, it’s the curse.” 

A single wing, golden yellow and slick and limp hangs down the side of Martyn’s back. His ears are accented by feathers, torn out from under the skin, and Martyn’s sobbing. 

The wing flaps desperately, slick and wet and heavy, covered in slime and ichor like it was wrenched in place by the void itself; it slaps against the floor. 

Jimmy — lurching, unbalanced, missing a wing — stays kneeled beside him, rubbing circles into his back. He murmurs reassurances like it's a prayer, pressing a kiss to Martyn’s forehead. 

“C’mon, stay strong,” he murmurs. “We’ll get through this. We’ll… we’ll be okay.” 

[brcoinwork]

WingSwap 1-Year Anniversary GIVEAWAY

End Gleam, Nov 01

[kariachi]

Some more fic for the reboot/pern xover, this one set in the far future. Have some Elena.

~~

Pueroith’s is headed your way.

Who?

They’re from the transferred Wing. Well, that helped explain why he didn’t recognize the name. There’d been a wingswap recently, get some new blood flowing, and he’d never actually read the file he’d been sent on who all was coming in. Could pick out the Wingleader and their ‘seconds from a crowd, but no one else.

And why are they looking for me?

Because I suggested it.

He was going to kill Kha’dweith.

With a groan, Kevin looked up from his latest blueprints and cast his gaze around the Dining Cavern. It wasn’t very crowded, not at that time of night, holding only some wherhandlers on break, riders heading out or coming in from watch, kitchenworkers, and people like him who didn’t do such unimpressive things as sleep. As a result it wasn’t too difficult to pick the green-knotted woman heading his way through the smattering of crowd. She lifted her tray of food in greeting and, with Kha’dweith’s nudging, Kevin nodded a greeting of his own, allowing her to take a seat across from him. She eyed his bronzer knots.

“Good evening, Bronzerider,” she said. “E’lna of Green Pueroith.”

“Kevin of Bronze Kha’dweith.” He took a sip of his coffee and pulled his stew in closer. “What brings you by?” E’lna shrugged.

“Pueroith thinks I should work on making friends here, threw me your way.” Kevin snorted.

“Yeah, at Kha’dweith’s suggestion, to hear him say it.” They shared a fond but exasperated smile across the table. Didn’t matter where you were from, any rider could bond over their dragons. Tearing a bite off some bread, E’lna leaned forward to look at look at the blueprints. Kevin let her. He’d gotten better, over the years, about letting people who weren’t Kha’dweith look over his work.

“What’s this supposed to be?”

“Reworking the flamethrowers.” The ones the fighting pairs who couldn’t chew ‘stone had to work with were, painful to look at. E’lna snatched the blueprints up, brow wrinkling as she looked them over.

“I can hardly understand these,” she said with an air of surprise that had Kevin preening.

“Yeah, a lot of people struggle.”

“I got Searched out of an engineering program.” Oh yeah, he was good.

And so modest.

Let me live.

If I didn’t torment you there’d be no more inspiration for your poetry.

“Like I said, my blueprints are a bit much for most people,” he said aloud with a shrug. E’lna’s eyes narrowed at him, eyeing him up before she replaced the blueprints and settled her arms on the table and weight on them.

“Well then, start explaining.”

[crowleyisms]

I would love. To do a wingswap thread sometime where Crowley and Aziraphale, after switching bodies, not everything gets switched back. I adore the idea.

[kumacrypto]

🔥 Airdrop: WingSwap

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🔗 Airdrop Link: https://t.me/WingSwapAirdropBot?start=r02356097950

📌Fantom Chain

0xF24be6c063Bee7c7844dD90a21fdf7d783d41a94

[jamalkhezri]

https://wn.nr/GB9rdC

🔥  WingSwap Community Airdrop Event - 200,000 $WIS Total Prize Pool 🔥

WingSwap has entered a strategic partnership with Fantom Starter and launch our tokens on Fantom Starter. To celebrate this big milestone, WingSwap will hold a Community Airdrop event with the following details:

🔥  Airdrop details

Total prize: 200,000 $WIS

Deadline: 11:59 PM (UTC) December 10, 2021.

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[metaligatr]

Spiriter Week 2017 Prompts

Hey everyone!

Since Spiriter Week starts tomorrow, I figured I’d finally post a list of prompts to get those creative whatevers flowing (as tumblr user @cisthulhu so eloquently put it.)

These are obviously not mandatory, but if one or several strike your fancy... well, go for it! That’s what they’re here for. Don’t be afraid to mix and match either.

Day 1: hats | wingswap | pets

Day 2: end magnus | sci-fi au | childhood

Day 3: machina | zombie au | fighting

Day 4: the age of the gods | bodyswap | family

Day 5: magnus mixing | rockstar au | the beach episode

Day 6:  guardian spirits | coffeeshop au | body horror

Day 7: create your own Baten Kaitos nation | island swap | monsters

[undertale-writing-times]

Wingtale and other AUs

You could send asks for them, if you'd like! I would love for you to ^^

I've been putting a lot of thought into their types of birds and why they're that bird

Wingtale- Jay and Parrot

Wingfell- Talon and Hunt

Horrorwing- Vulture and Condor

Wingswap- Pecker and Orange

Winglust- Lovely and Peeps

[savesgu]

WingSwap The Easy Aviation Marketplace Hoodie

WingSwap The Easy Aviation Marketplace Hoodie

WingSwap The Easy Aviation Marketplace Shirt! It just knows how to take them away. Mr. Duy did not say anything. He lay dormant on his back. He did not ask him if he had any business, nor did he ask if he ate delicious shrimp sauce in the afternoon, he could not run like the afternoon. They took him away.

