Story Archive of Angels and Others

[Shawdios]

This is going to be an archive of my stories involving my OCs in my Angeltown universe.

VERY OLD WRITING AT THIS POINT. Take that into account when reading

(note: Porcilavians are a race I came up with and some of the race believes they are angels that need to purify themselves to get back into heaven. The others are often those who were/are ostracized for being "unpure" and demonic)

In order of age:

•bold = Porcilavian
•italics = half Porcilavian
•normal = any other race

Cupid (rabbitborn)

Ritz (dragonborn)

Annoyance. Three strikes

Oak

In a perfect world

Comet

In a perfect world

Rust

The Early Years. In a perfect world

Sugar

Sugarsugar

Star

People I don't like, in a perfect world

Moon/Rose

People I don't like

Sun/Ivy

People I don't like

Fall/Autumn

Sugarsugar, Wouldja like a drink?, The Early Years.

Holly

Hollyfire (AU)

Bezel (impborn)

James (wolfborn)

Three strikes

Rise/Icey

A Small List, Dont even know you, The Early Years.

Big/Flame (also known as Bigshot)

The Greatest Show[Angel], Hollyfire (AU), A Small List, Annoyance. Wouldja like a drink?, Don’t even know you ,The Early Years. Three strikes

Spice (half catfolk)

Hark

People I don't like

Sammy/Sam/Pale

Fly fly away, In a perfect world



I will be using Threadmarks to organize this thread, I’ll put the Names of the threadmarks that involve that character under the character’s name. do note, that the lore and such tends to shift over time, so if things dont line up, I apologize. I don’t exactly have a beta reader, so we die like Holly always will in the end.

i highly recommend you read in threadmark order for best enjoyment/least confusion, click reader mode to read in order.

 

[Shawdios]

‘A grain of sugar’


Sugar felt horrible.

She had seen one of the worst things in her life while heading home from her bakery; There was what looked like a young angel curled around herself in a side alley, the poor girl only had one wing. Sugar had no food or items on her to help, her bakery sold out quickly and she almost never had any leftovers.

It hurt so much to continue walking, and even more to see no-one else even notice or stop to help. Sugar comforted herself with the mantra of “I'll come back tomorrow to help, I'll save some bread to give them” on loop in her mind.

When she got home she tossed around the idea of taking the girl in, she definitely had the space. The two kids she had previously taken in and raised had both moved out two months ago, the house felt so empty with them gone. Tomorrow. She reaffirmed herself, tomorrow i’ll help her.

The next day, Sugar couldn't find the girl. She looked in every alley close to her bakery, but there was no trace of her. She needed to open up the bakery, she couldn't throw her time into looking right now. I’ll look harder once the business day is over. Sugar decided.

Throughout the day she had customers asking her if she was okay and every time she said she was fine, but the questions only put her in an even worse mood. That kid was living on the streets and no-one cared, yet if she was upset everyone jumped to help.

Sugar ended up closing the bakery an hour earlier than usual and slapping a hastily written “Closed early, Sorry for the inconvenience!” sign on the door.

She spent the rest of the day searching the streets of Angeltown for the girl she had seen, but yet again, there was no trace of her. There was no conceivable way the girl had left Angeltown, she only had one wing and the wall surrounding the town would require her to fly. But she hadn't searched the entire town yet, so she held out hope that the girl was still alive.

Sugar took a long way home and looked down every alleyway. Her legs were starting to ache, this was the longest she’d ever walked for since her childhood. The sky was pitch black, it was late in the night, and she rubbed her arms as a chilly breeze blew by. She immediately felt a spike of worry for the girl, Sugar preferred the cold but nighttime during the winter was too much, even for her.

Glancing up at a street sign, she sighed. She was at least a ten minute walk from home and it was freezing. Sugar hadn’t expected to be out this late so she hadn’t bothered to bring something for cold weather. She was severely regretting it now.

A few blocks later, Sugar noticed a bunch of feathers in an alley and— despite the weather— she sped over to investigate. With a sharp inhale she realized it wasn't a pile of feathers, it was a person huddling for warmth by wrapping themself with their wings. But there weren't two wings overlapping, it was just one stretched to block out as much wind as possible.

It’s the girl! It had to be, having one wing wasn't something normal. The girl was barely moving and did not acknowledge or react to Sugar lifting the wing up to look closer. The girl was unconscious, Sugar couldn’t tell what from but it was probably exhaustion. She hasn’t disappeared yet, she's still alive. The girl was cold to the touch and Sugar immediately decided to bring the child to her house. So she picked up the child bridal style and realized that flying would be the fastest way home.

She took off and flew as fast as she could to her house. Sugar could feel her wing straining to continue flapping and she barely made it home before it started to cramp. This was why she didn't fly often, she had a weak wing, she couldn't fly for longer than a couple minutes before it started to give out.

Quickly, she laid the girl on the couch and ran to find some blankets. Ignoring the cramping pain from her left wing, she grabbed a comforter from one of the bedrooms and bundled the girl in it. Cradling the girl close, so she could share her body heat with the child, Sugar muttered some healing spells to hopefully heal any injuries the girl could have.

Sugar’s thoughts wandered as she waited for the girl to wake. This poor girl, no-one even cared. How did she lose her wing? No angel would do that to someone, did that mean a demon was inside the town? Wouldn’t there be widespread panic? There hadn’t been a stump or any sign of removal, did she spawn this way? Sugar brushed the girl’s black hair out of her face. She had long black straight hair, it didn’t curl like Sugar’s did.

The girl had a dull white tone of skin with what seemed to be a tint of purple; All angels had porcelain-like skin with varying color tones, some had designs, most were solid colors. Sugar’s own skin was a dark, gray earthy tone, a few shades lighter than her hair— which was a faded coal black. The girl’s skin also looked rough and scratched up in some areas, like someone rubbed sandpaper on glass. Sweet light, I hope someone didn't do that exact thing to this girl, Sugar silently pleaded.

Movement broke her thoughts and Sugar noticed that the girl had woken up. The girl had opened her eyes and tried to move, but, because of the blankets, she couldn’t. Sugar winced at the jolt of her strained wing from the attempts to move, and tried to calm the girl when she chirped in panic.

*Where! Where?! Who!? Danger?! trapped?!*

“Hey, hey! It's okay, it's okay! You’re safe, I'm not going to hurt you, you’re in my house.” Sugar moved the bundled up girl off her lap and onto the chair as she reassured them. But the girl was still panicking and Sugar nearly slapped herself as she realized it was the blanket making the girl feel trapped.

She helped the girl out of the blanket and the girl, curling around herself in the chair and watching sugar closely, stopped chirping. Just how old is this girl? Sugar wondered.

“Can you understand what I'm saying?” she asked; angels who just spawned in couldn’t understand a spoken— not chirped— language till at least two or three weeks of hearing it, maybe earlier if someone was actively teaching them the language.

The girl nodded with a quiet chirp of confirmation.

“Can you speak?” The swiftness of learning how to speak differed as well, it mainly depended on the age of the body of the new angel. If you mentally were only two months old but physically were twelve years old, you were most likely able to learn how to speak faster than a mentally one year old but physically six angel.

There was a silent pause, the girl seemingly trying to find their voice.

“...y–es,” the girl answered, voice cracking and in a slightly deeper pitch than Sugar expected. It made her question the gender of the child; gender was a touchy subject in Angeltown because of the lack of ways to express it and the differing responses depending on the area of the town.

Sugar reined in her trailing focus and continued her questions.

“Do you know how old you are?” She doubted they knew, but anything would help.

“..Don’ know, could’n keep track,” they quietly answered. Sugar's heart wailed at the potential meanings and her wing throbbed in protest when she lifted them slightly.

“That's fine, that's fine, do you know how many winters you’ve been through?” Sugar asked and the child gave her a confused look.

“Cold seasons?” She further elaborated.

The child shrunk into themself, “But ain’t the world jus’ cold?”

Oh. they- they must have just spawned in. They couldn't be more than a few months old if they didn't know the days could get hot. Sugar wanted to cry for the second time today.

“No there’s-” she blinked away tears that threatened to fall, “there’s four seasons, ones really cold, ones really hot, and then the other two are just cool or warm, the really cold one is winter, the really hot one is summer, the cool one is fall or autumn, and the warm one is spring” she explained.

The child continued to stare at her and seemed to be processing the dump of information.

“I ‘member it bein’ na’ as cold an’ na’ bein’ as hungry” the child shifted in their seat, before adding, “there were alota voices i didn’ understan’ an’ i was bein’ moved aroun’ alot.” The child rubbed one of the rough patches on their face and laid their head on the arm rest.

“Ok, I’ll- I’ll go get something you can eat, st– stay right there,” Sugar said as she gave a vague stay motion, leaping out her seat and rushing into the kitchen as tears started to flow. Her empathetic heart couldn’t handle it any longer.

Sugar knew every angel had a rough few months when they spawn; She herself remembered the hungry days where everyone just walked by and didn’t care. She remembered the sweltering heat and the dizziness caused nausea that made her throw up whatever meal she found.

Luckily she had found someone who had cared enough to raise her if she helped with chores and worked for them.

Wrangling in her emotions and taking a deep breath to strengthen her tolerance towards her aching wing, she busied herself with making soup; soup would be warm and the best thing someone who’d been starving should have.

Sugar had no clue as to how long it had been, because her mind fell into habit, but it was apparently long enough for the child to get curious and follow her into the kitchen.

She only just noticed the child when she turned towards the counter for a stirrer and saw them peeking around the molding of the doorway.

Sugar let out a small laugh and asked, “Do you want to watch?”

The child froze, realizing they had been found out, but did give a small nod.

“Alright, pull a chair over to use as a stool”

The child quickly went over to the table and pushed one of the chairs over to the counter. Sugar smiled as the child climbed onto the chair and stood looking curiously at the pot.

“I’m making tomato soup, all I have left to do is stir it as it cooks but do you want me to tell you how I made it?”

The child rapidly nodded and chirped a conformation.

“Ok so…” Sugar explained the process she had gone through, the child staring at the pot throughout, and she emphasized the importance of proper kitchen safety; By the time Sugar finished, the soup was completed.

 

[Shawdios]

‘Killer in the mirror’


Ritz had told him that xe wanted Big to do xim a favor. After they had explained what exactly xe wanted him to do, Big felt like he was going to be sick. It took him a bit, and a few threats from the owner, to pull himself together.

He just hadn’t thought that this was what the favors were going to be.

So he found himself stalking the streets of the neighboring city, Beatuplo, with a knife up his sleeve searching for some sort of mugging or any other crime that would ‘justify’ the actions he needed to do.

“Anyone will do, I just want to be sure that you are serious and committed to performing here! Surely you understand?”

Big remembered the unsettlingly innocent tone in his new boss’s voice. Everything about Ritz creeped him out… but he signed a contract, he had to work for xim now.

A scream pierced through the air, and Big took off towards it, this was his chance! There were two Bugborn species in an alleyway, Big couldn't identify what kind of species they were, maybe a mutated ant? But the larger of the two, was pressing the smaller, a worker Bee species, against the wall and tugging at the smaller’s clothing.

Big acted before he could even think, he slid the knife down his sleeve and into his hand, flapped his wings to help launch himself at the large ant(?), and repeatedly slashed at the neck of his target. Dark, warm, and sticky liquid sprayed onto his arms, his wings, and his face, with each slash before the ant(?) threw him off.

Oh light, oh light, oh light, he just attacked someone. He was really doing this, he really was going through with this, he was killing someone, he was killing a living being.

He could feel the blood on him slowly dripping its way down his feathers and skin. It was like all his senses were being dialed to the max, he could smell the fear of the now bleeding out ant, he could smell his own thrill radiating from himself, he could hear every strained, drowning, breath the ant tried to take in, and the joy that brought him, he could feel his excitement from it.

“Oh my god, you saved me- you’re an angel? You must be some sort of a guardian angel!” The bee hugged Big, but he kept staring blankly at the body of the attacker. The rest of the praises from the bee he saved were tuned out of his mind, he just killed someone and he’d enjoyed it, he felt nasty, the blood on his skin felt like it was burrowing into his body—

The bee squeezed tighter, which brought him out of this spiral.

“I don’t even wanna think about what that disgusting mosquito would have done if you didn’t come to my rescue!”

Ah, that’s what the attacker was.

“Oh, it’s- it’s nothing really, I just heard a scream and rushed to help,” Big felt like his mouth was on autopilot, the words uttered without any intent of doing so.

He did, however, notice that this autopilot didn’t mention how he had been actively searching for these kinds of situations so he could kill people.

The person causing the pressure around his torso pulled away and gripped him by the shoulders, “Nothing?? You saved me! At the very least let me offer you the use of my shower?” the bee gestured to his blood soaked arms, “you ARE covered in blood after all?”

He was filthy wasn’t he? He doubted any shower could wash away the sin that covered his hands now, but… he probably should accept the offer just to be polite.

“Oh- yeah I really do need one don’t I? Ha.. ha..” Big trailed off, glancing down at his arms.

“Come on, I don't live too far from here,” they grabbed part of his sleeve that wasn’t blood soaked and led him to their apartment. A few people along the way gave him odd, and slightly concerned, looks, but other than that? No one ever stopped or bothered the pair as they made their way through the city.

Big knew that if he showed up in Angeltown looking the way he did, he would have been stopped and questioned immediately. Yet another wonder to Big that came from this city.

“Here we are!” The bee smiled, turning towards Big and gestured for him to enter. The apartment was small, but it had a cozy aura to it. The ant set their bag and keys on an end table to the side of the door and waved their hand to the right before heading into the kitchen.

“The bathroom is the last door on the right!”

The last door in question was slightly ajar. Big headed over to the bathroom, faintly calling out a thank you to the— oddly unbothered by the fact that they were letting a technical murderer into their home— bee before entering and firmly shutting the door.

The inside of the bathroom had a dull blue paint on the walls, and was sparsely decorated. The mirror, however, caught Big’s eye.

He really was a bloody mess, his hair had matted in places with dried blood, and there were multiple streaks of blood where it had dried and crusted on his face. His wings, which had stopped dripping blood at some point during the journey to the apartment, were in desperate need of preening and cleansing. His coat, however, looked the best out of all of him considering it already was a dark, near black, shade. It only had wet spots where it was darker than the original color.

He felt disgusting, he was disgusting. He quickly turned the sink on and scrubbed the growing filthy feeling off his hands. Only thing wrong was that it refused to come off. Sure the blood washed away, but the filthy feeling was there no matter how hard he scrubbed, nothing made the feeling stop. Even when he rubbed his hands raw it refused to curb. He decided that maybe it wasn't his hands that were causing the problem, maybe it was the fact that the rest of him wasn't clean.

So he turned on the shower, stepped inside without disrobing, and blasted his feathers with hot water. He bit down on his tongue to prevent the scream from escaping his throat. The water burned on his wings and the feathers were clearly being damaged but he didn't stop the barrage of boiling hot water till they felt cleansed. Finally, He found a way to make the feeling stop! It had to be hot water! He turned his attention to his face and hair. It would hurt, but it would make the nasty, icky, tarlike, feeling stop.

He started with his hair and at this point his hands stung horribly. He scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed at the filth until his hands couldn't take the abuse any longer and he finally, finally, felt clean.

Big's whole body screamed in pain but that didn’t stop his euphoria of finally feeling clean. Till he heard a knock on the door and remembered that, yes, he was in someone else's home and probably should head back to his own.

“You alright? You’ve been in there for nearly an hour,” An hour?! Holy-

He scrambled to get out of the shower and hissed in pain from just how much his body cried in agony.

“Yeah- yeah! I'm good! Just uh- lost track of time!” He called back quickly.

Big quickly wrung out his clothes the best he could and swore under his breath at his stupidity of wearing them in the shower.

“Towels are out here, i’ll leave you one in front of the door kay?”

“Yup! yup! thanks!” he winced when one of his wings brushed the wall while he was turning to the door. He cracked open the door to grab the towel, the bee was over near the couch, and quickly snatched the towel before retreating back into the bathroom.

He gingerly rubbed the moisture off of his, from what he could now tell, severely burned wings. The softness of the towel was greatly helping with preventing pain from the drying process, but it still stung where the worst burns were. There were blisters already forming under his feathers and it was going to be a rough couple of weeks if he couldn’t get Sammy to heal him without his brother questioning how the burns got there. Once his wings were adequately dry, he examined his oddly sensitive hands.

The top most, pure white, layer of skin had been harshly scrubbed away, revealing a dull, slightly pink, gray underneath. They screamed everything his skin registered to his brain and were trembling heavily. And like his wings, there were blisters littering the surface of his palms. Most of which had burst from his scrubbing and now bled.

What an odd feeling, seeing your own blood after knowing just how much a person could bleed. It wasnt green like the mosquito’s had been though. it was instead a dark crimson. He had bled before, crapes and accidents happened in a house full of rowdy brothers, but it was different to Big because it was his own blood and coming from his own skin.

He himself had done this.

He needed to get home before he thought too hard about how hurting himself made him feel better about killing. Big rubbed his blood off onto his, still soggy, ugh the water still didnt get rid of the smell of that mosquitos blood, coat and balled up the towel before stepping out of the bathroom.

