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jaskierswolf · 3 years ago

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The Prince of Darkness

Written for @thewitcherbog flash fic challenge a while back but I never posted!

Rating: M

Summary: Jaskier is the King of the Underworld, and it's Valdo's day of judgement.

CW: Demon!Jaskier (and witchers), implied sexual content, death, torture (burning, choking, freezing.), Jask has an open relationship with all the witchers (but Geralt is his favourite), mentions of non con.

The hotel lobby was sophisticated and yet traditional, like something out of a movie. The dark panelling on the walls were dimly lit by flickering candles, and there was a fireplace roaring in the centre of the foyer, and a handful of gorgeous golden-eyed beauties were making their way around the room. They were finely dressed, perfectly tailored suits with silken blood red waistcoats detailed with golden buttercups, a tray balanced on their hands as they passed out flutes of champagne. In the corner of the room was a black grand piano, the lid propped up as the man behind it let his fingers dance across the ivory keys, rings glistening silver and gold in the candlelight.

Jaskier smiled to himself as he played, his eyes shut, focussing on every little sound in the room, blending it with the music, manipulating the souls around him until they were practically eating out of his hand.

The Prince of Darkness, the mortals called him.

Lucifer himself.

He preferred Jaskier; buttercups were so beautiful, so innocent, so toxic.

It was the perfect moniker.

Lux was his domain, his hotel, a haven for demons and sinners alike, and the perfect stage for when Jaskier had to deal with… unpleasant business. The witchers, as he liked to call his inner circle of demons, would deal with the aftermath, cleaning up the elevator before any of Jaskier’s regular clientele could see.

The witchers were just such good pets.

Geralt approached the piano, his honey golden eyes almost entirely black as they approached the end of another poor soul’s contract. There was an itch that creeped under Jaskier’s skin, hot fire burning through his veins, but it didn’t bother him. No, he relished in the flames, let it warm his cold immortal body. Cracking an eye open, he peered at the witcher who had disturbed his music.

“He’s here, my lord.”

Jaskier sighed, bringing the music to an end, and then, with a snap of his fingers, the ivory keys started to play anew. The song was a familiar tune, a well known pop song from the mortals’ charts. It would keep his honoured guests entertained, after all, at Lux the party never-ended. Those who stepped through the swinging doors were transported to a realm of endless night; cocktails, champagne and designer clothes. The chandelier in the middle of the room twinkled, and there was a sharp clack of high heels on the granite floor as his guests mingled.

None of them ever seemed to realise there was something not quite right about Lux. When they were done partying, when Jaskier had made deals for their souls, they would leave and return to their realm as if they had only been there for an evening, never to return until their contract was up.

And they always returned.

Occasionally, a poor mortal would fight it, realising their impending doom. They’d try to flee the country, get as far away from Lux as possible, but the witchers were excellent hunters. Once the demons got the right scent, they could track their prey to the end of the known universe. The mortals never stood a chance. They either came willingly or they would be dragged through the doors by two of Jaskier’s finest demons; he wasn’t sure which he preferred.

Yes it was simpler if they accepted their fate, but he couldn’t deny that he just adored the thrill of watching the poor terrified soul being thrown at his feet.

He thought of himself as a kind devil, if such a thing existed, his father would certainly disagree, but his father could rot in heaven. Truly, Jaskier did his best to be fair. He granted the mortals wishes and made sure they lived their best lives, he even allowed most of them to live for many decades with the gifts he gave them, their deepest desires. Really, for some of the wishes he’d granted, it would have been kind to allow them even a year of life, let alone what he gave to them.

Ungrateful bastards, the lot of them.

Valdo Marx had been an easy soul to claim; he was greedy, lustful, full of pride. He’d practically begged at Jaskier’s feet back when he was in his first year of university.

“I want to be the best musician the world has ever seen, I want the most beautiful woman, Virginia Stael, to be my wife, and I want-”

Jaskier had waved his hand, his dark feathered wings spreading out behind him, and Valdo’s jaw had snapped shut, muffled sounds coming from his throat.

“I want, I want, I want,” Jaskier had cooed, his finger hooking under Valdo’s chin as he pouted down at the mortal, whipping his tail round to caress down the poor man’s arm until his wrist had been locked in a vice. “Do you know what I want… Marx?”