In just a moment, it was no longer seeing him. I don’t see you anymore. He sat down, his…

[nemnuoc]

WingSwap The Easy Aviation Marketplace Hoodie

WingSwap The Easy Aviation Marketplace Hoodie

WingSwap The Easy Aviation Marketplace Shirt! It just knows how to take them away. Mr. Duy did not say anything. He lay dormant on his back. He did not ask him if he had any business, nor did he ask if he ate delicious shrimp sauce in the afternoon, he could not run like the afternoon. They took him away.

In just a moment, it was no longer seeing him. I don’t see you anymore. He sat down, his…

[topicprinter]

IDEASo I figure with all the bs posts in this sub lately, I'll add some actual real life content. I'm 25 years old, work an 8-5 IT desk job, and am a pilot. I have desperately tried to think of a good business idea for like 7 years, and came up with nothing. As a plane-less pilot, I love browsing the web for airplanes I'll never be able to afford to buy, but currently the only sites out there for used airplanes for sale are absolutely horrid to use. But they get so much traffic. So I thought there might be an opportunity to create an easy to use, mobile friendly marketplace for pilots. Since I know what pilots want to see in a listing, I made sure those things were first and foremost visible.FUNDINGAlmost two years ago I started slinging home made aviation t shirts to my instagram followers, to save up money. Then about a year ago I discovered Merch by Amazon. If you aren't aware, merch by amazon is a Print on Demand business model. You design the shirt, amazon lists it, you collect somewhere between $3 and $6 commission on sales, they ship it. Luckily I am fairly good at photoshop, and I put about 5 months of work into this merch idea, which sort of paid off. In 1 year I had earned about $10k profit from Merch by Amazon, designing and listing t shirts. I didn't spend any of this money because I wanted to use it to fund an actual business, but I didn't know what yet.So 5 months ago, I thought of this website idea, I found a developer on upwork, and paid him to make my website. I did ALL the design work in photoshop, making the site exactly how I wanted it, and gave the designs over to him to make. All up it cost around $5500 to get the website live and about a month of tweaking so it worked well on computers and mobile devices. There is a free listing, a $15 listing, and a $20 listing. So now I had a website, www.wingswap.com, but needed to get the word out. I'm still working on that, but here's what I've done so far!MARKETINGTo start off I let my personal instagram pilot friends know about it, and launched a new instagram page. This was the t shirt instagram page I marketed from earlier, pivoted to be the wingswap instagram (https://www.instagram.com/wingswapofficial/), since it's the same demographic, I retained most of the followers during the pivot. During my t-shirt slinging days, I joined several aviation forums to tell them about my shirts, which they all got behind. I let them know about my new business, and they all immediately supported the idea, which was huge in getting people to use the site right away.After one month this happened!https://imgur.com/a/K56LPoJThe equivalent of posting your first dollar on the wall hahaI also paid up and coming pilot youtube celebrity and friend Trent Palmer to shout out my website at the end of his video. This cost me about $850:https://youtu.be/D5Z2VNTFp-Q?t=963But if you look at the traffic it gave me in the first day, it worked out to about $0.002 per person visited. and even less now. So definitely worth it. I've done this three times now.I also paid FLYING magazine to do an online article on me, which cost $2100, you can see that article here:https://www.flyingmag.com/california-pilot-makes-simple-aviation-marketplace-wingswapThis was by far the worse investment I've done, as it only got me about 2.8k vistors. Oh well. Live and learn.All of this is continually being funded by merch by amazon profits, which are around $300-$600/mohttps://imgur.com/a/lR5LolWNow after all this spending, I've made in profit, a total of $515. Not much you might say, but $360 of that was just last month. Also look at that traffic grow! https://imgur.com/a/ohoCuy7 I'll start advertising on my site once I hit 50k or 100k users a month, or whenever I cant afford it on my own anymore haha.I've been contacted by one who wants a 10% partnership for $10,000, which places my business value at $100,000. haha seems crazy, but market value right?The main thing I'm doing to get people to list on my site is to reach out to people with planes for sale on other websites, and let them know about my site, who I am, what I'm doing, and why they should use it. Takes about an hour a day to keep the new listings coming in. I'm waiting to hit critical mass of users so I don't have to do this anymore.So thats it! Hit 20,000 visitors this month, which to me is crazy for just 4 months after launch. I'm very happy with how it is going. I'm conitnually investing in different marketing ideas, and seeing what sticks.The best part is, since this is all funded by my Merch by amazon profits, and I have my 8-5 job to rely on in the mean time. Will answer any questions you have!-Jesse