He spotted the bee staring blankly at the not even turned on tv, and while Big probably should have been concerned he wasn't feeling enough emotion to really care anymore.

He cleared his throat, causing the bee to jump and snap towards him. Big held the balled up towel where they could see,

“Thanks for letting me clean up..I uh, gotta get home now..” he trailed off, hoping the bee understood the underlying question.

The bee rushed over and took the towel ball from him while responding,

“Oh, yeah, of course! Anyway, thanks for saving me!” they paused, throwing the towel into the bathroom, then turning towards Big. Damn, Big could have just left it in there.

The bee began to wring their hands, “No one ever really cares about us little guys, and keep walking if something bad is happening to us.. So, it really means a lot.” They finished with a awkward smile as they looked up at him.

He.. did not know that, Big hadn't even considered that people might not care about a certain species of people. It honestly was depressing, but he was too emotionally drained to truly feel anything at this point. So on his way out, he waved goodbye to the bee he had saved and headed home.

 

[Shawdios]

‘A Tentative—‘


Holly had run out of food in her fridge to throw together and eat. That meant she needed to go shopping and if she needed to go shopping, that meant she needed to leave the house. She didn’t want to do that because there was a demon on the loose in the nearby city and Angeltown was in shambles.

But if she stayed holed up any longer she would starve. Starving led to slowly withering away, withering away sounded painful and that wouldn’t be pleasant.

Deciding to put her trust in The Light, she sent a brief prayer and pulled her coat on. The air was freezing outside and the breeze quickly chilled her to the bone; she briefly longed for the ability of fire magic but quickly chased that evil thought away. Fire magic was the demons’ magic.

There were a couple shops down the street of her apartment that sold food and she hoped they weren’t ransacked already. Holly muttered a second prayer as she came up to the front of a restaurant. The name on the sign read, “Sweet as Sugar”. When she opened the door there was a twinkling noise that came from a tiny door chime and the clutter on the inside reminded her of a demon's abode which made her slightly on edge.

Holly crept around the front counter and checked the cabinets for any ingredients she could use to make anything with. There was a moldy loaf of bread and Holly frowned when she saw it before throwing it in the closest trash can. Disgusting.

Once she checked all the front cabinets, she moved to the kitchen and searched there. Holly had no better luck.

She tried to keep hope that the light would provide, but the past few months had been grating on her and left her questioning whether they were ever really worthy of the light. Every prayer she sent felt pointless. Every prayer was answered with silence or bad things. And now she was going to starve, because she had been afraid.

Why did this all have to happen? Why? Why damn it, why?! Holly fought the urge to cry and failed, her faith was waning and a part of her was disgusted with herself because of her dissident thoughts. Black inky tears fell down her face and left her cheeks feeling oily, she wanted to wash it off till she could carve a smile in her own face.

The twinkle of the door chime interrupted her breakdown and she looked up from her hands in terror. What if they attack her, what if it was the demon? She slowly crawled over to the edge of the doorframe and peeked around it.

Holly covered her mouth to prevent any sound from escaping her. It was Big. It was the demon, Big was the demon. She swiftly pulled away from the doorframe and went deeper into the kitchen.

She should have known he would become a demon. But she couldn’t hold herself to that thought, her mind drifted to the memories of the times they played together as kids. How she used to do plant devil magic with him. How she would hang out with his twin as well. How she had heard him devilishly sing once. Why did the memories feel like they were happy ones?

Slowly there was tapping noises of what sounded like heels echoing off the tile floor approaching the kitchen where she was hiding. But he didn’t enter; She heard him lay down and start…. crying?

Holly didn’t know what to do. Why should she care that a demon was crying? But she used to know him. They used to be such good friends? Weren't they? She didn’t know why she had been friends, he obviously had been a bad influence if she remembered doing demon plant magic with him.

So she sat there, her own tears drying on her face, and listened to Big cry. Holly rethought what she knew about him as she heard some of the things he wailed.

“I’m s0 s0rry.. I didn’t mean t0.. I just- I just- I-“

“I snapped- I snapped, I didn’t mean t0- I’m s0r—s0rry”

Holly had tried to make him see the light, and tried to correct his path. She convinced him enough to get him to start coming to church with her, but one day he suddenly stopped. She asked him why and to come back to it with her, he refused. When it became mandatory, he started sending hate filled glares her way. She only wanted him to be happy and help him banish his evil urges, why did he hate her for that?

She heard him shuffle, maybe he sat upright?

“Wa—water, I need— I need water”

Then there was the sound of him scrambling to get up and frantically moving. What in the world could he need water for? She heard him run into the kitchen,— sending her into a panic— try the sink, then let out a mild screech in frustration and rush out the door.

Her heart was pounding, she was terrified and shook up. He could have found her and maybe killed her. He was demonic and obviously unstable— why did she feel the urge to chase after him? No. No she is not going to do that. He could attack her and maim her. But they used to be friends- NO. She was going to walk home and pray till her knees hurt.

Then why did she find herself following him?

Why did she find herself watching as Big found a bucket, filled it with water, and scrubbed his hands with a piece of cloth till they bled?

Why did she stare wide eyed when he did the same with his arms, wings and legs?

Why did she watch in horror when he teared at his hair and started crying again.

Why? Why did she care about what was happening to a demon?

Maybe because he used to be an angel and her friend. She used to be his friend. Why did he hate her now? Did she even hate him?

A cough slunk up her throat and she tried to repress it. Holly backed away slowly but didn’t make it out of earshot before it forced its way out and caused a coughing fit. When it stopped, she looked up to see Big staring wide eyed at her… in- in terror? Why-?

Oh.

She had constantly reported him. He was probably terrified that she was going to report him again. He had hurt someone, that was plainly obvious. Why did she feel the need to protect him, or at the very least, turn a blind eye? The Holy part of her was screaming at her to report him. But a strange part cried not to. It cried to try and be friends again.

Holly turned and ran.

As she ran, she looked over her shoulder to check if Big followed her and she didn’t see anyone.

 

[Shawdios]

‘Altercation‘

Big and Fall were arguing again, Sam could hear it through his bedroom door and through the thin walls.

“The laws are stupid!”​

Sam hated when they argued. It always ended with Big ether running out of the house and Fall disappearing into his room, or Big screeching and storming to his room with a slam of the bedroom door.

“That doesn't matter! If you’re caught you’re still going to get punished!”​

Sam could always hear his older brother’s crying through the walls, whichever scenario it was.

“I’m not going to!”​

Every argument always started with BIg trying to sneak out of the house or planning to sneak out of town.

“You’re still risking our safety here!”​

“What safety!??”​

Sam preferred to submerge himself in a story so he could try and ignore the bitter feelings stewing deep in his heart whenever the arguments started.

“We’re forced into these idoitic laws and brainwashed into a cult!”​

Sam looked up from his book, there was a small pause in the argument.

“Well, at least we are alive-”​

“WHY ARE WE EVEN LIVING HERE?!”​

“YOU THINK WE WOULD BE HERE IF WE COULD LIVE SOMEWHERE ELSE?!”​

Where was Rise?

“YOU HAVE NO CLUE HOW HARD IT IS TO KEEP A ROOF OVER OUR HEADS!”​

Normally he’s? she’s? they're out there trying to defuse the yelling.

“THERE”S A FUCKING CITY A FEW HOURS FLIGHT AWAY!!”​

Oh wait, they’re out on a date.

“I'M NOT RISKING THE SAFETY WE HAVE HERE FOR A HELPLESS CHANCE IN A CITY!”​

Why hadn’t he gone out as well? He saw that Fall and Big were in pissy moods when Rise went out, why didn't he fly over to Hark’s place?

“I DON’T FUCKING CARE-”​

Big screeched out the ‘e’ and Sam expected him to run, but that apparently wasn't the case.

“ANYTHING IS BETTER THAN THIS GODDAMN CULT-TOWN!”​

Sam hated how things weren't always like this, he and his brothers used to get along so well.

“YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HAVE TO FEND FOR YOURSELF!”​

When did the happy days disappear?

“I DON’T CARE!”​

When did it become avoiding the next outburst?

“I JUST WANT TO FUCKING BE ABLE TO BE MYSELF WITHOUT WORRING IM GONNA GET PERSECUTED!” ​

Sam really wished he was at Hark’s house, being around hark always made him feel happy, warm and fuzzy inside.

“YOU THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE??”​

He wondered if he had a crush on Hark, how he felt could fit the descriptio—

“OH! OKAY! YEAH FINE, MR. ALCOHOLIC! WE’RE ALL BREAKING RULES!”​

...What?

There was pure silence coming from the livingroom and Sam slowly crept over to the door to listen better. But all he heard was footsteps and the slam of a door, presumably the front door judging on the direction it came from. Which was not odd, but as Sam slowly and quietly cracked his bedroom door open, he saw that it wasn't Big who stormed out this time; It was Fall. Big was staring, stunned, at the front door, wings pulled close and tucked close against his back.

Sam was torn between racing past his older brother to fly to Hark’s and continuing to hide in his room.

But Sam didn’t get to decide, as Big snapped out of whatever daze he had been in and turned towards the bedrooms.

Swiftly, Sam shut the door and winced at the jarringly loud click the door made. Now Big knew that Sam had been actively listening to the argument– not that he wouldn't have heard it anyway, but still. He nervously waited as the taps of Big’s heels approached his door. Sam didn’t want to talk to Big right now; he was too upset at Big to not start yelling. His brother knew that he hated being kept out of things, yet Big had known that Fall drank and had not told Sam.

The taps halted behind his door, and after what seemed to drag on into forever, they continued on to the next door. He didn’t hear a slam or a screech of frustration, only the slight creak of bedsprings and then silence.

Sam knew that the right thing to do would be to talk to his brother, but he was sick of this. Sick of the talking down to, sick of the hushed whispers, sick of the immediate stop of a conversation when he walked in that was about topics “too dirty for his pure ears,” and sick of people treating him like a toddler.

So he decided to go to the one person who didn’t do any of that.

He tiptoed out of his room and slipped out the front door. Fall was sitting on the porch, head in his hands. It was weird to look at his older brother with the knowledge that he was constantly drinking enough to be considered an alcoholic.

Sam half-didn’t want to believe it, to be honest. Fall never came home drunk, that Sam knew of. Nor did Fall ever seem to be drunk, again, that Sam knew of. But Big obviously had to have known something to prove their oldest brother drank and if it wasn’t true, Fall would have defended himself.

Fall looked up, noticing Sam's lingering presence and opened his mouth to say something but Sam cut him off.

“I’m heading over to Hark’s, be back tomorrow.” Sam paused and looked away from Fall.

“Good night,” He said, not caring if Fall approved, before flying off.

 

[Shawdios]

Big was odd sometimes and everyone worried about him. He never tells anyone about what happened while they were separated, and even Sammy had admitted some details. Rise just wished he would talk to them like he used to.

He would rant on and on about the smallest issue and Rise would listen intently to comfort him when he needed it.

But what Rise also missed was the closeness. They felt like they barely knew their twin anymore. The distance and emotionally absent interactions made Rise want to cry every time.

Why couldn’t things be like they were before? They had changed too, they knew that, but why couldn’t Big at least try to rekindle their bond? And over time they’ve noticed things about their twin. So, slowly, they’ve been making a list of his differences.

One, he never lets people other than him use anything sharp and if someone absolutely needs to, he leaves the room.

Two, he tears at his hair and scratches at his neck when he’s anxious. The turtle neck he constantly wears doesn’t fool them, they know Moon wears them to cover xeir neck too.

Three, he is very jittery and his hands constantly shake. Many things have been dropped and broken because of his unsteady grip. Everyone’s learned to not let him carry fragile things.

Four, he talks and argues with the air when he thinks he’s alone. James says to get Bezel when that happens. Rise is jealous of the bond the three of them seem to have. Why couldn’t they have that with their twin?

Five, he locks himself in his room randomly and refuses to talk to anyone. The entire time he does this, Rise sits outside their twin’s door and sings songs he wrote and showed them.

Six, they can’t leave him alone with water. He would scrub his hands and forearms till they were raw if someone didn’t stop him.

Seven, any time someone argues with him, he caves. Holly always gets her way with him, no matter what it was. And Rise knows it's coming from pure ignorance on her part, cause she’s never taken advantage of Big out of malice. But they wish the two would separate and take a break, what they have isn’t healthy.

And finally, Eight. He looks like a demon. There’s no extravagant answer to it, he’s got bat wings instead of angel wings, claws, fangs, black eyes with white pupils and is a hell of a lot taller.

They just wish that this list doesn’t grow any longer and if it did, Big finally talked to them and explained why.

 

[Shawdios]

‘—request?’

A few weeks later, Holly was counting the food portions in her fridge and pantry one late evening when there was a knock on her door. She looked up from the meticulous organization of the food and turned her head confusedly towards the door. Who would be visiting her while Angeltown was in shambles? She closed the pantry and locked it—Holly wasn’t an idiot, this person could be after her food— before walking over to the door and opening it a crack.

She was slapped with the sight of Big, fidgeting, tapping his foot, and combing his claws through a small bit of his hair. Why, in the name of the light, was he here?? What did he want? Why her?? he was kinda hot. He noticed her peeking through the crack and his wings drew closer to himself. What, was he nervous? Holly would have let out a laugh if the demonic look of Big hadn’t put her on edge. She decided to put an end to the tense silence.

“Why. Are. You. Here?” Holly hissed out of clenched teeth. It seemed to catch Big off guard and he stood there, blinking, for a few seconds.

“I- I… don’t know where else to go..?” He eventually responded, wringing his hands nervously.

Now it was her turn to stand there and blink. Why would he go to her for anything? She could report him again, she really could. The holy part of her was screaming at her again to report him, along with that strange part of her crying back not to as well.

“Why?” She asked, still only having the door open enough to look at Big. His face turned dark and he looked away— Holly noticed his hands were shaking.

“Because the enforcers are hunting for me and I don’t think they’ll let me leave Angel Town alive,” his voice trembled a slight bit at the end. Holly didn’t know what she should do, was she really going to hide a demon from the Head Angel? The holy part insisted that she just shut the door and fly out the window to report Big’s location to the priests. But the strange part was asking if she really would condemn someone to death, and if she could live with that.

He was a demon now, there was no redemption for that. But just because he was a demon didn’t mean he was an animal to be put down.

Maybe if she hadn’t known Big before he was a demon, maybe if she hadn’t seen the breakdown he had, maybe she could have shut the door and reported him. But she did know those things and she longed to get the friendship they had back— when had she started longing for that?

Holly sighed before closing the door, and unhooked the lock that wouldn't have let it open further.

“Get inside,” she said stiffly, stepping to the side as she reopened the door. She internally was screaming at this stupidity, but she kept it off her face. Big's face had practically lit up when she reopened the door. He quickly entered and got out of her way so she could close the door behind him.

Her apartment was small, just enough for herself. She had moved into the place just a few years ago and Holly’s heart panged when she remembered why. Immediately, her holyness guided her and she spun in a circle for a minute to forget what had upset her. Big stared at her with an unreadable expression and his mouth pressed into a line when she did this. She also sent a small prayer and afterwards she noticed Big’s face flash with some sort of emotion she couldn’t pinpoint.

“What?” She snapped at him, feeling a little embarrassed. Everyone at the church meetings was told and encouraged to spin and pray when they remembered painful things. Something he should know and in her opinion do as well, spinning was calming.

“Nothing,” he huffed before looking away and scanning over the rest of the apartment he could see.

She felt extremely uncomfortable now, he obviously knew what she was doing and why. If he was a true church member she wouldn’t have felt uncomfortable, but he wasn’t.

“I'm gonna just.. lay down? It’s uh- it’s been a long day?” He muttered, looking over at the sofa before looking back at her.

“Sure whatever, I’m gonna be in the kitchen.” Holly responded as she walked past him. Drained, she sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and laid her head on the table.

Holly didn’t understand why Big left the church— before it became mandatory— and refused to go back for the meetings. It was so friendly! It helped her find the evilness in herself and tear out its vile seed! Big’s evilness obviously had consumed him and she felt a wave of guilt at that thought. She could have tried harder, or tried to convince him with a different way that could have worked better. She knew that every time she reported him for the infractions he was forced to spend time in the church but none of it ever made him realize the evilness in him.

Holly’s stomach growled, but she ignored it. She could only eat once per day or she would run out of food within a month. She was used to ignoring hunger, the church told everyone to eat only two meals so you could be more Pure. Her stomach growling was a good thing.

Holly vaguely remembered a time when she was younger and would constantly eat sweets given to her from somewhere. She felt disgusted at the idea of her eating so much and even started to feel sick.

She got up to spin but nausea hit her and she rushed to the trash can.

Throwing up was a horrible experience when your stomach was already empty. You feel the need to eject something from your stomach, but there isn’t anything to get rid of but bile and bile burned when it came up. Not only that, but you’re stuck retching and heaving until your stomach settles back down.

There was tapping coming up behind her and she tried to wave a hand to get Big to go away. She could feel the concern radiating from Big, but he didn’t come close enough to touch her and she was grateful for that.