The wanna-be musician had scoffed, a fatal mistake and one that had cost him years off his life. “Everyone knows that, Lucifer.”

“My name, Valdo, is Jaskier,” he’d hissed, his forked tongue flicking out from his lips as more and more of his devil form had been revealed. “And I just want to have fun.”

“You want my soul.”

“No, your soul is the price. A mere business transaction. I just want to get wasted and shag my rather lovely demons, and you are wasting my time.”

Ah yes. Valdo had always been a little shit-stain in Jaskier’s life, but now his time had come.

The piano music began to build to an earth shattering crescendo, making the glasses rattle, and dust fall from the chandelier. Jaskier cracked his neck, feeling a prickling sensation on his scalp as his horns began to grow, and still the sweet, oblivious mortals noticed nothing. They sipped on their champagne and chatted amongst themselves, ignoring the way Jaskier’s cornflower blue eyes slowly turned onyx, his skin deathly pale. He smiled sweetly at his favourite witcher, running his lips along Geralt’s sharp cheekbones.

“Thank you, darling,” he breathed, capturing Geralt’s lips with his, tongues meeting in a quick but heated display of passion.

And then the doors burst open, Lambert and Aiden dragginga handsome but aging man through the doors, grey hairs dusting his temple, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. It had been a long time since Jaskier had seen Valdo Marx, but there was no denying his beauty, now distinguished, a true silver fox. Dark chocolate eyes met his as all the colour drained from Marx’s face.

“Oh God, no… no, please,” he stammered, struggling in the arms of the demons that held him.

“My dear father holds no power here,” Jaskier chuckled, smirking at the man at his feet. “There’s no use in praying. Your soul belongs to me.”

“Lu- Jaskier, please. I’m too young. It’s too soon,” Valdo begged, reaching up to Jaskier with open hands. “My wife, my children.”

“Oh but Valdo, It’s never too soon. I am never early and I never try to back out of a deal, darling,” Jaskier pouted, squatting so he was at eye level with the mortal. “So why don’t you come with me, love? Stop all this fussing. You’re ruining my party.”

With a fire not often seen in mortals, Valdo spat at Jaskier, and an eerie silence fell over the club. The piano music screeched to a halt, the lid closing with a bang, and the only sound was a low rumble of growls from the witchers. Geralt was at Jaskier’s side in a flash, his sword drawn and pointed at the man.

It was sweet.

As if Jaskier couldn’t defend himself, but he did enjoy the show, the way Geralt’s arms would flex as he gripped the sword, twirling it in a circle before executing his victim.

“I had planned to give you an easy death,” Jaskier lied, standing back up to his full demonic height and clearing his face with a snap, “but now, I think I’ll have some fun. Geralt, Eskel, with me. Lambert, Aiden, make sure our guests stay out of the way.”

“No!” Valdo cried, falling once more at Jaskier’s feet, gripping onto his ankles.

Oh, how he loved it when they begged for their lives.

When Jaskier glided through the foyer, picking up a champagne flute from Coen’s tray with barely a brush of his lips to the demon’s cheek, the crowd parted before him. Compliments fell off their tongues, sweet like honey, unaware of the influence Jaskier had over them. They all watched him, they always watched him, so very eager to please. Geralt snarled behind him as one brave mortal rested their hand on Jaskier’s arm, but it was Eskel who snapped their fingers, silent and deadly, before they’d even realised he was there.

Valdo was pulled into the elevator, tears streaming down his face and choked off screams ripping from his throat, but Jaskier remained calm, and if it weren’t for his eyes and the horns amongst his tousled brown hair, he would have looked like any other hotel owner.

Until the doors closed.

And then all hell broke loose; literally. Jaskier’s body cracked and snapped into place as his legs extended to inhuman proportions, his fingers growing into talons, and he let out a sinful moan as his wings unfurled behind him. He flicked out his tail, and his three-piece suit melted away into a gorgeous black silk corset, embroidered with golden buttercups. Red stockings adorned his legs, held up by lacy black garters, and as he flicked out his ankles, a pair of strappy heels materialised on his feet, the soles flashing red before clicking back onto the floor.

“Jaskier, please, please,” Valdo cried, falling against the side of the elevator as lightning sparked and they dropped fast, the dial on the wall spinning out of control.

“Your soul… belongs to me,” Jaskier hissed, pressing Valdo up against the wall, his hands wrapping around his throat.

