First up we have King and Gold. Gold is [now a burrowing owl. Bit of a retcon but ultimately doesn't change much]. Unfortunately I didn't have a lot of information to work with to decide what he should be but figured he's decently smart and strong like his dad but admittedly those are headcanons so I understand if you disagree.

King is an interesting one. I'm seeing how well hybrids work in this world and if I should go back and change someone to also be a hybrid or if I should drop the idea altogether. As of now King's a crowned eagle/jacana mix. Jacanas are one of the best bird dads in the animal kingdom, taking care of his babies the moment the female lays the eggs and dips. They sometimes even adopt orphaned fledglings. Crowned eagles are considered the largest bird of prey, and they will fly off with anything they can fit in their claws even if it's as big as them (imagine what a human sized eagle could do). This type of eagle is also crowded so obviously I had to give King his crown. Physically he's more eagle but instinctually he's more jacana, he has a jacana sized tail and the hunting instinct of an eagle though.

Next up, Navy and Orchid. Orchid is a cardinal. Cardinals signify a visit from a deceased loved one as well as hope and comfort. While I'm at it, here's a look at how I think ghosts look in the stick world (at least to the living, other ghosts can see more detail).

Navy is a cuckoo, one of the worst bird parents, they leave their eggs in the care of other bird families so they don't have to do the hard work. Of course he couldn't do that because Orchid wouldn't let him. Remember how I briefly bought up avians having their wings docked? It's a medical procedure only used in extreme cases where a permanently grounded stick has the main part of their wings removed to at least be able to use them for their claws (even if one is still healthy it's better mentally to have them both removed). Of course this can seriously mess with the stick's instincts and in extreme cases, like Navy's, causes them to try to denounce their bird half entirely. Of course Navy insists he's perfectly fine and that his messed up instincts aren't exasperating his already existent anger issues or anything.

Last but not least, our lyrebird Purple. She's been on quite the journey through her life. Obviously the canon stuff is still canon, there's my universal headcanon that Navy insisted she was male because he wanted a son and she kept using male pronouns until the last few years. On top of all that, Navy insisted that he's been a better fighter since he docked his wings and even tried to convince Purple and Orchid to do the same. Obviously Orchid refused but still taught herself and Purple how to fold their wings and use their claws in a similar manner. Everything was relatively okay, despite Navy's anger and Orchid's sickness, until Purple's wing broke, leaving the kid grounded before she could even fly once. She finally agreed to have her wings docked because what's the point in having a dead wing dragging you down. Newgrounds happens a couple years later and she loses one of her claws from a direct fireball, Navy ran off never to be seen again, Purple was orphaned, found Minecraft and started her little kingdom, same as canon but now with a sweater to hide her wings. Green and Blue found her and didn't say anything about her lack of wings because they're always around a wingless stick (Orange) so to them it's normal. Purple got her elytra and is able to fly but it's not the same as flying with your own wings (she also kept the sweater on in the End so the cg didn't see her wings). Normal canon events happen for the rest of the series until season 3, where while fighting Red and Orange in the PC she finally uses her wings in combat, leaving tears in her sweater. It fully shreds off by the time Green takes her elytra and she runs off to the noteblock world, where Green gets (most of) her story. King arc concludes, King adopts Purple, Purple has friends and a support system (and a therapist). Everything is good. Then season 5 happens. Her elytra breaks and it feels like losing her wings all over again. She lashes out at Yellow for causing all of this but does apologize later. One Farlands episode later and she discovers the Aether.

***

The moment Sherlock lets his eyes roam over John Watson after Mike has introduced him, he knows that this man is the answers to his predicament. 

Finding someone willing to share living space with a mad scientist as Mrs Hudson calls him, is challenging. Sherlock places an advertisement in the papers - very old-fashioned for him - but needs must. He lists the qualities he thinks will be useful for him, and him alone. It never occurs to him that he’s addressing people of the 21st century and not 1950s housewives.

“None of them are willing to be in charge of the grocery shopping, the laundry, and cleaning,” Sherlock tells Mike. “At least, I think not. No one has answered the advertisements.”

“Really? I’m shocked!” Mike retorts sarcastically. 

Sherlock scowls at him and returns to his microscope. 

Hours later, shortly after Molly has left to get him coffee, Mike walks into the lab again, bringing John into Sherlock’s life.

Before he asks where John has served, a thought hits him: “His wings are broken, and yet he stands there as if he’s determined to fight back anyone who dares to challenge him.”

And challenge him, Sherlock does. John in turn, does not disappoint, but challenges Sherlock back.

“I could kiss him!” Sherlock contemplates.

***

The way John licks his lips at Angelo’s on their first “date”, tells Sherlock that one day soon, he will seize the opportunity and claim John’s gorgeous mouth with his own.

Their first chance elapses when Angelo interrupts their fit of laughter by bringing John’s cane back. John hesitates just a bit too long when he returns, and Sherlock’s valour dissolves.