When Holly finally stopped dry heaving, she sat, wiped her mouth with her sleeve— she’d wash it later— and looked over at big.

“I’m fine,” she said shakily.

“You sure..?” He asked, fiddling with a button on his sleeve.

“Yeah I’m-“ she was hit with more dry heaving and Big rushed to help her hold back her hair. Which didn’t help her disgusted feeling by knowing that his Demonic self was touching a part of her.

Slowly, Holly stopped heaving and wiped her mouth again. She slapped Big's hands away from her and he withdrew quickly to the place he had been standing before.

“Are...you okay?” He eventually asked, resuming his fidgeting.

“I said I’m fine” she spat, annoyed that Big was breaking everything she thought about him, he was concerned for her even though he was a demon. Big looked like he wanted to say something else, but he must have thought against it.

Holly glared at Big as he walked away and looked over his shoulder at her. She hated how Big felt the need to help. She hated how Big wanted to help. She hated how Big knew she didn’t want his help.

She uttered a prayer for his soul.

But what did Big know anyway? It’s not like he threw up at the thought of stuffing himself or at the mention of the sugar count in something he just ate. The demon still tried to help her though, doesn’t that count for something?

Holly stood while brushing herself off and sighed when she felt the dampness of her sleeve. That was going to need to be washed quickly, and she also needed a shower.

Shaking her head in resignation, she headed towards the bathroom. Big was distinctly out of sight on her way there. She pushed the thought of him away and focused on getting the shower ready. The jacket went straight into the sink and the rest of her clothes onto the floor.

She avoided the mirror and started the shower. It took a small bit for the water to warm, but once it did it felt amazing and so refreshing. Holly sent a prayer of thanks as the water poured over her. She took her time washing up, not wanting to leave the pleasant warmth and deal with Big. But she did finish eventually.

When she was done, Holly felt incredibly refreshed and her spirits had risen significantly. After wrapping herself in a towel she peeked out of the bathroom and didn't see Big anywhere, so she dashed to her room.

It was late and she was feeling extremely tired, so why not go to sleep? I’ll deal with him staying here tomorrow. Holly told herself as she dressed herself for bed and tried to sleep.

 

[Shawdios]

People i don't like​

Across the party room, Moon was laughing at a joke Fall made. Sun grimaced as they watched Moon flourish in the stress free atmosphere.

How did Moon just… move on? Why did being out of CA not tear them up inside too? Everything was different out here, and no matter how much Sun tried, they couldn’t relax. And as wrong as it was, Sun longed to be back at CA. It had structure and a reliable schedule for when the horrible times would hit. Out here? Sun had no clue how the next day would go. A storm could hit and knock out the power, their job could fire them, or maybe they’d get run over while running errands.

Anything and everything could go wrong out here, Sun couldn’t keep track of all the things to worry about. At CA all they had to worry about was staying pretty, pleasing people, and who would be rough or violent. Sure, some things were unpleasant, but at least it was predictable. Sun knew the “song and dance” there.

So why did Moon’s face light up more often out here? Why wasn't this affecting them the same? Why did Moon love the unknown? The unknown was terrifying. The devil you know is better than the one you don’t, y’know?

The approach of someone broke Sun out of their thoughts. Oh sweet light, here comes that banana colored demon hunter or whatever.

“So, ah, how's the party?” The hunter asked awkwardly once standing beside them. Seriously? Is this some shitty attempt at flirting? Sun barely knew him. What warranted this hunter to even think of approaching them?

“Just peachy” Sun grumbed before lifting their cup of potentially spiked punch to drink. The hunter eyed said drink warily, seeming to instinctively be suspicious of party provided drinks.

The two stood in awkward silence. Neither really having any urge to make small talk. Sun just wanted to be left alone, the party’s music reminded them of the nights they danced while being degraded by catcalls and aroused viewers. The line of thought only led to even more unsavory memories they wanted to keep buried.

Sun was also acutely aware of how many exits there were and just how many people were close enough to grab them. The hunter specifically put them on edge because of Sun's unfamiliarity with him and their unsureness of his intentions.

Finally snapping at the stress, Sun sharply turned to the hunter.

“What do you want?” They growled, clutching the cup of most definitely spiked punch tightly. The hunter was taken aback by the sudden question and took a second to process.

“You looked like a wallflower, i was jus’ tryin’ to socialize with ya.” He explained, glancing over to someone extremely pale with frizzy hair dyed black at the ends. Sun doubted the hunter came over to socialize, why pick the most miserable person to try and talk to instead of the more talkative ones like Fall and Moon?

Sun rolled their eyes, “Wouldn't looking like a wallflower imply that i didn't want to socialize?” they retorted with a glare.

The hunter sighed, “I s’pose..” before looking away to the frizzy haired person and leaning against the wall.

And back to awkward silence they went. Sun opted to just watch the hunter, who seemed to be using them as an excuse to watch frizzy hair without looking like a creep. Maybe the two are ex’s? Sun couldn’t tell the gender of frizzy hair so they were unsure of the hunter’s orientation and, because of that, whether or not to be worried about themself.

Judging on the slightly dreamy and pained look to the hunter’s eyes as he watched frizzy hair, the two were probably ex’s. Frizzy hair looked happy talking to an orange furred catfolk man, but he looked over to them every so often and the hunter quickly turned his gaze away each time. Definitely ex’s.

Deciding to enjoy themself— they were standing right next to a hottie, why not take the chance— Sun downed the rest of the spiked punch and tapped the hunter on the shoulder.

“Wanna make them jealous?” they smirked, tilting their head towards frizzy hair.

“Wha? N—no?! I—“ the hunter floundered, glancing over to frizzy hair once before looking back to them, “me and him—“ ah the ex is a guy, then this shouldnt be too hard to get to work, “—weren’t evah a th—thing”

Sun quirked a brow. Really? The two were really giving off ex energy.

“I beg to differ, you’re watching him like he’s lightsent and so I'm guessing he broke up with you”

The hunter flushed, “….yea” he eventually mumbled, shifting awkwardly and looking to frizzy hair.

“Then I repeat my offer,” Sun leaned to the side and blocked the hunter's view of frizzy hair, “wanna make him jealous?”

The hunter took a while to think, and Sun’s buzzed brain got impatient. So, they wrapped their arms around the hunters neck and kissed him. But the hunter did not react the way they thought he would and pushed them off. Thinking it was just the hunter being nervous, Sun started the kiss again and grabbed the hem of the hunter's coat collar to pull him close.

“The hell?! Get off’a me!” He exclaimed, pushing them off a second time and taking a few steps back. Sun paused, confused. What? This guy was obviously lonely and missing his ex, Sun wasn’t bothered with being something to make the guy feel better.

“I’m not lonely in tha’ way” objected the hunter, oops did they say that out loud? What did that punch get spiked with, holy crap, they feel good. The hunter stared at them, somewhere between disgusted, concerned, and embarrassed.

“What's going on?” Asked a third voice, causing Sun to jump and instinctively whip their arm towards the voice. The back of their fist connected with the person's face but Sun didn't get to see who before the hunter stepped in.

“Wha’ the hell’s your problem??” He yelled, grabbing their wrist and spinning them back towards him. Who did they hit? Shit the hunter’s pissed, was he going to hit them in revenge? Who did they hit? Sun looked back at the person and their stomach coiled. They had hit frizzy hair, no wonder the hunter’s pissed. They squeezed their eyes shut and prepared themself for retaliation.

After a few seconds of Sun’s continued panic fuelled silence, the hunter let go of their arm and instead focused on frizzy hair.

“Are you ok?” He asked, tentatively standing beside frizzy hair.

“Yeah..” frizzy hair responded, he had his hand over his left eye, and Sun felt horrible. The two didn’t seem like hateful ex’s and here they were pushing themself onto one then, albeit accidentally but still, punching the other. The room felt too small and Sun felt too many eyes on them. Everyone was too close. They needed out.

Sun backed away from the ex couple and practically ran to the nearest exit. They caught a glimpse of Moon and heard xem call out as they left but Sun didn't pay xem any mind, more focused on their embarrassment and getting away from all those staring eyes.

 

[Shawdios]

The chill of the air nipped their skin as they pushed open the door, letting it slam shut behind them as they caught their breath. Sun put their head in their hands. Oh light, why did they have to go and do something so damn stupid!? They should have waited for the guy’s answer, if they had, they would have known the guy hadn't been wanting that. But noooo, they had to be impatient and literally push themself on him. Screw whatever that punch was spiked with, they shouldn't have let how good it made them feel affect their thinking so much.

They messed up, they messed up so bad.

The creak of the door opening and shutting cut their thoughts off. Sun looked up and saw Star standing beside them.

A few minutes went by, and, “I get it” was all she said before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, leaving Sun confused. Star was the most adjusted to life outside of CA, hell, she had a girlfriend now, what did she mean?

Star seemed to realize how cryptic she had been and elaborated, “I meant, I get wanting a distraction from it all” she lit a cigarette and took a breath before continuing, “That's why Rise suggested throwing the party isn't it?”

Sun couldn't help but stare in confusion, Rise was the one who suggested the party? They hadn't known that.

“I didn't mean to punch that guy, i just-”

“Thought that someone was going to trap you?” she finished.

Sun looked away. She could always read people well.

“Well,” She took another breath of the cigarette, Sun cringed and pulled their shirt up to cover their nose as the breeze blew the exhaled smoke in their direction, “don't feel too bad, you probably jump started those two’s relationship, from what i heard, they’ve been dancing around each other for years”

Sun couldn't help but laugh, sweet light they had gotten the situation so wrong. The two must have broken up unwantedly, and had no clue how to start their relationship again. Speaking of which…

“How’s you and Sugar going?”

Star grimaced and let out a puff of smoke, which told them all they needed to know. The two fell into silence as Star finished her cigarette. But Sun’s mind drifted towards what had been bothering them ever since Moon and them had moved. Sun wanted to talk about it so much, but they didn’t want to hurt anyone by telling them. Star would understand, right? She would understand why they would want to go back, why they would miss being at CA, wouldn't she?

“Have you ever…” Sun trailed off, nervousness of offending their friend overwhelming them. Star looked at them inquisitively with a raised brow.

They took a deep breath to calm their nerves. “...Wanted to be back… there?”

Star looked away with an unreadable expression before leaning against the wall. All they could hear was the vague sound of music from inside the house and crickets from the bushes.

“...No” eventually came her quiet answer and Sun felt their heart drop, “And, I understand missing the comfort it had even through all the shit there.” Star waved her hand vaguely as she spoke.

“...But?”

Silence.

Her voice wavered as she turned to them and spoke, “...You do know what Rise had to put up with there, right?” the unspoken ‘what we all had to put up with there’ was understood. But Sun’s buzzed mind instead latched onto the anger and hurt that bubbled up.

“I had to put up with that shit too!” they cried.

Star watched them carefully, “you had your skin shattered if you caused the slightest issue?”

They wanted to feel empathy towards Rise right now, Sun really did. What Sun went through was nothing compared to them, but all the hurt from everyone expecting them to feel okay when they weren't was flooding out of them.

“Does what I had to put up with not matter? So what if I miss knowing how my day would go and knowing my life was stable? Does it matter?!” Sun was sobbing at this point, it was all flooding out, “Does how I feel not matter?!”

Star reached towards them, “I didn't mean–”

“I know Rise went through horrible things that my shit can't even hold a candle to! But it all still hurts! It hurts so fucking much and i dont know how you and Moon handle everything being so– so- normal—” their voice cracked, “—and different!!”

Their words dissolved into wails as Star stood there, unsure of what to do.


*+=+=oOo=+=+*


She hadn’t thought Sun was struggling so much. She was struggling herself, shouldn't she have known just from that alone? She thought they were doing alright. Which, She supposes, was the problem. Wasn't it?

Star pursed her lips and sat down next to Sun. She’d offer a smoke, but she knew them and Moon didn’t like the habit. She’d been in this situation before with Rise, why couldn't she figure out how to comfort Sun? Maybe because she didn't really do anything but pass on a bad habit to Rise last time.

A hug likely wouldn’t help, not with the cause of Sun’s hurt being what it was. The cause of both of their hurt. But she did know that Sun preferred physical comfort. So, Star settled on wrapping her arm behind them and rubbing their back as Sun continued to cry.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know you were still hurting too” she murmured to them and they curled towards her. Sun’s wails eventually died out and turned into sniffling and hiccups after they wrapped their arms around her side.

The cha-chunk of the door broke them out of their mood.

They both looked up towards the person leaving the building. Star recognized him as Rise’s twin as he rubbed his face tiredly and leaned against the space next to the door after pulling off a pair of earmuffs with his hands blatantly trembling. He then froze and awkwardly waved with a sympathetic gaze when he noticed them. Star could feel Sun’s face heating up with what she presumed to be embarrassment, so she awkwardly waved back.

'Do not bother us please' she signed to him, hoping he understood the language since his twin used it.

He shakily signed back that he wasn't planning on it, or at least that's what it seemed to be what he signed, and put his earmuffs back on. Sun had stopped sniffling by this point and pulled away from her. As the two of them stood back up, Star heard the flapping of wings as the twin left.

“I'm gonna go home now,” Sun whispered.

“I'll walk you, Cupid may be gone, but it’s still night time and you’re buzzed” she replied, grabbing Sun’s hand and flicking her wing at theirs. Sun let out a soft laugh and nodded with agreement.

“Rise would probably have our heads if i walked home alone, that or they’d freak out and lecture us for who knows how long”

Star couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“You sure you don't want to wait for them and Moon?” she asked as they started walking towards the apartments.

Sun shook their head, “I'm tired, that guy had the right idea” they gestured to where Rise’s twin had been.

“Alright then” she sighed, and the walk continued in content silence.

 

[Shawdios]

Annoyance.​

Ritz wasn't a friendly boss. Big had first hand experience with that. But even so, Big could tell that out of all the actors, singers, and performers that Ritz endorsed, he was the Dragon’s favorite.

He knew he got special privileges. How he always got the first pick of roles and shows was obvious. There were stage hands that favored him over others. How quickly Big was growing in fame compared to the other starting performers.

Why Ritz favored him? Big had no clue. He really wished he did. Maybe it was his species? How he looked? Was it his personality? The leverage Ritz had with him…? Big slowed his pace towards his boss’s office. Was it really how easily Ritz could wave harming his brothers in front of his face to get him to cooperate? It couldn’t be. There had to be more to it than that. Just because he could be pushed around easier didn't mean he deserved favoritism.

The phone Ritz demanded he had on him at all times pinged again. It was a message from a secretary to hurry to Ritz’s office, or he would be late.

And Ritz despised tardiness.

With a deep breath to settle his nerves, Big walked as fast as he could without running to Ritz’s office.

When Big was sent in by the secretary stationed just outside their boss’s office, Ritz wasn’t actually there. The office was empty, as far as he could tell.

“Ritz?” he called out. Was RItz toying with him? Big knew Ritz liked to do that with all the other performers.

“You needed me?” he added, wringing his nerve damaged hands unknowingly. Since his boss didn’t answer him, he assumed Ritz was out and was probably testing his patience. So, Big sat down in the non-boss chair and looked around the office. There were various photos of past stars that performed at the theater. Ritz’s chair was spun around, he couldn’t see if anyone was sitting in it. Maybe, Ritz was sitting there and was waiting for him to do something wrong? He didn’t know, but if Ritz was testing his patience, he would wait.

As time ticked on, Big grew more and more restless, starting to bounce his legs. When he bounced his legs, the heel of his feet tapped the hard tile with a satisfying click. So, he continued bouncing his leg, but to a beat in his head to entertain himself and spun in the swivel chair as well.

Then, he heard his boss’s voice snap out, “Would you quit that infernal tapping?!” with the swish of a chair being spun around.

Big flinched harshly. Frozen with terror, he sat there, spun towards the door with his back to where the Dragon was. Shit. Shit. Shit. Ritz hated his fidgeting. Shit. Don’t move, don’t tap.

“S-sorry,” he mumbled, scratching his forearms to ease the urge to bounce his leg again, “i’ll–”

“Sorry, what?” Big heard his boss hiss, and the creak of the chair behind him leaning forward.

He clenched the sleeves of his suit with his shaky hands, “Sir.” he squeezed his eyes shut, “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Look at me when i'm speaking to you,” Ritz clipped back curtly, and Big heard the Dragon lean back. Big spun the chair around and dug his nails into his legs to keep them still.

“Thank you,” Ritz grinned smugly. He stood and walked around his desk to get in Big’s face, “if I catch you doing that again?” Ritz reached for Big’s turtleneck and pulled him up out of his seat with a fang filled sneer, “you will never be able to move your legs again once i'm done with you, understood?”

Big nodded, hanging limply in Ritz’s grip.

Ritz dropped him back into his seat then returned to his own.

“Now, I'm sure you want to know why I wanted to talk to you?” Ritz asked, a sickly innocent tone dripping off his words. Big was still shaking and terrified from the threat. He was too focused on doing everything he can to not tear at his hair, scratch himself, or light forbid, bounce his legs or tap his fingers, to give a response.

“Bigshot, you better answer me” came Ritz’s annoyed hiss.