He was tempted to snog Valdo’s soul right out of him, a sweet kiss to seal the deal, but that was too kind, and he was feeling a little more dramatic than that, so he pushed back off the wall, beating his wings so he hovered just off the floor. Geralt and Eskel were standing on either side of him, swords drawn with toxic black eyes, veins like ink beneath their skin.

Flames burst out behind them, whipping around so the whole elevator was surrounded by a burning pyre, singeing Valdo’s clothes, and the mortal screamed as the fire licked at his hand, scorching the calloused skin. His precious hands, his livelihood, the first things that Jaskier had blessed for him.

There was something so delightfully poetic in that, and Jaskier found great pleasure in it.

“Everyone always thinks that hell is eternal fire,” he purred, stroking a talon along Geralt’s cheek, before pulling Eskel into a soft kiss, taking his time to enjoy the taste of sulfur on his tongue, “but that isn’t always true.”

“W-what?”

Jaskier just pouted at Valdo. “Do try to keep up, darling.”

And then he snapped his fingers, the fire was suddenly extinguished, replaced by a flood of muddy tar. Valdo spluttered and choked as he slid to the ground, the tar catching in his hair, and wherever it landed his handsome looks withered away. The wedding band slipped from his finger and disappeared, despite Valdo’s desperate scrambling to find it.

The muddy mixture spewed all over the lift, covering the two demons as well as their victim, but Jaskier stayed clean and dry, untouched by the tar. He really wasn’t in the mood for ruining his clothes, not like this. He was rather hoping Geralt would tear them from his body later on that day whilst his other beloved witchers watched.

“J-Jaskier!” Valdo screamed, just as the entire elevator froze.

Blue ice creeped up the walls, wrapping around the legs of both the demons and the pitiful mortal on the floor. Valdo sobbed, trying to escape the ice but they both knew it was over. His back pressed against the wall as the ice grew, crystallising over his body, wrapping around his throat. Snowflakes fell from the ceiling, landing in his eyelashes as he struggled to breathe.

And Jaskier stole back his voice.

The final gift.

Valdo’s soul ripped from his body, and the man fell limp against the wall.

With a wave of his hand, Jaskier captured the soul, weaving his magic until a silver fox with chocolate brown eyes was nestled in his arms. He grinned, lowered the fox to the floor and then snapped his fingers to open the doors.

Before he left the elevator, his corset grew into a beautiful gown, split all the way up to his thighs, and his demonic features melted away. He patted Geralt once more on the cheek, pressing their lips together, before striding back into the foyer, not looking back at the frozen massacre he’d left behind. Beside him, a silver fox trotted along, a shadow of the man he used to be.

#the witcher #jaskier loves witchers #demon!jaskier #wolfie's witcher writing

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infinitegalahad · 4 years ago

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SHE WILL BE LOVED (Floyd Talbert X F! Reader)

Summary: Floyd drove for miles and miles, and still wounded up at the same door. Every. Single. Time.

Word-Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Slight mention of smut, past mentions of abuse/ rape

A/N: Based off of the Maroon Five Song. Not gonna lie, there old stuff is salvageable and can go hard, Overexposed is a great album. I have a love and hate relationship with this oneshot. I should be sleeping because I have to wake up at 7:50AM tomorrow but like...Floyd Talbert, am I right? Also, I'm working on dribbles. My inbox is acting strange so if you sent in anything, please send it in again, thank you! Hope you guys enjoy!

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @easy-company-tradition @liebgotttme @50svibes @ricksmorty

Masterlist | Add yourself to my taglist!

Women say men are all the same; A gentleman, at least what Floyd Talbert considered him, proves women wrong.

Floyd Talbert knew he was no good. He didn’t consider himself a playboy , even though he charmed a new girl every week and possibly took them to bed, but he definitely knew how to play the game. Heck, his friends called him the master of the game. Girls back home and Europe loved it when Tab would break their young hearts with his dashing smirk. Every week, he’d have a pretty lady or two hanging off of his arms, giggling and smiling at anything he did or said. It boosted his ego even bigger than it already was. What was there not to love? He got whatever he wanted, when he wanted, and he always was satisfied in the end.

Guys wished they were him and any girl he could get his hands on simply adored him. Floud Talbert was like Hercules, but more conceited and naive. He was too young for marriage and too old for foolish games. He liked the flamboyant lifestyle he lived, it kept him on edge. Besides, who would Floyd Talbert, the one, the only, change for?