There’s no stopping them the night John shoots Jeff Hope, though. All through dinner at Sherlock’s favourite Chinese restaurant, the tension between them has been building. Whenever John licks his lips, which happens frequently, sparks of desire ignite in Sherlock’s spine. He squirms in his seat because of his growing erection, and he’s certain his face is flushing profusely.

“Hot in here, isn’t it?” John remarks. “If you’re finished, we – “

“I am!” Sherlock interrupts, stands, and wraps his Belstaff around him to hide the bulge in his tight trousers.

John chuckles and follows him out into the cold winter night. Sherlock welcomes the wind cooling his cheeks, and after a minute of walking, his trousers are more comfortable to move in.

How they manage to make it up the seventeen steps before they devour each other’s mouths, will remain a mystery. It’s all a bit of a blur to Sherlock. The moment John pulls Sherlock closer; his penis is rock hard once more.

“John,” he moans. “John.”

He’s slightly embarrassed that his extensive vocabulary eludes him. John however, has no trouble vocalising his opinions. 

“Christ, Sherlock. Do you have any idea how hard I am for you right now? You are the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever seen in my life. Fuck, yeah, that feels so good. Your mouth, Sherlock, it should come with a warning sign.”

Finally, Sherlock’s mind comes back online again.

“Take me to bed, John. Please.”

“God, yes! And Sherlock?”

Sherlock looks down at John with wide eyes, trying his damnest to focus.

“Yes, John?”

“When you’re not busy kissing me; keep talking. Your fucking voice! God.”

“Oh, John,” Sherlock purrs, and concludes that his flatmate’s mended wings are about to unfold, enveloping them both in a cocoon of desire, bonding, and devotion.

***

Downstairs, Mrs Hudson sends a text.

It is resolved. Surveillance terminated.

At long last. Much obliged. M

---------------------------------------------------------------------

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♪ CHAPTER I: Too Far ♪ CHAPTER II: The Feeling of Death ♪ CHAPTER III: Bedside Table

He was relieved that decision to lower the rescue cradle to the ground and detach the winch cables had already been made.  It wasn’t the ideal way to load and secure people into the seats, but it would mean Gordon could get their five hapless hikers secured without the cradle rocking violently from every small twitch Two made above.  It shouldn’t be long now until Gordon gave the okay to re-lower the cables ready for extraction.

But the call Gordon gave over the comms was far from what Virgil was expecting.

“Virgil, I have eyes on your bogey aircraft, coming in fast and armed!  Get clear!  Repeat, get clear of the canyon!!”

His instrumentation confirmed what his younger brother had yelled.  Aircraft coming in from above and behind, slightly to starboard.  At the same time Two was buffeted by a gusty headwind.  Two wasn’t built for evasive manoeuvres even when space was not so limited, so all Virgil could do was blast the VTOL and climb as quickly as possible, and do what he could to avoid the rocky walls on either side.

“Weapons fire!”

Something exploded somewhere to starboard, buffeting Two sideways and forcing the port wing into the cliff face, grinding and tearing against the remaining five meters of rock until she reached clear air.

Warning lights lit up red on Virgil’s dash console.

Nothing structural on the starboard side, but the port wing had taken damage.  It was making evading the other aircraft difficult, and said bogey seemed to be tailing him, watching and waiting, but keeping Two within weapons range.

“Thunderbird Two, status report!” John demanded.

“Little busy right now Five!” Virgil growled through gritted teeth as he tried to compensate for the twisted cahelium while safely firing the main engines and gain some distance on the other plane.

John showed his relief at that simple answer by giving Virgil helpful stats instead.  “The GDF should be with you in two minutes.  Thunderbird One is on the way to the rescue location to pick up Gordon and the rescue cradle.”

In other words, get out of here and avoid taking further damage if you can!

After all, John would have access to most of the same warnings Two was flashing – port wing assembly damaged, hinge mechanism offline, potential damage to hydraulic line and electronics being the main concerns.

“FAB, Five.  Main engines seem to be unaffected, steering’s a little off and I won’t be able to fold the port wing, but I should be able to make it home as long as I don’t take another . . .”

The pilot of the hostile aircraft had apparently grown impatient and fired on Two again, this time exploiting the weakness of the broken wing.  Multiple explosions rippled along the port side, taking the port side engine offline and sending Two violently sideways and bathing the entire cockpit in the horrifying glow of red and amber warning lights.

Virgil was so busy trying to stop his ‘bird from rolling, while diverting what controls he could into working systems to compensate for those he’d lost, and attempting to keep her in the air with only one working main engine, that he almost didn’t register the fact he’d lost comms.

“Another what, Thunderbird Two?”  A fast series of critical warnings from Two lit up across John’s displays, and then a bunch of them blinked out again.  “Thunderbird Two, respond.”

No response.

“Virgil?”

Nothing.  He tried boosting the signal.

“Thunderbird Two, do you read?”