Big could only manage a whisper, “Sorry…”

Ritz raised a brow.

” …S-sir.” Big hastily added.

“Good, What did I ask you?”

“Wh–whether I wanted to know why you wanted to t-talk to me?” Big tryed, after taking a few seconds to think, hoping he answered right.

His boss grinned happily, “Yes, good job, do you want to know?”

Big nodded again and Ritz’s grin grew. A weight lifted off of Big’s chest, Ritz was happy, he did well, just don't do anything else to upset Ritz and he’ll be fine. Yet again digging his nails in his legs to keep himself from bouncing them, Big listened carefully to the show plans Ritz decided that Big was going to be needed in.

“–and that's it, You can go.” Ritz finished, patting Big– who couldn’t help but stiffen– on the shoulder as he passed by. His boss went over to a cabinet and pulled out a thin box. Big recognized it as a cigar box, and so he made sure to high tail it out Ritz’s office. Lest Big anger him by being around when the Dragon wanted to relax.

The secretary posted outside the office gave him a sympathetic look, which he hated receiving. He wasn't a thing to pity, he knew what the secretary thought went on behind those closed doors.. Yes his wings were trembling out of fear. Yes he knew how ruffled and messed up his suit was from being pulled out of his seat like that, along with the rumors it would cause that were so humiliatingly far from the truth.

He knew what pleased Ritz and kept his boss happy, and it wasnt what all the gossips thought Big did to please Ritz, it’s his own fault when Ritz got upset with him. He knew that his fidgeting annoyed and pissed Ritz off. Why couldn't he just stop doing it? He’d been trying to break the ‘bad habits’ for nearly half a year now, why couldn’t he control himself?

Sweet light, he was fidgeting right now! Big dropped the pen he’d picked up somewhere at the start of the walk back to his apartment. At least Ritz didn’t want him to reprove himself for the smallest things anymore. Only being late was the remaining minor thing that caused that. And no, it wasn’t, proving himself with… that. All those gossipy bitches can go shove their lies up their ass, since that’s what they always seemed to think about Ritz just wanted to know if he’d be willing to kill to keep his brothers and fame safe. At first it had been just for fame. But then Ritz decided that it wasn’t enough of a motivator.

So now here he was.

Locked into this performance made of fear and death.

 

[Shawdios]

'smells like lost memories and denial'


The next morning, she smelt something cooking as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. who…? Oh, yeah, Big. He’s staying here till he can leave town safely…


And he’s apparently cooking?

She frantically tore the covers off of herself, tripped as she leapt out of her bed, then wrenched her door open. Taking off through the living room, she slid around the corner and nearly crashed into the end table.

Only to find the demon pushing a sizzling egg around in a skillet he was holding up in his left hand. He blankly stared at her, watching her frazzled state as she held onto the door frame for support and breathed heavily.

“...What?” Big asked confusedly, sliding the pan off his left palm and onto the stove.

“You– you cook?” she asked between breaths. Last time they tried to cook, they set the kitchen on fire— Why did she think that? She’s never seen him cook before. She only knew him from when they were young kids and he was much too young back then to cook. Did she just not remember? Why would she just forget something like that then? She wasn't friends with Big when he would be trying to cook so she couldn’t have–

“–ou alright? Holly?”

“Huh?” she snapped her head up. Big was turned towards her instead of the stove, worry clear on his face.

“You okay? You… spaced out?” he wrung his cracked hands as he spoke, rubbing them together and twisting them, intertwining and untwining his fingers.

She tore her focus away from Big’s hands, “Yeah I'm fine?” so she spaced out or whatever, it's not an issue. BIg slowly turned back towards the skillet and flipped the egg, not stealthily at all watching her from the corner of his eye.

“I thought you couldn’t cook?” she asked, realizing she never got an answer. Then sat down at the kitchen table as he picked up the pan and held the bottom in his left palm.

He cocked his head, pausing slightly before replying, “Why’d you ever think that?” she must have still appeared confused, because he elaborated, “My brother taught me and Rise so we could make ourselves dinner if he got home late, and i made food for us when you used to come over”

She frowned, “I don’t know, I just thought you were a horrible co–” then paused, rubbing her eyes and pressing her temples as the tapping finally got to her. As he'd been cooking, Big had been bouncing one of his feet rapidly with an annoying as hell ‘tap tap tap tap tap–’ tapping sound each time his heel reconnected with the floor.

“...sweet light, did you always fidget so much?” she snapped at him.

He froze and halted all movement, startling her with how stiff and still he went. She heard him mumble a quiet “sorry” and continue cooking the egg silently and unmoving. Oddly, the still version of Big unsettled her more than the fidgeting had bothered her. It was like a switch had been flipped, and the personality Big had was gone.

“Hey, look, i didn't mean you had to stop, i just,” she stumbled on her words, “...just was..” she couldn’t salvage this. Oh Light, please let Big forgive her. She thought, sending a silent prayer.

“No, it’s–” he sighed, “I get it, it's annoying, sorry, i won't do it as much” his words were clipped and sharp, but his wings were tense and quivering slightly. Betraying Big’s mask of emotions.

His fidgeting was annoying, she wouldn't have snapped at him if it wasn’t, but if this is what he was like without it? She’d rather deal with the click of his heels than the tension in the air right now. But there wasn’t really anything she could do to reverse the effect her snapping at him had—

Wait.

Why didn’t she feel as disgusted towards him as she did last night?

Holly felt a sudden bit of horror with the realization of how quickly her guard had lowered. Was it from how domestic the situation she found him in was? Or because she knew him as a kid? Already, red flags about letting Big stay were presenting themselves. It hadn’t even been a single day and, sure, she still didn’t want to touch him, but the idea of him feeling uncomfortable was something she found unpleasant.

Meanwhile, unknowing to her spiraling crisis, Big continued to cook. The only thing breaking past her thoughts being when he placed a plate with the cooked egg on it in front of her.

“Do you want it?” he asked, still noticeably stiff, “I saw how you kept the food listed and counted, so I only cooked one for myself since I figured you were rationing everything.”

He picked up on the fact she was rationing just from how she counted everything? And he kept it in mind? She was finding it more and more difficult to find reasons to view him as a demon still.

She pushed the plate towards him, responding politely, “No, I'm good, I'll eat later.” not wanting to eat something he made and hurt his feelings by telling him that. She may have warmed up to him strangely quickly, but that doesn't change how she felt towards food and coming in contact with him.

“Oh. okay.” Big said awkwardly, unsure of what to do, “then can i have it, i guess?”

“Yeah?” she laughed, tilting her head inquisitively. Did he not think he could have it? She thought that it was pretty obviously implied that he could since she pushed it towards him. The lack of fidgeting was still plainly present and made her feel a bit bad.

Big then sat across from her and tore off a piece to nibble on, distinctively avoiding looking at her. It was only then did he start to bounce his leg again. She lifted her head from leaning on her hand at the click of his heels, causing him to freeze again and stop. Holly sighed, she was feeling really horrible for snapping at him now. For whatever reason why, her snapping at him left an extremely strong impression on the demon across from her.

Finally giving in to the urge to get away from the tension in the room, “look, you can fidget and stuff, it's not that big of a deal to me, I'm not going to do anything if you do” she told him, then walked to the doorway. It didn’t help as far as she could tell though. Then, she sighed and left the kitchen to get ready to go run her weekly errands.

“Don’t leave the apartment!” she called from the bathroom while putting on the bare minimum of makeup so she wouldn’t seem as underweight as she was. She didn’t receive a response, but she heard him washing the dishes he used as she left, not thinking much of it.

 

[Shawdios]

'Hurt'

By the time Big reached Angeltown it was near dawn, it had taken far longer for him to walk than fly and he was ready to pass out from the extra exertion. But he had to get home first.

Big found himself staring up at the wall in his way. When he had snuck out he had flown over it, but now he could barely move his wings let alone fly. Every time the wind caught his wings, it sent a wave of fiery pain throughout them.

So he was stuck. He couldn’t fly, and he most certainly couldn’t go through the frontgate. Maybe there was a weak spot somewhere? Or, a tree? Something??

It took a little bit of searching but there did turn out to be a tree close enough to the wall for him to climb over. Big thought he had already walked past this area a couple times but he decided to ignore that. It had crimson leaves like the red forest he longed so badly to see and when he walked closer he noticed a human sitting behind it.

The crazy stargazer! They were staring off into the distance and like always, Big became extremely nervous about the man’s presence, so he ignored them the best he could and started climbing the tree.

“It seems the, not-so-angel-like, angel received a convincing letter.”

Big nearly lost his grip at the unexpected, and terrifyingly accurate, comment.

“What?” He squeaked as he whipped his head around towards the man and rebalanced himself.

The man seemed to chuckle, Big couldn’t tell from his angle, and paid no acknowledgment to the question.

“You should hurry along little killer, people are sure to be out and about soon” the man purred. Big, however, froze and stared at the man; searching for some clue as to how the man knew about what he did.

The man then turned towards him and stared him straight in the eye, “Is losing your morals really worth it?”

Nerves already on edge from what Ritz asked of him, and terrified of how the hell the man knew what he’d done, Big quickly climbed up the rest of the tree and threw himself over the wall. But in his panic, he hadn’t thought out a plan for the way down.

Frantically, he reoriented himself and despite the agony it would cause, he threw open his wings so he could somewhat glide down. It sent streaks of stinging pain throughout his wings as the wind blew past them. Hitting the ground hard and rolling with his wings taking the brunt of the abuse, caused a strangled screech of pain to escape his clenched jaw.

Once he came to a stop, he was trembling from the pure agony as he curled around himself, hands pressed hard against his mouth to muffle his own cries. He couldn’t let anyone wake up from his cries to find him like this. His hands’ wounds had been reopened and were bleeding, he could taste the blood leaking from his hands as he stifled his wounded sobbing.

Black tears mixed with the blood to make dark smears of maroon on his face. His wings hung limp and feathers were strewn about all over the ground from his tumble, the muscles in his wings screamed at him to stop this abuse. Big grit his teeth and let out a whimper as another breeze ruffled his battered wings. He needed Sammy, or Rise, he couldn’t hide this, the pain was unbearable. He needed his brothers, he couldn’t— another whimper escaped him as the breeze picked up— he couldn’t handle this.

He didn’t know what to do. Everything hurt and the words the crazy stargazer had said terrified him. What did they mean by “is it worth it?” He was going to be famous, everyone would love him! Who— who cares if he killed a few criminals to get that? He was stopping people who would have continued to hurt others! He ignored the thought that he technically was hurting people for his own gain and enjoying it. He was in the right here, wasn’t he? He was doing the world a favor and just being compensated for it! Right?

Fueled by a newfound energy, Big pushed himself in a sitting position and held his breath as his wings jolted with pain and hands stung. He then, with great agony, stood and started stumbling towards his family’s house. He needed to get home, everything would be fine if he got home. His brothers would help and everything would be fine. Everything- everything would be fine.

Big tripped three times and spent over ten minutes every time he fell trying to ride out the sharp increase of pain till it died back down to a somewhat manageable level. At least nobody was out walking around this early, that was something he had on his side, he supposed. By the time he reached the door to his home, his eyelids were threatening to slide close.

He managed to knock on the door before he collapsed and he thought he heard Sammy’s voice as he slipped into unconsciousness.


*+=+=oOo=+=+*


When Big awoke, he was laying on his stomach. His wings and arms felt like bricks and he could barely move. He turned his head and saw Sammy pacing back and forth. The room wasn’t orderly either, Sammy was constantly stepping over papers with drawings on them, dolls, toys in general... That’s when Big realized he was in Sammy’s room and on Sammy’s bed.

Sammy seemed to notice that he was awake as well and rushed over.

“Oh sweet light you’re finally awake!” Sammy exclaimed, lifting off the blanket that was apparently on him. It made his wings feel lighter but Big was still unable to move them.

Sammy stammered, “You— you’ve been out for a whole day and—“

Big let out a squawk of surprise and tried to roll over to get up but sheer agony shot through his wings as he lurched them.

“Stop! Stop! I— I couldn’t heal them entirely, I got the worst of it healed but not the rest.” His little brother cried.

Big breathed deeply as he rode out the pain. He should have known it was too bad for Sammy to heal entirely.

“A— Autumn doesn’t know and neither does Rise, they weren’t home when you got here,” he paused to help Big into an upright position, who hissed in pain as the two of them did so. “Th— they still think you snuck out of town, they’re covering for you.” Sammy continued, as he focused on healing the small scrapes on Bigs face.

Big noticed the slight stutter in his little brother's voice and when he looked Sammy over he saw that Sammy was trembling.

“..ar-re you okay?” Big asked, his throat hoarse and raspy, which surprised him. His voice must be worn out from when he fell.

“Am I okay?? You’re the one with second degree burns everywhere!” Sammy countered, gesturing towards the entirety of him. Big winced as he realized how bad his frantic washing had hurt him.

Sammy stopped the healing on his face, and picked up one of Big’s hands, “Big, you… you were passed out on the porch covered in burns, bleeding, I—“ tears started to well up in his little brother's eyes, “I was so scared,”

Big couldn’t look Sammy in the eye.

“Big.. What happened?”

He couldn’t tell Sammy the truth of why he was so burned. What was he supposed to say? That he had murdered someone as ‘payment’ to his new boss and then felt guily about it so he washed himself with practically boiling water? He felt filthy just thinking about what he did.

“Big please— just tell me and we can all help you—“

“I was practicing my fire magic and I messed it up,” Big interjected, voice flat. He looked up at Sammy who had oily streaks on his face.

“okay? I messed up with my magic, that’s it.” He reaffirmed.

Sammy stared at Big’s wings, “...if your magic can burn you like this don’t you think—“

“Don’t you dare.” Big snarled, startling even himself with his tone and Sammy fell silent. It hurt that the same words others would say were coming out of Sammy, But what hurt more was the sheer lie he was trying to sell to Sammy.

His magic can’t burn him. It could only burn those who he willed it to burn. Well, technically, he could burn himself if he wanted to. But the lie he was having to tell made it seem like his magic was wild and uncontrollable.

Sammy stayed quiet as he healed Big's hands. However, Big's hands didn’t regain the pearly white color the rest of his skin had. It stayed that muted pinkish gray color. A frown formed on his little brother's face as he further focused his magic on them. Nothing happened, they stayed pinkish gray.

“I don’t—“ Sammy’s eyes went wide, “why won’t it work?” He asked, looking up at Big fearfully. He didn’t know either, but Big was more busy panicking about what he was going to do to hide the skin.

“I don’t know, it—“ there was a constant slight tremble to his hands now that he actually watched them. “Gloves, I— I’ll wear gloves, it's fine, it’ll be fine!” He laughed, growing more and more hysterical.

The tar-like feeling was all over his hands again and he wanted nothing more than to scrub it away, but he was still healing he would just have to deal with it.

Once again, Sammy was silent. But abruptly, Sammy wrapped his arms around Big. There was a bit of pain from the nudge to his wings, but Big's laughter fell into hysterical wails.

He didn't want to kill that person. But he had to. He signed a contract. He had to. He wasnt a murderer, he had to. He felt so nasty for lying to his brother. He hadn’t been able to read the tiny words and what they said. He hadn’t known what they bound him to. He hadn't known Ritz would threaten him with hurting his brothers. He hadn’t wanted to have to kill people to keep his fame.

But his little brother just thinks he burnt himself with his magic. Messy, oily, black tears streamed down Bigs face and into Sammy's hair, who kept him in the hug he didn’t deserve.

 

[Shawdios]

'Wouldja like a drink?'

Sammy had mentioned some sort of cafe-bar-dinner hybrid when Rise was scolding him and reminding him that their shared therapist told him he needed to find a way to relax that wasn’t through performing.

Apparently, Sammy used to hangout there during the day, but never stuck around when the bar opened. Big could understand that, drunks weren’t exactly the most enjoyable to be around sometimes. He’d shrugged in response to his little brother, telling him that he’d only go to check out the staff and food despite the idea of having a couple good drinks sounding appealing.

So, that’s where he found himself, in front of the Sugar and Spice Dinner. Hesitation catching and gluing him in place when he saw his older brother at the bar through the window.

Now he was severely regretting coming. Sammy had to have known Fall would be here. The manipulative little shit had to have known if he’d always made sure to leave before the bar opened. Big knew just how far Sammy would go to avoid their eldest brother.

Big… had his own issues with his brother. Some of which Sammy would understand and feel the same about. The others he’d take his chances with keeping to himself. But, he’d flown all this way to come to the cafe? Bar? Dinner? And against all advice the therapist gave him about being around those that stressed him out, he was going to go inside and enjoy himself.

With an internal plea for Fall not to notice him, he entered the dinner and sat down at the bar as far away as he could from his brother. The bartender was a catfolk as far as Big could tell from here and they were in a loud conversation with his brother. Fall being the source of the volume of course. But there was too much chatter in the air for him to make out the words. Big would put money on them knowing things about Fall not even he did with how much his brother was likely here.

The Catfolk eventually noticed him staring after another customer that was near him calling over to them and they presumably told Fall they’d needed to do their job.

