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Description
"Don't ye fockin' die on me Mark..."

After reading extensive wingfics of various ships and fandoms (*cough**cough* mostly Destiel *cough*), I felt greatly inspired to draw more Septiplier H+Ell. I am honestly addicted to Wing!verse anything, and the idea of fiddling around a bit more with it highly appeals to me, so more of this particular AU may be coming up more.

This one is more tragic than happy.

I wanted to do a flight scene, but not one where the two are engaged in a Courtship flight or a race. SO LET'S MAKE SOMEONE CRY.

Jack is supposed to be higher up in the air than Mark, which explains the skewed view and why Jack appears to be bigger.
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It was supposed to be a quick victory. A defense skirmish on the very edge of Heaven - a brigade of demons soaring and clashing left and right with angels.

Mark surveyed it all from higher up, pink wings beating the air in massive strokes, looking for an opening and a possible chance to turn the tide. The attack had been sudden. Unexpected. And though he had faith in his brothers and sisters, at this moment they were losing.

He felt the sharp, agonizing pain of the arrows' bites before he heard them stab into his wing - the sickening thunk and high-pitched whistle as they hit their target. He almost blacked out from the pain. His right wing spasmed, twitching as he roared in pain.

His left wing pumped the air faster to try and compensate to stay aloft, but was failing, and in mere moments he was falling. He crashed through the battle, being knocked around like a rag doll, going into a tailspin. Barely keeping concious, Mark had just enough sense to tuck his left wing as close to him as possible - having lost total control of his right. Catching the blunt end of am explosion and hitting another angel's shield on the way down (the blow hitting the top of the wing pierced with arrows) broke it, burned his primaries, and sent Mark into total unconsciousness. Mark fell, limp and appearing lifeless, racing towards Earth like a stone.

Jack spiraled and swooped upon the enemy, slicing through his opponents left and right. His men were winning, and they would soon break through the barrier to Heaven and begin reaping more souls.

The usual thrill of battle was lacking this fight - his standoff and guilt towards a specific angel quarrel ed with his orders constantly in his mind and heart - and the green-winged demon was jerked out of his thoughts as a familiar blur of pink feathers and silver armor rushed past him... downward.

Mark.

Not even thinking, his wings immediately snap closed as Jack goes into a sudden dive. The sight of blood matted on once-pink feathers... the stench of burned flesh... it made Jack sick.

Panic rose inside him, and he reached out for the other.

He had one chance.

Description
"Don't ye fockin' die on me Mark..."

After reading extensive wingfics of various ships and fandoms (*cough**cough* mostly Destiel *cough*), I felt greatly inspired to draw more Septiplier H+Ell. I am honestly addicted to Wing!verse anything, and the idea of fiddling around a bit more with it highly appeals to me, so more of this particular AU may be coming up more.

This one is more tragic than happy.

I wanted to do a flight scene, but not one where the two are engaged in a Courtship flight or a race. SO LET'S MAKE SOMEONE CRY.

Jack is supposed to be higher up in the air than Mark, which explains the skewed view and why Jack appears to be bigger.
------------------

It was supposed to be a quick victory. A defense skirmish on the very edge of Heaven - a brigade of demons soaring and clashing left and right with angels.

Mark surveyed it all from higher up, pink wings beating the air in massive strokes, looking for an opening and a possible chance to turn the tide. The attack had been sudden. Unexpected. And though he had faith in his brothers and sisters, at this moment they were losing.

He felt the sharp, agonizing pain of the arrows' bites before he heard them stab into his wing - the sickening thunk and high-pitched whistle as they hit their target. He almost blacked out from the pain. His right wing spasmed, twitching as he roared in pain.

His left wing pumped the air faster to try and compensate to stay aloft, but was failing, and in mere moments he was falling. He crashed through the battle, being knocked around like a rag doll, going into a tailspin. Barely keeping concious, Mark had just enough sense to tuck his left wing as close to him as possible - having lost total control of his right. Catching the blunt end of am explosion and hitting another angel's shield on the way down (the blow hitting the top of the wing pierced with arrows) broke it, burned his primaries, and sent Mark into total unconsciousness. Mark fell, limp and appearing lifeless, racing towards Earth like a stone.

Jack spiraled and swooped upon the enemy, slicing through his opponents left and right. His men were winning, and they would soon break through the barrier to Heaven and begin reaping more souls.

The usual thrill of battle was lacking this fight - his standoff and guilt towards a specific angel quarrel ed with his orders constantly in his mind and heart - and the green-winged demon was jerked out of his thoughts as a familiar blur of pink feathers and silver armor rushed past him... downward.

Mark.

Not even thinking, his wings immediately snap closed as Jack goes into a sudden dive. The sight of blood matted on once-pink feathers... the stench of burned flesh... it made Jack sick.

Panic rose inside him, and he reached out for the other.

He had one chance.