“Welcome to Sugar and Spice, i’ll be right with you” the Catfolk bartender deadpanned once they’d reached him, and placed a plastic menu near him before tending to other people at the bar.

Fall’s gaze followed the bartender though. Big cringed as he saw the recognition flash in his brother’s eyes. He’d hoped that with a different outfit and a slight bit of shapeshifting to make him shorter wouldn’t make him recognizable. His brother hopped off the seat he was in and came over to sit next to him.

“Big?” came his brother's hesitant question. And as much as Big wanted to avoid Fall or avoid the issues he had with his older brother, he couldn’t.

Rise had told him how broken Fall had become after he’d left, and broken even further after Sammy followed suit. He’d been there when Fall had screamed at Holly for “lying” to him when she told Fall that he and Rise were in the next room. He’d been there when Fall stared disbelievingly at him and Rise after they’d ran in to diffuse the situation.

So, he responded, “Yeah?” and Fall’s eyes lit up with joy before he furrowed his brow and tilted his head.

“Why’re.. Why are you here?” he asked Big, who’d caught himself before he could say that Sammy conned him into seeing his alcoholic brother and that he’d been forced here by Rise. That was something he’d say before he’d left to stay full time in Blitzety, he’d grown up and matured since then. Not to mention the impulse control exercises he had to do with the therapist of course.

“Rise said I needed to relax, and I heard this place was nice,” he settled on saying with a gesture to the rest of the establishment while suppressing the childish urge to instead retort with an insult.

His brother only narrowed his eyes and looked him up and down before waving the bartender over. Big meanwhile, watched his brother talk to the Catfolk and order a couple drinks.

Fall was still wearing the same rugged beanie and patchwork coat as he’d been when they’d been reunited. The glasses he wore were still bent with the left lens sporting a large crack from when Big was younger as well. Did Fall not ever get them replaced?

…or was he never able to afford new glasses? Big’s mood dropped even further at that thought. Yet another reminder of his mistake when he’d signed that contract. Ritz had never let any money he made be sent to his brothers, and Ritz refused to pay him till he moved to Blitzety.

“...Yu’ve changed”

Big blinked a couple of times, startled out of his thoughts by the unexpected comment, “What?”

“I said, yu’ve changed,” Fall repeated with a shrug, then took a sip of the drink the bartender placed in front of them a few minutes ago, “but, i guess we both have”

Big supposed they could say that. Fall certainly wasn't this laid back and emotionally distant back when Big was a teenager. But, Big eyed the drink in Fall’s hand and sluggish movements, there’s one thing that certainly had stayed the same.

Fall slid the second drink to him, “Why’d y’leave, Big?” Why did he– was he really asking that? Big tried not to start seething. He’d left because Ritz refused to pay him and threatened to “get rid of the issue” that kept him from staying in Blitzety.

He’d only been trying to help out their family and be able to perform without being considered a criminal for singing or dancing. Was it his fault for being taken advantage of? The therapist would say it wasn’t but he disagreed.

“Does it matter?” he grimaced, glaring at the drink slid to him and clenching hands that would shake involuntarily if he reached for it.

Fall slumped and leaned his head on his hand, “I guess not…” then he whispered so quietly Big almost missed it, “...Do you know if Sammy is doing okay?” and Big felt compelled to take a sip of that drink.

Sammy, ironically, was the most ‘okay’ out of them all. If you ignored the ever present avoidance and blatant on edgeness he had when around Holly. But even then Sammy was doing better than most of them. He wasn’t stifled and restricted by the cult anymore so Sammy had the freedom to wear and act how he’d liked. Hark had gotten over whatever issues he had with Big, so Sammy had Hark now.

But Fall wouldn’t know that. Sammy made it clear that he hadn’t wanted to reunite with them and that he’d finally gotten a stable life with them out of it. Those words hurt so, so, much when Sammy snapped and screamed at them. Him and Rise had since made up with Sammy, Fall hadn’t gotten that chance.

“Yeah, he’s–” Big sighed before running his fingers through his hair, then picked up the glass he’d been glaring daggers at with an embarrassingly shaky hand, “–He’s okay, he was upset, but we’ve… been making up for time”

He took a sip of the drink and was surprised by the sweetness of it. Was it a rum? He doubted Fall, the one who stashed vodka under the floorboards and practically drank it straight, was a rum drinker. Did he order it just for him? He hadn’t been paying attention to the orders. While Big personally preferred tequila and similar liquors, the thought behind it was oddly warm.

Meanwhile, his brother gave a small smile, “tha's nice to know” Big could tell Fall was hurt that Sammy didn’t want him around.

Awkward silence settled between them for a few minutes before Fall spoke up.

“I know he avoids me, we hang ‘round the same place, it’s not tha’hard t’pick up on” Big winced as Fall’s slurred tone darkened, “i’m not a’ways drunk ‘ight?”

His older brother was the one staring at his drink now.

“I get wh’y’all avoid me, but'm not a’ways drunk” Fall muttered seemingly just to himself, grip tightening on the glass.

Light damnit, tonight was supposed to be a relaxing night.

“i just– you– …I’m trying.” he replied tiredly, watching the glass in his hand shake along with his gloved hand, “i can't speak for the other two, but i’ve got so many of my own issues, along with stuff between me and Rise, i can’t deal with breaking down the walls towards you right now, okay?” Fall’s expression, for lack of a less ironic word, fell.

“But you have time for Sammy?” he retorted, and Big roughly set his glass on the counter before spinning towards his brother.

“Thats different,” it came out a near growl, pointing an accusatory finger towards Fall, “Me and him didn’t fight constantly, he wasn’t the one who saw me as a trouble maker, or the one who sighed in contempt when i needed to let out my magic–”

Fall cut him off and put his drink on the counter as well, “And’m sorry for it! I had t’raise ya while dealin’ with a cult an’ everyone givin’ up on me and y’three, ‘ight? I did my fuckin’ best an’ i know i screwed up a lot, but I wasn’ even in m’thirty’s when y’were sixteen!”

People were starting to eye them curiously. Big didn’t want to deal with this publicly and make a huge scene. He’d been avoiding Fall for this exact damn reason, he knew they’d fight again and make a scene. He knew Fall had been trying to help him and protect the three of them, but he had done it horribly with the result being them fighting, and it only sparked hurt and hate. All Big ever wanted was an apology without the guilt tripping surrounding it.

“This,” he gestured back and forth between them, “is why I avoid you.” before pulling out a ten and slapping it on the bar. He didn’t care if it was too much for the barely drunk liquor. Big turned on his heel and left the dinner as Fall pleaded for him to come back.


Once outside and a decent ways away from the cafe-bar(?), he kicked a lamppost and let out an emotion filled screech. He was supposed to be relaxing!

Oh, he was going to kill Sammy when he saw him again. Not literally of course. ...But now that he was thinking about it, it was so tempting to fall into the mindset Ritz had drilled into him. No, he was better now. He had no reason to do that anymore. Ritz took advantage of him; those killings weren’t his fault, if he did it now though, it would be.

He let out another screech and pulled at his hair to try and calm himself. Those walking by watched him fearfully and quickly got some distance between them and him. He couldn’t blame them if he was in their shoes. Luckily none of them ran, otherwise his internal battle would have been a lot harder and he may have lost.

It took a couple of the calming exercises that the therapist Rise and he shared had taught him along with time to get himself under control.

Big missed his older brother, despite the constant fighting they’d done before he’d left. He knew why, but he didn’t want to admit it. Because, while Fall may have screwed up a lot— Being a grieving teenager suddenly having to raise kids with no support system and everyone actively cruel towards them tended to cause that, therapist’s words not his mind you, so it made sense— he genuinely did love and care about them.

Things were, emotionally anyway, okay when he was younger. But as the cult grew more strict and Big more rebellious, the situation fell into ruin. He knew now that while the looks of fear weren’t actually in fear of him but instead from fear of the cult, the guilt from Ritz forcing him to be a killer twisted memories to mean that. Nor did Fall see him as a trouble maker either, his surrogate parental figure was only worried and just tired from having to cover things up.

How his teenager self saw It still hurt though. And, according to the therapist, that was okay? He didn’t agree, but they were still working on things like that.

Now that his breakdown was, somewhat, ridden out, he just felt tired. It was barely even eight o’clock. He groaned as he remembered he had to fly ho– back to him and Rise’s apartment. With a huff, he unfurled his wings and then a few powerful flaps later he was in the air. Just after he took to the skies though, the covered-in-tar-like feeling that came with feeling guilty crept up his hands. He took off his gloves and shoved them in his pockets then quickly rubbed his hands together to ease the greasy feeling.

He couldn't scrub at the feeling with a cloth or water, it would only further damage his hands. The damage to his hands had been the tipping point for Rise to demand he’d come with them to the therapist and tar-like feeling was the very first thing he and the therapist worked on finding a healthy coping mechanism for. The Space Trio— Star, Sun, and Moon— had suggested hand sanitizer, and it had been the bandaid fix till they found something better.

Presently, they’d found that just him rubbing his hands together, with or without hand sanitizer, would be the best option till Big could ease his guilt and not be as affected by it. Which, again, was something they were still working on.

But no matter how many times he told himself that It wasn’t his fault for his emotions and how he felt, he still felt guilty for feeling the way he did.

He hated how so many of his thought processes were with the tail of ‘the therapist said’. He hated how he couldn’t make any progress with feeling better. He hated how he could lash out and hurt someone if he had a breakdown or was too stressed. He hated how everything about himself was taken and ruined by someone who saw doing so as a game–

Big pulled a strand of hair out to distract himself from falling back into a breakdown. He couldn’t have a breakdown while flying, that was too dangerous. The therapist said not to think about the negative things and to focus on the good stuff instead.

Ok, he… had his brothers again and they are safe from Ritz, that's good. He knows he has shapeshifting magic, so he can make himself look however he wants, that’s good. Ritz is gone, that is good. He has a support system who understands he needs to do some healing, that is good. He has a therapist to help him heal, that is good.

His thoughts were cut off by the sight of Flurmere, that town was never to be called Angeltown again, bringing a mix of feelings to light. He was almost to him and Rise’s apartment, which brought relief, but he had to fly over the walls that trapped him for so long when he was younger to get there. The therapist told him that moving to a fresh place would ease the pain of staying somewhere with harmful memories, but he didn’t want to leave his twin or their friends behind.

There weren’t any nearby cities he could move to anyway. Beatuplo didn’t allow someone to move to it and have a permanent residence without marrying a resident, Swishec was way too wet for his tastes, and Blitzety was a definite no for many reasons. Harjewel would be nice, the rocky terrain and abundance of shiny rocks made the view from a high point beautiful. But Fall lived there and obviously, Big wasn’t ready for being around him and running into him randomly yet.

So, Flurmere it was.

With the mix of feelings swelling as he flew over Flurmeres to-be-torn-down walls, he sucked in a breath and held it. Letting the breath go only when he felt his lungs start to burn from the action and landed on their apartment floor’s landing balcony with practiced grace.

 

[Shawdios]

Parentin– Brothering?​

A one winged porcilavian made his way down a crowded street. Weaving in and out of clumps of the other porcilavians who paid no mind or care to him. The chilling breeze was barely noticeable in the crowd, but it swiftly started to pick up. He sped his pace.

Autumn wasn't paying attention and stumbled as someone’s leg tripped him up. The screech of glass on concrete rang through the crowd as he fell and skidded. A few mildly concerned folks flying above the crowd turned towards the sound, but continued on their way as they noticed who the person was.

Gritting his teeth, Autumn picked himself up from the pavement and straightened his, now mildly cracked, glasses. It was tough living in Flurmere when you couldn't fly. Harassment and judgemental gazes were in every direction you turned. But Autumn tried not to let it get to him, he was used to the treatment. He hadn’t spawned with a pair of strong wings like everyone else in the city, only a singular, stunted wing.

Normally, one would fly up to their apartment floor but due to his flightless situation he had to climb a ladder to his floor’s landing area that he had tied to the top after a painstaking climb. Luckily, Autumn lived on the second floor and the ladder didn't take long to climb. Once on his apartment floor, he dabbed his sleeve at his scratched up face, wincing at how much it stung and the bit of blood that was now on his coat.

He couldn’t let his little brothers see him bleeding like this. So, Autumn knocked on his neighbor’s door to ask them for a paper towel he could use. When the neighbor answered the door, she was obviously irritated that he’d knocked on their door, but the blacksmith saw his face and sighed.

“Rust I need a—“ he began.

But Rust cut him off, “I swur, yur gonna show up ‘alf dead at m’dur sum’day,” she dragged him inside, then wet a cloth and tossed it to him, “ ‘ere, clean ’et up an’ press so tha’ bleedin’ stops” and just as quickly Autumn had been dragged inside, he’d been pushed outside with the door slamming shut behind him.

Autumn blinked a couple times in shock. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked his neighbor Rust for help, but how quick the exchange went with her hasn’t ever stopped surprising him. She reminded him of Sugar, his late caretaker, in a way. But Rust was rough and harsh where Sugar was gentle and sweet, and was likely only willing to help him out because she knew he was taking care of two young kids.

Realizing his little brothers were still waiting, he pressed the cloth to his cheek and held it there to stem the bleeding. Once the scrape was clean and had stopped bleeding, he deemed it alright enough that it wouldn’t scare the twins. Autumn squeezed out the cloth so it wouldn’t soak the inside of his coat pocket when he folded it up and hid it there to return later.

A familiar greeting reached his ears after he unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside.

“Ay! Autumn’s home! Autumn! We missed you!” A young child dressed in an oversized red sweater ran up to him and rammed his head against Autumn's leg. It caused a small chink sound as if two glasses had been tapped together and he looked up at Autumn with a toothy smile.

Any other would likely scold the kid for the action, but Autumn didn't mind his little brother’s form of affection. What's one more affectionately caused scuff that he could polish away compared to the malicious ones that would never buff out?

“Missed ya too, give me a sec, ‘ight?” Autumn responded as he took off his winter coat. Meanwhile, a second child with a gray sweater rushed over and trilled with glee before gently hugging Autumn’s other leg as he hung up his coat.

His little brothers were identical twins and nigh impossible to tell apart if it wasn't for the pink bow tie around the second’s neck and the first’s distinctly red sweater. The twins’ hair had a similar color to Autumn’s hair, but the shade leaned closer towards an extremely dark brown than his black. Their skin wasn't tinted any sort of hue and was instead a naturally pearly white, unlike Autumn's own skin. Autumn had to polish and shine his lightly violet tinted skin rigorously in order to get it to what they had.

“Aw, missed ya too, Icey” Autumn grinned at the second child, ruffling both of the childrens’ fluffy hair. The red dressed twin bumped his forehead against Autumn's leg again in response while the other chirped happily.

“Flame, Icey, dinner time, I gotta move now, ‘ight?” He told the twins, putting his hands on his hips. Icey listened, withdrawing from Autumn's leg with a nod and running off, but Flame pouted and held on tighter.

“Don’ wanna.” He mumbled.

“Flame,” Autumn started with a warning tone and a flick to the child’s nose with a breeze of air to get his attention, “if you don't le’go an’ follow Icey, you wont get to play before bed.”

Flame seemed to weigh his options and Autumn suppressed a laugh when Flame’s face soured. The kid must’ve realized he didn't want to go to bed early. So, after Autumn repeated the warning, Flame pulled away and stomped after Icey with a mild sulk.

Autumn frowned at himself. He handled that well, right? Sugar used to get him to listen the same way. She was just as sweet as her namesake and never responded to his antics with anger. Granted he was a special case when he was younger, having misspawned and all that, Autumn was just glad the baker hadn't kicked him out for being a burden.

Having one wing and his body generally being odd wasn't something he could control, he’d simply spawned that way and was forced to spend the entirety of his life living it down. Sugar hadn’t cared about his oddities, she just saw a needy kid.

The citizens of Flurmere were most certainly not kind to anyone who recently spawned, unless they got lucky by being cute and ran into the right person, but they were downright cruel to those who seemed weak or odd. However, there were the rare bleeding hearts that gave misspawns a chance and Autumn was eternally grateful for the unconditional love Sugar never ran out of for him.

Autumn finished taking off and putting away his winter outerwear before turning his focus towards dinner for him and his little brothers. Making sure not to trip over the scattered pillows and blankets— Autumn made a mental note to tell the twins to pick up after themselves— he stepped towards the apartment’s small kitchen. Autumn winced at the bareness of the cupboard. There was only around a week's worth of food for the three of them if he gave up a meal or so.

After running a few rough calculations of portion sizes and how much funds his next paycheck would give him, he sighed. Sweet light, he wished Sugar was still around, she would know how to make things last.

This was Autumn's second winter with Flame and Icey in his care. Nobody wanted to take in twins, they were seen as a bad omen. Some would even argue that twins were misspawns as well, claiming they were supposed to have been a whole person who instead spawned as someone split in two.

And who better to take care of them than a “fellow” misspawn?

Taking out a can of veggies he knew both twins liked and wouldn't fight over, Autumn set a pot of water to boil on the electric stove. Can't ever go wrong with rice for a meal decision. As long as there was butter and salt in it the twins ate it right up.

Most native to Flurmere would be considered herbivores, never really finding the need or desire to eat meat. But there are a few that did have it as part of their diet due to no one wanting to waste a resource. Autumn’s brothers were not part of those few, he always made sure they’d never need to. He had that type of nutrition once or twice when he was younger but never needed to eat like that since.

As the rise cooked, he set to opening the can and chopping up the veggies into smaller bits for the twins. Flame didn't like beans or peas and Icey didn't like corn, but they both agreed on eating carrots. Once the rice was finished, he set it aside in some bowls with forks and warmed up the carrots.

He was almost finished when Icey came running in and yanked on his sleeve.

‘Twin pushed me! He toppled my fort!’ they cried in Spawn, inky tears welling up in the corners of their eyes.

Then Flame rushed in, wings flared, “did not! You messed up your fort! You were tooking my pillow!”

‘Yes you did! You pushed me into my fort!’

“Nuh uh!”

Autumn couldn’t help but sigh in exhaustion, he didn’t remember the issues when he was younger being so trivial, despite him not being even in his twenties. He set down the spoon he was using to stir the carrots and shut off the stove.

“Ok, first, Flame, it’s ‘taking’ not ‘tooking’ and second, i wanna hear what happened from both of you with no interruptin’ the other.” he said firmly, kneeling down so he’d be eye to eye with them.

Autumn gestured to the twin still clinging to his sleeve, “Icey, you first.”

Flame screeched in indignation, pointing at Icey, who stuck their tongue out at their twin with triumph, “What?! Tha’s na’fair! They’re gonna make it look like–”

“I’m gonna hear from both’ you, don’t worry.” He consoled the red dressed twin.

Flame still grumbled, but didn’t say anything more and took to fidgeting with the hem of his sweater now that the two of them were silent.

“Icey?” Autumn prodded.

The child in question wiped at their eyes before starting.

‘I was building a pillow fort and i ran out of pillows so i asked Flame if he–’

Flame cut in, “No you didn’t!”

‘Yes I did!’

“Flame.” Autumn responded warningly, and Flame huffed and crossed his arms, “Icey, continue”

‘I asked Flame if he would let me have some of his, he said yes, then he pushed me into my fort when I grabbed one!’ they finished, with an accusatory finger pointed at Flame.

“how ‘bout you, flame?”

“They didn’t ask me, they just took my pillows!” Flame shouted, then mumbled, “...So I pushed them, ‘s not my fault they fell into their fort…”

Autumn frowned and looked back and forth between the two. Icey was swearing up and down that they asked, and Flame was saying they never did.

“Flame, did you not hear them?”

Flame tilted his head confusedly, “They didn’t ask to use my pillows though.”

‘I DID! AND YOU NODDED!’ Icey screeched, with Flame flinching at the sharp sound.

“I didn’t know you were askin’ bout the pillows..” he whispered, his fidgeting only increasing.

That confirms it then.

Autumn rubbed Icey’s shoulder, “Icey, he wasn’t payin’ attention, you know you need him to actually look up for him to mean it.” he explained, gesturing to the fidgeting twin with his free hand.

Icey huffed, looking down to the floor, ‘He still pushed me’ they grumbled.

“And he shouldn’t’ve, so, he’s not gonna get to play after dinner” Autumn looked directly at Flame, “He’s gonna get ready for sleepin’ and go straight to bed instead”

The kid then pouted and went to sit at the table, knowing the punishment was non-negotiable, and started to nibble at the rice. Autumn then patted Icey and nudged them to go sit with their twin. But the kid didn’t budge.

“Ay, foods gettin’ cold, go eat?” Autumn probed, smiling unsurely, “wha’s wrong?”

‘...why’s he not paying attention all the time?’ they chirpped softly, ‘i don’t get it, he says it's just really hard, but i can do it, we’re twins right? We’re the same?’ Icey glanced at their twin, who was still dejectedly nibbling at the rice but unaware of the conversation and staring out the window.

How long had this been bothering the kid?

Autumn brushed some loose hair behind Icey’s ear, “just ‘cause you two are twins and look the same doesn’t mean everythin's the same up here,” he explained with a tap to the kid’s forehead, they still were looking at him with confusion though, so he continued, “Using Universal’s hard for you but not for him, right?”

After a few seconds of thought, they replied, ‘So… focusing is harder for him like how Universal is harder for me? And us being different like that doesn't make us not twins?’

“Y– yeah,” he agreed, somewhat unprepared. He hadn't expected for the kid to make the connection so quick. Then, he nudged the twin towards their other half, “now go eat”

Icey ran over to the table and hopped into the chair next to their twin. Flame startled and chirped in surprise before playfully nudging his twin. The two had smiles on their faces, the fight quickly made up as they chirped and trilled back and forth.

Autumn himself smiled as well at the sight. He did well with that, he’d always been insecure ever since he took those two in that he’d screw this up. But seeing the twins happy reminded him that he could do this. He hoped Sugar would be proud of how he was handling things.

He shook his head to clear it before his mood could be soured and stood, focusing on straining the carrots before bringing them over to the twins. They both held out their half eaten bowls and he split the carrots between them. He did notice Flame’s bowl was less empty than Icey’s. The kid was eating slowly so he wouldn’t have to go to bed early. Autumn snorted at the realization, drawing confused looks from the twins that he waved off.

Autumn then took his bowl of rice and went to the main room to eat. Leaving the twins to chitter away with each other. After sighing at the sight of the couch missing its cushions, he plopped down on the floor and ate.

Eating with the twins wasn’t something he was up for at the moment, Icey always caught on to the smaller portion he had compared to them and he didn’t want to deal with that. Today wasn't the best ether, the only thing good to lift his mood were the twins. The scrapes from him tripping still stung, and he’d seen far too many street kids hiding in the alleyways.

The coldest part of winter had yet to come and the knowledge of a lot of them likely not making it through ate at him. He’d been one of those kids and so had the twins. If it weren’t for Sugar, he likely wouldn’t have been alive to save and take in the twins. Autumn wished he could help them all like Sugar did with her bakery, but he could barely support himself and the two he had the responsibility of taking care of. He had no food stocked up at all and the three of them were living paycheck to paycheck on an unstable and physically draining job with an unforgiving boss.

Quickly scarfing down the rice to get away from his bad mood, he got up to rinse his bowl. The twins were still chittering back and forth, but they’d finished their food as well.

Knocking on the table, Autumn caught Flames attention, “Ay, Flame, bedtime, y’two may have made up, but you’re still in trouble for shovin’ them”

The kid hung his head and groaned, but Icey picked their bowls and dragged Flame out of his seat. Autumn took the bowls from Icey and started rinsing them out as Flame continued to be dragged into the next room. When he’d finished, he found Icey putting the couch cushions back and heard Flame presumably in the bathroom brushing his teeth.

“You can still stay up and play y’know,” he told the twin.

Icey shrugged, ‘It’s boring without someone to play with, i’ll go to sleep too’

Autumn fought the frown itching to happen. Was he no fun to play with? But he must have shown some sign of discontent, because Icey pointed to his face.

‘You’re all scraped and stuff,’ they said, then tossing the blankets on the floor onto the couch, and Autumn sighed. He should have known the detail oriented kid would have noticed.

‘and you’re always really tired when you get home, it's fine’ they finished with a sad smile and ran off to the bathroom.

How old were the twins, this was– Autumn stood there emotionally whiplashed. He didn’t even have an answer for how old they were or how old they spawned, only they knew that since they hadn’t told him. They looked to be tenish cycles old, but that didn’t clue him in to their mental age. He’d been taking care of them for roughly one season cycle and they’d matured quickly. Jumping through milestones moon cycle by moon cycle.

Light, Autumn knew Icey was the more analytical and mature one but this just shook him. Don’t get him wrong, Flame had his strengths. Flame could randomly point out important things he’d never have noticed, or have boundless energy to spend when Autumn couldn’t even get himself out of bed. But the kid was also still a carefree kid, well, as much as a kid of their race could be anyway. Icey on the other hand, was growing eerily aware of the issues he tried to protect the twins from bearing the knowledge of.

With a shaky and exhausted sigh, Icey was right about him being tired, Autumn settled onto the couch to sleep. As he took off his glasses and placed them on the end table, he saw the blurry shape of the twins dash to the bedroom they shared and shut off all the lights. He called out a goodnight and received two chirps with the same message in response.

But he couldn’t get himself to sleep. His worries about the twins, food, heat, and his job swirled around in his head, keeping him awake.

*+=+=oOo=+=+*​

Sometime in the night, he fell asleep, but awoke again to panicked screeching. Running on pure instinct, he stumbled to the twin’s room. When he opened the door he squinted to see Flame hyperventilating and Icey trying to calm him to no avail.

‘I– i just got up to go the bathroom, I came back and–’ Icey chirped to him, gesturing to their twin.

Autumn rushed over and pulled the two into his lap “Ay, ay, it's okay, jus’ breath, you can’t help if you’re panicking too,” he hugged the two tightly and wrapped his wing around Flame, rubbing circles between the kids’ wings.

“Flame? Can ya hear me?” Flame nodded, “Okay, i need you to take a deep breath and hold it for me–” the kid took a shuddering breath, “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, ‘ight now let it go, yes good, in, 1, 2, 3, 4, hold it, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, let it go, jus’ like that”

Thank light Sugar taught him all this, Autumn had no clue what’d he’d do to help if he didn’t know these exercises. All throughout them though, Icey watched with a tear streaked and worried face.

“Flame? You good now?” Autumn asked once the kid had steadied his breathing.

“Y–yeah,” he shakily replied.

“Wha’ happened?”

“i woke up an’ Icey weren’t there, i thought i’d–” Flame tightened his hold on Icey and squeezed his eyes shut, “–i’d been put back and you kept icey cause they’re not stupid”

Oh light, it hadn't been just Icey who had something bothering them.

‘I told you Autumn wouldn’t do that though, he’d never do that, he’d never separate or get rid of us like they would’ icey whispered to Flame and Autumn's heart clenched at the words.

He had thought about pawning them off onto someone else last winter multiple times and if he, the worst misspawn still living ever, turned them away, who else would be willing to take care of them? Not to mention the hint at them being taken in by someone before who’d only wanted them for their usefulness.

Flame pulled out of his twin’s hug and glared at them with a look only the pair knew the meaning of and Icey wilted. Autumn quickly intervened.

“Ay, you’re not dumb, and i’d never get rid of either of you, no matter what, ‘ight?” he consoled, looking between each twin. Flame looked hesitant, but Icey smiled weakly. He then pulled the two back into a hug.

“Can…” Flame started, pushing himself off Autumn's lap and out of the hug, “...can you sleep in here?” the kid started to stumble on his words as he backtracked, “you don’ have to– i– i know you sleep out in there and you– but i just– i mean– it’s–” he clenched the hem of his sweater and fell silent with his wings pulled close.

It was then Autumn realized that, despite how mature they seem at times, the twins were still just a young pair of kids.

Autumn gave a soft smile, “yea, i can,” he gestured to the room, “jus’ tell me where, and we can drag my stuff in here.”

Icey and Flame exchanged another indecipherable look and Icey spoke this time, voice having a tint of hope, ‘can you sleep in our bed? With us?’

Autumn hesitated, while he was all for giving hugs and hair ruffles or pats, he always weaseled his way out of anything that led to cuddling. But if he did that this time, he’d hurt the twin’s feelings and potentially reaffirm Flame’s fears.

Icey noticed his hesitation and slipped off his lap, ‘if you–’

“No, its okay, let’s get my blankets” he quickly replied, getting up from the bed and heading over to the open door, “come on,”

Flame’s eyes lit up with glee and the three of them then quickly gathered up Autumn’s blankets and pillows, with only a couple of sniffles due to the runny noses both twins had from crying.

The bed was just a mattress on the floor, so it wasn’t too big a stretch to just pile the blankets and pillows on it for a nest. Autumn had been meaning to save up money for some sort of bedframe to make it less pitiful, but food and rent had been too large of priorities to work around. Once the pillows were arranged comfortably, the twins settled into the plush, looking expectantly at him.

“Autumn?” Flame asked tentatively, his hopes starting to fall as Autumn just stood there. But the comment was what he needed to snap himself into motion and Autumn laid down next to the twins.

The two pulled a few blankets up to cover them, then Flame snuggled into his side and Autumn had to resist weeping messily right then and there. He hadn’t slept cuddled up with someone since before Sugar was gone; And the reminder that he’d never be able to run to his caretaker’s room for comfort ever again was why he’d been avoiding it with the twins.

Sleep did not come any easier for him than earlier, but this time his worries were not what was keeping him awake. Taking care of the twins had been a welcome distraction from why he’d been alone and in an apartment that wasn't the one he grew up in. It was times like these when that distraction came crashing down and overwhelmed him with what he’d been using it to push away.

Once the twins were asleep and unable to witness him though, he draped his wing over his face and let himself cry.

 

[Shawdios]

Don't even know you​

The day his twin nearly kicked down the door had been the happiest and saddest day of his life. He knew that both of them had to have changed but he didn’t realize just how much.

Rise flinched whenever Big moved too fast and at any touch, they also were obsessive over covering as much as themself as possible. Not that Big didn’t have his own triggers, but it hurt to have your own twin flinch away from you. Then the incident with Sam’s room showed just how bad his self hatred had gotten to his twin.

Rise had gone into each room in a bout of nostalgia then frantically called for him to see the broken window. It was the window in Sammy’s room. Then Big had a breakdown because he couldn’t get himself to enter.

His twin had been watching with mild disbelief before their expression morphed into sadness and pity and Big hated it. He hated that look, especially when it was his twin’s look towards him.

Then the questions came and Big just couldn’t handle it. He wasn’t asking about the flinching was he? He didn’t ask why Rise kept their door locked every night. He didn’t ask about how Autumn or Sam wasn’t with them. He didn’t ask about the lack of flight feathers. He had been attacked with very hard to answer questions, yet he gave Rise the courtesy of keeping his to himself.

Which brought Big to the current situation.

“I can't do this okay!?” he screeched, pulling harshly at his hair and flaring his wings, “I can't talk about it! It's too Light damned much!”

Rise drew their wings close, “But you used to tell me everything, what changed?”

“Not anymore! Alright?!” he cried and waved his hands as he ranted, “Light, Rise, It's been years since I last saw you, and I'm sorry for leaving but i can't take this!” Rise flinched at the wild gesturing and Big noticed how shaky his twin had become. The black inkinesss of tears were at the edges of their eyes, similar to the drying smudges on his own face.

“...Who even are you? You’re nothing like the twin I knew” came their quiet chirps in Spawn, likely not intended to be heard.

To which Big physically recoiled as if burned by the words and his wings hiked up defensively. The words struck a nerve in Big he hadn’t even known was sensitive. Sure he had changed and he unknowingly shapeshifted a bit, but he was still himself y’know? Just ‘cause his appearance had changed so much didn’t mean it wasn't him.

“What?” Big chirped instinctively in Spawn.

Rise’s eyes widened, realizing their comment had been heard, and they quickly backtracked, “Look, I just– you’re so different now and… I– I feel like I don't even know you anymore?” looking up at him as they finished, their voice wavered.

Big gave his twin no answer and instead opted to walk away. But Rise latched onto one of his wings– No! he was filthy and blood stained, now his twin was tainted and disgusting because of him– and refused to let him go. They then buried their face in his shoulder and wrapped their arms around him.

There was only silence from Rise as his head spewed a looped mantra of how tainted he was making his twin.

“...I'm sorry, the words came out wrong, i didn't mean you weren’t my twin” they eventually mumbled into his— nasty, filthy, disgu— shoulder, “I'm just not used to this you.” Rise then looked up at him and smiled weakly, “But I will be eventually, we just gotta get to know eachother again, right?”

Big found himself caving in he stared at the bright expression on his twin’s face, “yeah, I guess so, and…” he hesitated, before admitting softly, “...I forgive you”

Rise smiled brighter and Big returned their hug. His thoughts about how his touch was disgusting were pushed to the side for the sake of his twin. Rise wouldn’t be ruined by being around him, they were too good to be affected by his broken traits and decisions. Maybe they really could get their bond from before back.

 

[Shawdios]

<this is completely self indulgent, apologies if its a bit all over the place>

Big screwed up, he screwed up massively.

He had fallen during part of his performance due to his wings cramping. The wrong wrong wrong leathery wings that were a reminder of how horrible he was. He had quickly improvised and barely salvaged the routine before it was the next scene.

Now the show was over. He was hiding backstage amongst the stagehands and trying his damnedest not to let any sign show of his oncoming panic about what Ritz will do. His fingers dug into his pants and he ground his teeth. He can’t tap his feet. He can’t tap his feet. He can’t tap his feet.

There was a ping from his coat. His head snapped towards the sound and his wings flared as if ready to launch him into the sky. The nearest stagehand, a Faefolk with a torn ear and many piercings, gave him a concerned look. He was familiar with her, she designed most of the costumes for winged performers which led to her often working with him.

“You good Big?” She asked, pausing her transport of the costume rack to its closet.

He relaxed his wings and clenched his hands into fists around his pant legs’ fabric, “Yeah im— im fine.” He forced his focus on her and away from the phone in his coat pocket.

She looked him up and down.

“You think I’m gonna believe that?” She scoffed. Then she picked up a fedora from the rack and walked over to shove it into his chest. His hands flew up to hold the hat and he looked at it then her in confusion.

She then rolled her eyes and elaborated, “You forgot it on stage, it came off when you fell.”

His grip on the hats brim tightened and his wings hiked upwards. It was another tick of a mistake against him. The Faefolk watched him carefully. Was she going to tell Ritz? Were the other stagehands going to?

The phone pinged again, and a third time just after. The Faefolk looked towards the coat while Big squeezed the brim in a death grip and kept his gaze on the hat. She glanced back at him before grabbing his coat and fishing out the phone.

He heard her sharply inhale and Big looked up to see her facial features scrunched up in some emotion he couldn’t identify.

“Is what happened on stage why you’re hiding back here?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, “Yes.”

“and you’re ignoring Ritz’s requests for you to come to his office because of it?” She added with a tilt of something to her voice. His anxious silence spoke for him.

The Faefolk looked back to the screen of the unpersonalized phone.

“..Why? isn’t he usually calling you there for… you know?” She asked both hesitantly and suspiciously. The unspoken words weren’t missed.

He put the fedora on his head and stood. He had a foot or so of height on the Faefolk. He glared down at her and growled out, “That’s never why or what happens.”

She stared up unfazed. A sense of resignation swept over her features and her eyes settled on his shaky gloved hands. His reflexive anger towards the misconception fizzled out.

“But he does hit you?” She retorted. “Rey does your make up, he’s seen your neck—” Big self-consciously adjusted his button up shirt’s collar. “—and you’re one of the only performers who’s on a strict order” She stressed Ritz’s name, “by Ritz to always have outfits with long sleeves, gloves, and long pants.”

That order wasn’t because of the injuries from Ritz. It was from the water burns and scrubbing Big did to himself, out of guilt for killing, that Ritz found out about. Well, maybe the order about the pants was, his legs were what Ritz usually went for. But the Faefolk was putting all the pieces together and coming up with basically the correct picture. He had longed for someone to finally notice and do something. But, now that someone was noticing? He felt utter terror.

“It’s to hide bruises isn’t it?” She accused, clenching his coat and phone tight. He eyed the tattoo of a woman with snakes for hair on her bicep.

“I’ve got brothers to take care of, brothers that Ritz knows about, don’t tell anyone about this, please.” He whispered as he grabbed his coat and phone from her, pausing and pleading with his eyes afterwards. The Faefolk’s eyes stared back with some sort of emotion. Pity? Concern? Understanding? Horror? Big couldn’t tell.

He then said at a normal volume, “I’ve got to go, or I’ll be late.” There was a tiny hitch in his voice when he said “late” and the Faefolk caught on to it. She steeled her expression and walked over to the costume rack to continue pushing it to where it needed to go.

Big then booked it towards Ritz’s office, trying to put on his coat along the way and dreading what would happen when he entered.

“What took you so long?” Big heard his boss growl as Big closed the office door behind him.

He quickly explained himself as he was still turned towards the door, “I-I was caught up by some of the stagehands!“

A clawed hand buried itself in his hair and yanked. Big yelped in surprise and lost his balance along with his hat, but that didn’t matter. Ritz dragged Big over to his chair and forced him to sit. His boss squatted down beside him, but he was still taller than Big. Big whimpered as Ritz then gently drummed claws on his exposed throat.

Big’s neck was the softest area of skin in his body, it was the weakest and most vulnerable part of him, one slip and there could be a gash. He trembled in his boss’s chair.

“Flame, you are so lucky I cannot mark up that pretty face of yours,” the clawed hand in his hair tugged and angled his chin up further. “Do you want to tell me what happened out there?”

Big whimpered.

Ritz frowned and pressed a claw to the edge of Big’s hairline, just behind his ear, “What did I say about not answering me?”

“S-Sorry, Sir, my wing cramped and I fell.” He said meekly. One second he had been doing the routine, the next his wing seized up and he was falling.

Ritz narrowed his eyes and Big squeezed his own shut, preparing for the pain of Ritz’s claw digging in and dragging down. But it didn't come.

“...Flame? I know all about your species anatomy,” The claw trailed threateningly down the exposed skin of Big’s neck.

“I know you need to use your magic—” it went along the underside of his jawline, “—or else you get sick—” across one of his arteries, “—I know your skin is thinner and softer around the joints” down his throat and the collar of his button up to his collarbone.

“I know that blood—” The claw pressed down enough to draw blood, but not enough to be dangerous, “—means a serious injury, unless it's where there’s soft skin...” Ritz trailed off.

Big sat there, feeling a line of blood from his collarbone trickle down and soak into his black button up. His boss was looking down towards his chest and eyeing the buttons on Big’s button up. Big’s breath sped up. Being cut up on his torso hurt way much more than his legs, his neck was the only rival.

Ritz seemingly decided against it. When he spoke again, he lifted his claw and placed it directly under Big’s chin.

“I adore employing your species, they’re always so complacent—” If he moved or fidgeted, his throat would gain another mark “—but equally hard to get your hands on for performing or acting as of late...” Ritz’s voice rumbled low near the end as he trailed off again.

After a few tense seconds of Big trying to keep somewhat calm, Ritz released his hair and removed his claw from Big's neck. As Ritz stood, the Dragonborn distastefully wiped the blood off his claw.

“Now… Flame, what do you call your boss?” Ritz asked after placing a hand on Big’s shoulder.

Oh Light, when did he forget to call his boss Sir?

Big cringed away and his voice came out horse and quiet, “Sir”

“And when do you not use that?” The grip on his shoulder tightened.

“..N-never, sir”

Ritz smiled. Then roughly yanked him up by the collar of his shirt.

“Then why did you not use it when you entered!” He roared.

Big squeezed his eyes shut, “Sorry, s-sir, it’s confusing sometimes wi-with phrasing and—“ He opened them and hung his head, keeping his gaze towards the floor, “...I’m just an idiot, sorry sir.”

Ritz held him there for a few seconds, then let go of Big’s shirt to grip his jaw and looked Big directly in his fearful eyes.

“Do not” the grip tightened from firm to painful for a brief second, ”call yourself that, or any other deprecating term in my presence, I am aware I demand a lot from the performers I employ, just because you cannot keep up sometimes does not make you an idiot.”

Ritz pat him on the cheek with his free hand, “You try your hardest, you know to never give anything but your best, and that’s why I favor you over the other performers” Big’s eyes widened in surprise. That was why? It wasn’t because of the leverage? He favored him because of how much effort he puts into things?

“I’ve tried my best to drill habits of respect in you so you do not feel the need to call yourself an idiot, don’t let that work go to waste.” He loosened his grip so it wasn’t as firm when he finished speaking.

Ritz then waited, and it took a few seconds for Big to realize his boss was waiting for an answer.

“Yes sir” he squeaked out.

Ritz released his jaw and pulled him out of the chair. He draped an arm over Big’s shoulders as he put Big’s fedora back on with his tail before walking him to the office door.

“You are an outstanding entertainer Flame, and i refuse to let you squander that,” Ritz told him as he opened the door and a warm feeling blossomed in Big’s chest, “Now get some rest, you had quite a bad fall, make sure you get the schedule on your way out”

Shocked from the sharp 180 of his boss's personality, Big took a second before sharply nodding and slipped out of the office.

He found it hard to verbalize words to the secretary when he tried to ask for the show schedule. So he intended to switch to Spawn, since it worked for his twin when Universal was hard, but couldn’t get himself to use that either.

“...are you alright?” She asked quietly, gaze briefly flicking down from his face to presumably his neck before returning. He realized he never cleaned up the wound Ritz cut and he opened his mouth to ask for a tissue but no words came out.

Big then closed his mouth embarrassedly, forced his wings to relax as much as he could, and nodded. Dammit, he needed his words. Why couldn’t he get his voice to work? Was this how Rise felt with Universal? Light, he had so so much more sympathy for his twin now.

The secretary knit her brows together and clenched her beak as he continued to stand there and try to get his voice to work.

“Here, my daughter goes nonverbal sometimes too, I understand” she pushed a paper towards him and held out a pen.

He blinked. First off, he didn’t know the secretary had a daughter. But second of all, this wasn’t something that was just him? Sure Rise couldn’t use Universal sometimes, but they could still talk in Spawn when that happened.

‘I need a tissue and this week’s show schedule,’ he wrote while pressing his button up to his neck with his non-dominant hand.

The secretary took a second to read what he wrote then glanced back up at him concerned. He had on his best smile he could manage as an actor.

She sighed, “look, it’s not my business what goes on in there,” she eyed the wrinkles in his shirt and messiness of his hair and Big mentally groaned at her obvious assumption. Her voice lowered and she leaned close as she pointed to the cut, “but did he do that while…?”

Big went rigid and pressed his hand harder against his neck. She hadn’t asked the other times he left Ritz’s office with injuries or a limp. What’s the difference now? That he can’t speak? And of course it was sexual. Everyone always assumed things were sexual. He tapped the note with a strain to his smile.

The secretary clicked her beak and handed him a few tissues before searching inside the desk for the schedule. He lifted his hand and found his glove stained nearly completely. Quickly, he pressed the tissues to the cut and gingerly took off the glove. Big noticed the secretary eyeing his hand’s healing burns and he shoved it, with the glove, in his coat pocket.

She gave him the printed schedule with a very concerned look and he power walked away.

‘Oh… it must be so rough if he’s cut and scarred like that, poor chickling, started at sixteen..’ Big heard her chirp under her breath. He froze and it took everything in him not to run back and beat the misconception out of her.

Ritz offered this career when he was eighteen not sixteen. He absolutely hated that rumor when it was coupled with the sexual assumptions. Not to mention that to the alliance's government, he had been an adult when it was his fifteenth year of existence. Sure, he passed the test later than most of his species did back before the cult, but he still fucking passed it.

Either she didn’t know he understood chirped languages, or she meant for him to hear. The first seemed more likely since he didn't currently have any birdlike traits to hint he would have understood it to her.

He swore at that secretary in his head the entire walk back to his flat.

 

[Shawdios]

However, on his way, a fan waved him down.

“Mr. Flame! Sir!” He cringed at the formal term, “I can just have a moment of your time!!” Big halted and turned towards the voice, still holding the tissues to his neck.

“Thank you! Oh thank you so much, can you sign my friends case?—“

It was a, presumably teenage, but he could be wrong, Wolfborn who appeared to be living as a drifter. He was vaguely familiar with the concept of the lifestyle, having met a couple of drifters before, but this was the first that asked for his autograph.

He took the pen, that the Wolfborn held out, in his ungloved hand and waited for the teenager to take out his friend's instrument case. But the teen just kept rambling as he rummaged through his bag.

“—He really looks up to you for not playing into stereotypical roles for races under the Demonborn and Demonfolk terms—“ Big’s smile grew strained. He wasn’t from a race that lined up with either of those terms. And while he was glad that his changed appearance could bring inspiration to Demonborn and Folk. The changes didn’t come from a good place. Not to mention he was still trying to stem the bleeding of the cut on his neck and his dominant hand was uncovered.

“—because y’know how demonborns and folk get portrayed on stage and in film, oh and in music! And I really love how you treat all your coworkers with respect and—“ Big just wanted to leave. He wanted to leave before he broke down in front of this fan and completely shattered his idolized image of him. “—Not to mention you started out on the scene young from what I’ve heard and I’ve really wanted to get on the Ritzlock stage and so if you’ve—”

Actually, no. Screw the teen’s view of him. The idea of the wolfborn being put through what he was sent a protective desperation though him that he could not describe. He had to convince this Wolfborn not to try and follow in his footsteps. Being under Ritz was not worth it. He did not want to see this teenager make the same mistake he did when he was eighteen.

The Wolfborn finally pulled out the case but stopped to really look at Big.

“—you’ve uh.” His brows furrowed as he saw the tissues and burn scars. But the teen quickly switched back into an upbeat mood as he held out what looked to be a small trumpet case.

“Sorry, I talk too much, I know. You’re probably really busy and stuff, I wasn’t able to go to your show today, I’m still trying to save up some money for it y’know?”

Big opened his mouth to say that it’s alright, but his voice still refused to work. Quickly, he closed it then gave a sympathetic smile as he signed the case.

The Wolfborn looked at him weirdly again.

“Did your voice give out?” The teen asked once he finished signing the case, then backpedaled, “I’m sorry if that’s rude to ask!! I just know that sometimes singers’ voices give out and stuff because of how often they perform, and with the tissues and stuff I figured something happened to your voice and I was concerned, that’s why I asked—“

Big shook his head then checked each of his pockets for a scrap piece of paper. He found the folded up printout of the show schedule for the actors and performers, but he couldn’t show that to the Wolfborn. The Wolfborn caught on and pulled out what looked to be a notebook with various sheet music written in it. The teen flipped it open to a blank page, then handed it to him with the case to use as something to lean on.

Big wrote with the least shaky handwriting he could, “It's just hard to get myself to speak right now, stress I think is what caused it. Don’t try to get onto the Ritzlock stage, it’s not worth it. Take it from me, alright?” The watching gaze of the teen practically burned as he struggled and wrote slowly.

The Wolfborn read his handwriting for a painstakingly long time, then looked back up at him. The teen eyed the tissues, eyed Big’s hand, then made eye contact with him. Big could see the exact moment when the teen’s view of the theater was shattered and the realization sinked in.

Big then smiled a weak and tired smile before giving the Wolfborn’s pen back, turning sharply on his heel, and walking away. He felt bad for basically crushing a dream, but he’d rather have that on his conscience than the kid’s misery.

He lifted his hand from his neck to check on the cut, and the tissues were bled through. The cut did stop bleeding though. However, he did keep his gloved hand over it after throwing away the tissues.

When he got back to his apartment building, Jeff the doorman waved cheerfully at him and greeted him with the usual, “Good Evening Big!” as Big walked past. Big still couldn’t bring himself to speak, so he opted to forgo his typical verbal reply and waved back to Jeff out of courtesy.

Jeff was what everyone in the building called him since he didn’t have a name tag and always introduced himself as The Doorman. The man was made of shadows and had white glowing eyes and mouth that were surprisingly expressive. He creeped most of the tenants out, but Big personally liked Jeff and didn't find the elemental all that disturbing.

Jeff looked confused at the change in greeting, but Big couldn’t exactly explain why he can’t speak with words. Big just pointed to how he was holding his hand against his neck and played off him covering a wound and not speaking as a sore throat.

“Ohhhhhh! Your throat hurts, gotcha! You don’t gotta use your voice for me if it causes you pain” Jeff waved a hand in dismissal before making a shoo motion, “Now skedaddle! I know you’re a busy man.”

Big awkwardly smiled and before heading for the lift.

He pressed the button to enter, and thankfully he only had to wait a couple seconds before the doors opened. A well dressed Mousefolk couple got off the lift and it was him alone stepping on.

Once inside, Big pressed the button for his floor and anger bubbled up from a pit in his heart that he didn’t know was there. He hated Ritz. He absolutely despised him. But yet… his praise? It felt like flying freely above the clouds. He hated how much he longed for the beginning weeks of his time at the theater. The weeks where he was praised practically for everything. He hated how everyone in the theater thought he was blowing the Dragonborn for that praise and favoritism.

He didn’t ask for Ritz to fixate on him. He didn’t ask for the sneers from other performers. He didn’t ask for everyone's sexual assumptions.

No one must be going up tonight, because the only time the elevator opens its doors it’s at Big’s floor.

He quickly stalked over to his door and wrenched it open. His dark and barely personalized flat stared back at him as he stood in the doorway. When he entered, he slammed the door harder than intended. A choked up breath leaves him as he leans back against the door.

With the door shut and his back pressed up against it, he broke down and let out a loud screech. Screw Ritz. That asshole threatens him and digs claws into him then turns around and praises him and tells him to rest?! Screw Ritz and screw everything Ritz does. Screw the whole theater!

Big pulled at his hair with his fists tangled up in it.

Fuck everyone in that blasted and bloody theater! They can all go to whatever purgatory their races believed in and fucking suffer. He hoped when Ritz died that the Dragonborn would be mentally tortured and knocked around like he was.

Big untangled his hands from his hair and grabbed the first thing he felt and threw it against the opposite wall. The shattering echoed throughout the abrupt silence. Afterwards, all he heard was his erratic breathing. He jerked and picked up another item, throwing it as hard as he could. Laughter started to escape him as whatever it was made a loud snap as it hit the wall.

The destruction was lethargic.

He continued to throw and break various items that either Ritz gave him or had been bought with the paychecks from Ritz. He flipped the couch and tore the shit out of it. He went to the kitchen and threw every cup and bowl in the cabinets. He took the one frying pan and broke the glass table over by the couch with it. All the while laughing like a maniac.

Big was debating on moving to his bedroom and starting to tear things up in there when there was a knock at his door.

He whipped towards it and dropped the remains of the knives and utensils he’d been working through either embedding into the kitchen cabinets or breaking in half from across the room.

The person knocked again and spoke this time, “Big! Is something wrong in—”

He opened the door a crack and peered out, using his foot as a blocker in case Jeff tried to push his way in.

The lights that were Jeff’s eyes grew comically large. The buttons on his uniform grew slightly larger as well.

Jeff rubs at his neck and then fixes his hat, “You uh, don’t look too good. Big.”

Big had only some clue what he may look like to the shadow elemental. His hair was probably wild and his clothes mussed up. But on top of that, there were some cuts on his fingers from broken glass and his pupils were shrunk into a line, along with the extremely obvious cut from Ritz on his neck.

Big just stared at Jeff, as if saying with his eyes “no shit, really?”

Jeff twiddled his thumbs, “Your neighbors said there was shattering coming from your place and that there were repeated loud bangs on their walls.” Jeff then smiled and added with a needlessly cheerful voice, “They thought someone broke into your apartment, but I knew you were in there so... Yay! I’m here to check on you!”

“...I’m fine” Big rasped, before clearing his throat and speaking clearer, “I’m fine.”

Jeff then frowned and his eyes turned into half circles. “The arrangement of shadows in your apartment say otherwize, can I come in?”

Big dug his nails into the door. He forgot that Jeff felt and knew the location of every ‘shadow’, which included everything in his dark flat.

Big grit his teeth and pulled the door open the rest of the way.

Jeff then tipped his hat and slid by Big. Big just had closed the door as Jeff flicked the light for the main room on. Jeff visabley shrunk from the increase in light, but that wasn’t what Big was focused on.

He had absolutely trashed his flat. He grew aware of the stinging in his foot as he saw the sheer amount of broken glass on the floor. The mild sting grew to a throbbing pain when he noticed a small but present blood trail leading to where he currently stood. There was stuffing from the couch littered all over the room, while pieces of splintered wood and snapped off plastic decorated the edges. The ache in his dominant arm taunted him.

“You… wanna talk about it?” Jeff asked gently.

Big turned towards Jeff with a pained expression. But he shook his head and slid down against the door, ending up curled around himself and leaning against the corner with his injured foot angled off to the side so there wasn’t pressure on it. Jeff sat down next to him and didn’t offer any empty words. He simply silently started pulling out the shards of glass that managed to be pushed on hard enough to get through Big’s skin.

Silent tears welled up and fell as he sat there, numbly staring at the destruction. The only sounds he made were from hissing in pain whenever Jeff pulled out a shard.

Jeff stood and tiptoed into the kitchen of the flat and brought back a package of towelettes he found in one of the piles from the dumped out drawers.

He held it out to Big with a smile, “you gotta wash the bloody germs out.” It took a moment for him to process, but Big snorted with laughter and took the package from Jeff.

Jeff then walked off again and the soundless footsteps tripped Big out a little. he shook his head and focused on his still bleeding foot. He hissed as he scrubbed at the cuts on his foot. Jeff came back with Big’s, always well stocked, first aid kit from the bathroom and he settled back down next to Big.

“Y’know, I knew you were a performer and dancer, but I didn’t know you could break it down like this” Jeff joked as he started cutting up some gauze. The joke came so far out of left field and was the perfect balance of dark humor, Big couldn’t help but burst into giggles.

Jeff continued as he applied the gauze with some medical tape, “Did you hear why the coin's partner broke up with her?”

Big shook his head.

“They were tired of her being so two sided!”

He doubled over in laughter. It was such a bad joke.

Jeff went on with his jokes as he moved on to putting bandaids on the cuts on Big’s hands, “Hey. Hey. Why can’t you lie to the ocean?”

Big managed a whisper, “I dunno, why?”

“It seas everything!” Jeff grinned as he stuck the first one on.

Jeff unpeeled the wrapping for the next bandaid, and started cleaning the rest of the cuts, “Why couldn’t the police catch the soapy drug dealers?”

Big raises a brow and says a little louder than last time, “Cause they always slipped away?”

Jeff grinned and corrected him as he put on the bandaid, “Nope! Cause the drug tests always came back Clean!”

That one Big groaned at. Jeff was annoyingly clever with these.

Jeff continued to spout bad jokes as he applied the rest of the bandaids and Big replied easier and grew more reactive with each joke prompt. It took his mind off of the reason for his hysterical destruction.

“You feeling better?” Jeff asked softly once he finished covering each cut.

“Yeah” Big replied, then stared tiredly at the massive mess he needed to clean up.

Jeff spoke softly as they both stood, “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

What would he even start with?

The anger towards his situation? The mistake of ever trusting Ritz? The rumors? The killings Ritz made him do? The injuries? The scars? His brothers?

He finally settled on an answer. “No, I can’t.”

A piece of him was dieing to let everything out. It screamed in agony as he squashed it, beat it up, and tore it to shreds.

He couldn’t risk his brothers and that Faefolk already knew too much, he couldn't risk a second person knowing.

Jeff softly smiled, but Big could see the wavering in his form.

“Well, just tap the bell in the lobby if you ever do.” Jeff turned the lights off, “I’ll get all the glass so it’s safe to walk around.”

Big tensed and flared his wings as he felt the shift of powerful magic being used. It was a primordial feeling of fear that his body reacted with. The fear of his own magic being overpowered and swallowed up by The Dark nearly consumed him. However, he knew it was just another instinct he needed to ignore. Jeff was a friendly and kind person, just because the magic he was made of and took form with triggered a negative feeling when used didn’t mean he was bad.

A few minutes of glass sliding against the floor later and Jeff sheepishly spoke, “it’s all clean of glass, but I do need you to move away from the door,”

Big sidestepped and got out of the way of the door. Jeff then opened the flat’s door and pulled a bundle wrapped in darkness out and down the hall to the elevator. Jeff waved goodbye to Big as he entered the elevator and Big shut his flat’s door. He turned on the lights and picked his fedora up off the floor.

Big then tiredly headed over to his bedroom. Forgetting the sharp pain of putting pressure on his foot, he stumbled before catching himself and being more careful to keep weight off that foot. Cautiously, he practically danced around the remaining trashed items on the floor then he reached his bedroom.

The door creaked quietly as he opened it. His room was at least somewhat personalized, with the few photos he had of his brothers framed on his dresser and desk. There was this sort of blankness in his head. He pulled off his tailcoat and dropped it with the fedora on his desk. It wasn’t like he used the desk for anything anyway, it was more of a large clutter shelf.

Then the button up and dress pants came off and Big avoided the sight of the muted pink cracks over some of his front and the overlapping spider webs on his calves and lower thighs. This time the clothes are left on the floor and Big flops onto the unmade bed with the blanket half fallen off it.

He groans into the mattress and brings his arms up to intertwine his fingers and rest his hands on the back of his head. He was tired. But he just didn’t want to sleep. Sleeping invited in nightmares. Nightmares that didn’t plague him before Ritz.

Ritz wanted him to rest, but Big didn’t want to follow his order. Fucking. Fuck Ritz. Ritz ruined him. The freedoms and choices he had under Ritz were few and in between. How much sleep he gets was one of those. So fuck Ritz. He didn’t think he could get himself to sleep anyway.

His wings pulled close and he grabbed the thick blanket hanging off the bed. The blanket was bunched up and hugged, Big wrapped every limb he could in it. The blanket was the one of the few things from his home, the soft scent to it had faded over the years, but the softness was the same. The shed downy feathers inside it were the same. The patchwork of fabric it was made with was the same. It didn’t change. It didn’t fucking change like he had. It wasn’t ruined.

He hated telling the Wolfborn to not want to be on stage. Because it had been a dream come true with the first performance he did on the Ritzlock stage. But like all his dreams do nowadays, it morphed into a nightmare. And Big was sparing him the misery of this living nightmare.

His, wrong wrong wrong, wing still ached. The broken areas of his skin still stung. The humiliation of hearing the rumors believed by the secretary was still stuck with him.

And! And! That Faefolk knew now. She knew how Ritz punished him. He was going to have every wince, reflexive behavior, and scar analyzed and pondered the cause of. He could practically hear the potential thoughts now.

“Did Ritz hit him that often? Ritz must have with that strong of a flinch. Oh he winced when I bumped his hip, Ritz must have hurt him. Why did he dig his fingers into his arms? Must be from what Ritz does to him.”

The potential looks of pity and eggshell tiptoeing around him he was not looking forward to.

The fear of her potentially telling someone made him coil up and squeeze the blanket he was clinging to. If she told someone and Ritz found out, his brothers would be on the line. Her telling someone could bring in police and investigation. The killings would be found out about. He would be sent to an actual prison for an actual crime. If she said something? He was absolutely fucked.

Sleep wasn’t an option. Not with him this worried. The what-ifs were spinning around in his head.

He watched the digital clock on his dresser go from 9 to 10 then from there to 11, Midnight, 1AM, and 2AM. But his body must have forced him to pass out because he found himself jolting awake to his 6AM alarm.

 

[Shawdios]

Weekly Ran Errands

An apartment window was pulled open and a winged kid, around thirteen years old or so, hopped out onto the windowsill.

“Stay safe Sam!” someone behind him called. Sam tightened his bag’s straps before tossing an, “I will!” over his shoulder. He dived off, then took to the skies with a quick few flaps of his wings.

Sam loved flying, it spurred such a freeing feeling in him. He was lucky that running errands allowed him to fly for fun without getting in trouble. Speaking of which, Sam spotted a certain store level of an apartment and leaned left to glide down and land in front.

The place in question was a grocery store named “Forest Groceries” and it was run by an old, and somewhat heavy set, winged man named Oak. There were various signs for different vegetables and fruits in the windows, telling customers which were in stock and which were not. Looking past the signs, one could find that the inside of the store had a soft green paint on the walls and vine motifs detailed on them. Flowers were also growing in flower pots on counters for decoration.

“Hey dere Sam!” the owner greeted, pausing his restocking as Sam walked in, “Ya ‘ere for yur deliveries?” Oak’s skin was a forest green while his fluffy hair and beard were a lighter and more saturated shade. He wore clearly well worn overalls and a white paint splatter stained t-shirt underneath it.

“Yup!” Sam responded, popping the “p”, “Also!” Sam dug through his bag as he spoke, “My brother said to tell you thanks for letting him pay when his boss paid him'' he finished, holding out the delayed payment.

Oak waved off his words and took the coins, “O, ‘ets no issue, I know Autumn and youse brothers are reliable.” He then deposited the money in the register and grabbed three paper wrapped parcels.

“I’m sure y’know where each of’m goes by now?” Oak asked, placing the packages on the counter.

Sam nodded and stored the parcels in his bag. He waved goodbye and started to leave but paused just before he exited the building.

“Almost forgot!” He exclaimed, turning back towards Oak, “When you see her, can you tell Holly that Big isn’t busy today and that she can come over?” Oak gave him a smirk and a thumbs up in response. Satisfied that part of his scheme to match-make his brother and the girl that worked at the store as a clerk would be carried out, Sam rushed out the door to complete his work.

But Sam halted right outside the door as he ran into the increased morning crowd and looked up to find a muddled airspace from so many others flying. He frowned, opting to turn down an alleyway instead so he could avoid the crowds. He tightened his bag’s strap even further, so it wouldn't fall off as he jumped up to grab the metal rungs of a fire escape. After that, Sam swung his legs up and hooked his feet on the rungs. He then hung there and checked his bag before pulling himself up with practiced ease.

Swiftly, Sam climbed the fire escape all the way to the roof and, once up there, relished in the clear airspace. With a running start, he leapt off the edge and threw open his wings to glide. His first stop was Above the Clouds, a tavern that was only a few streets down from Oak’s store.

Autumn would not on any chance allow Sam to enter a tavern, not even for a delivery, so he landed on the roof and climbed down the building’s fire escape till he was in front of a second story window. He knocked loudly on it to a tune his brother made and waited for Star to come to the window.

Star was a violet skinned woman who the tavern owner had taken in long before Sam had even spawned. She typically played her violin to entertain people visiting the tavern. Sam knew Big looked up to her. Big always swore up and down that he would manage to perform with the violinist once he was of age to enter the tavern.

But Sam also knew that Star planned on traveling the world soon, and that she would be gone before Big would be old enough. He had been avoiding telling his brother this out of fear of shattering Big’s hopes.

The window scraping open startled Sam out of his head, almost causing him to fall off the fire escape.

“Did Oak make sure to send twice our usual?” The purple woman joked as she leaned on the windowsill with one hand still gripping the frame she had pushed up.

Sam blanched, as much his already pigment-less skin could anyway, and started to panic, squeezing the strap of his bag, “No, he only gave me two for you, oh no—“

“I’m just kidding!” She reassured him before ruffling his hair and he half heartedly swatted her hand away, trying to fix his hair at the same time.

Star held her hands up defensively, “Alright, alright I wont mess with your hair,” she quirked her brow, “but you do have our usual order for this week, right?”

“Of course I do!” Sam replied, quickly bouncing back from his now consoled panic and rolling his eyes. He opened his bag and pulled out two of the parcels, “One should be fruit and berries, the other should be veggies”

Star grinned and took the parcels from him, “Yup, that's right!” She leaned to ruffle his hair again but he ducked and dodged her hand, causing her to laugh, “Sorry, I just can't resist, your hair is so fluffy!”

Sam was about to shoot back a retort, but a voice called for Star, “Vi! I need thah produce!”

“Alright, here’s the payment!” She handed him a small pouch with coins jingling inside it, “Comet needs these to cook, give Weld a hug for me!” Star then slid the window shut and through it Sam watched her dash out of the room.

Sam blinked a couple times then got to tying the strings of the pouch to the strap of his bag and stashed it inside the bag. He climbed back up to the roof and took off, heading east towards the edge of town. This time his destination was a blacksmith’s workshop.

When Sam landed at the workshop’s side door he could feel the heat of the forge inside even from out here. He knocked on the door with the same tune as before and was met with the scraggly and sharp appearance of Spark.

Spark constantly looked like he’d been electrocuted with his hair sticking out in every which direction. He likely had been to earn such a name. There was dust all over his face with there being clean circles around his eyes from goggles blocking it from building up. His hair and skin were an electric bronze color that shimmered when his skin was polished. He was also as skinny as a twig and Sam never caught what his exact job was in the workshop.

“Sam! You come by with our delivery?” Spark asked, fiddling with the doorknob and anxiously looking behind him. Sam nodded, but was interrupted when he started to speak.

“Is tha’ Sam?” He heard shouted from behind Spark.

Another voice shouted, “ELLO SAM!” Presumably from further in the workshop. Then, heavy footsteps approached from behind Spark, who let out a sigh and muttered, “we’ll be stuck here forever now,” before stepping aside to let Weld by.

Weld was a very muscular, muted gray skinned, and a darker gray haired man who had the heart of a teddy bear. His hair was much shorter then Sparks and he had the stubble of a few days old shave.

“Daww, Sam you’ve grown so big!” Weld cooed, sweeping him into a hug.

Sam wriggled and squirmed in the bear hug, “Weld, it's only been a week!” He exclaimed, “I couldn’t’ve grown that much!” At least Star's request was accomplished, he told himself as his wings were awkwardly cramped.
Weld put Sam down at the comment and held him by the shoulders, squinting as he looked him up and down.

“…Well you still look taller!” He eventually laughed, patting Sam on the shoulder. The man likely needed glasses like Sam’s oldest brother did, he acted similar to him when Autumn couldn’t find his pair.

Spark took the chance to cut in and shook a pouch of coins similar to Star’s, but a bit emptier than it, “Sam, the produce?”

The jingling jolted Sam into action, “Yeah, here!” He opened his bag and held out the remaining parcel. Spark then exchanged the pouch for the parcel and thanked Sam. Spark attempted to tug Weld towards the door, so he could get back to whatever he had been working on. However, Weld did not budge and instead dug in his pockets for something.

“I made somethin’ for you and yor brothers, but I think Rise will enjoy it the most, I just gotta find… Aha!” The man pulled out a little orb with many holes poked in it and a large hole in the bottom, “Putta candle under it when you get home and when y’all got all the lights shut off”

Sam took the orb and turned it over in his hands a couple times, “thanks! i’ll make sure to show Rise,” he grinned, storing the hole filled orb along with the pouch of coins.

Weld then gave him another hug and stepped back inside with Spark, but just before they closed the door, the third blacksmith shouted to him.

“OY! SAM! MAKE SURE YA TELL THAT OL’ BUGGER THA’ HE STILL OWE’S MEH A DRINK! AND TO TELL YUR OLDER BROTHAR TA KEEP OFF’A IT”

“Okay Rust!” Sam yelled back, leaning into the doorway and cupping his hands around his mouth so it could be heard from where the woman was probably pounding away at a tool. Spark then sheepishly smiled and Sam waved goodbye to him as Spark shut the door.

Sam then amusedly sighed and leapt into the air. He found that he couldn’t help but grin as he made his way back to the grocery store to turn in the payments. Every interaction and delivery he made working as an errand boy brought him joy. Oak treated him and his brothers like he had taken them in, Star took up an older sister role to them all while the blacksmith trio were akin to having two eccentric uncles and a gruff but caring aunt. It was like his family had grown so much larger ever since Oak offered him the job, and Sam was glad for it.