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“Busy night?” You questioned, leaning against the counter, overlooking the packed bar. There was soft jazz in the backing music, singing, dancing, and loads of drunken men. Most of them were Americans. Alborune had been hosting the Paratroopers in the quaint little town. On the weekends, the pubs would turn into total clusterfucks, at least according to your boss.

Your boss looked at you and shrugged his shoulders, throwing a towel over his shoulder. “Unfortunately, and a lot of damn drunks,” He cursed. You looked behind him, seeing the American soldiers sloppily dancing with the local girls and even some of the waitresses. You could see the soldiers, their breaths of beer and hands grasping the waitresses' backs and butts, spinning them around as swing music played in the black. You had worked in a pub and knew how these relationships ended; divorce or after an awkward one night stand. Unfortunately, you had experienced the two of those more times then you could count on your fingers. Not wanting to get hurt, you made it official that you were here to do your job, make drinks, and serve the men. Nothing else and nothing more.

You bit your lip, letting out an inhale, “Another Friday night at the pub.”

“Jus’ be careful, you hear me?” Your boss warned. He was like a father towards you; an old man with sweet eyes. He always made sure the waitresses in his bar weren’t being harassed in the pub. “And whatever you do-”

“Don’t get yourself into trouble,” You repeated as you tied the apron onto your hips, “I know. ‘S not like I’ll be getting into it anytime today, or at all.”

At the bar you worked at, most of the waitresses were the most beautiful women you had ever seen. They looked like they belonged in Hollywood with their soft curls, red lips, and large breasts. They were always either chatting up a storm with a Paratrooper, giving a paratrooper a motorboat, dancing with a Paratrooper, or sneaking with a Paratrooper to the back of the Pub. It was because they were beautiful on the outside, but not within. The men weren’t smart enough to see that. All they desired was a pretty girl to use and then dispose of the next day. It occasionally made you a tad bit jealous. You knew how childish it was, but you wanted to be that girl who was loved not only for her looks, but her personality. Loved for who you truly were. But you reminded yourself that it was better if you kept yourself out of the limelight.

You had begun your shift, taking orders and rushing to the counter to make two full trays of beer in your hands. The night was so far going well. A few of the men had hit on you, but it was nothing new or special. You simply ignored it, doing your mundae little schedule.

Rosie was one of your co-workers. She was everything you wished to be; pretty, bubbly, and got everything she wanted. Every week, Rosie would wrap another Paratrooper around her finger. However, she began to play their game as well. Rosie took pleasure in twisting the mind’s of the Paratroopers and breaking their hearts, finding entertainment in it. She was a tease and took great pride in it. As much as you wanted to be her, seeing the Paratroopers have drinking games and even fights over her hand in “marriage” or “too see her glorious caboose”, you stopped and questioned yourself with emotion and logic. Was she truly happy doing this? Was she trying to fill a void in her life? Was she more of an object then a woman? Was it moral of her to break hearts as well?

You saw Rosie sitting next to a young Paratrooper as they made out passionately, hands traveling across each other's bodies. You couldn’t help but look and see their burning desire and hunger for each other. Rolling your eyes, you walk around the crowded bar, the strong smell of Alcohol and vintage jazz pleasing your ears. Every table was full, and as much as you dreaded it, it was your job to go around and ask what the men wanted.

You approached the first time and put on a counterfeit red smile, tilting your head as you chirped to the men. They all turned to you, half smiles and tired eyes, begging for more alcohol. You simply took the groups and wrote down their orders, going from man to man until you reached the end of the table.

“And what would you like?” You asked, preparing your pen and pushing it against your tiny notebook.

The man at the end of the table was conversing with her friends. He first turned his head, greeting you

with his big hazel eyes. You observed his boyish features of ruffled golden hair, a babyface, and lightly tanned skin. Sure, he was handsome, but so was every other man in this bar. He looked at you up and down, a smirk forming at the edge of his lips before he turned his whole body around to face you. He leaned on the edge of the table and simply stared at you, like he was in awe.

“You,” He spat, earning a laugh from all of his friends.

Through your smile, you grit your teeth. “As If I’ve heard that one a million times..” It was a lie, that was the first time you had ever heard that in a while. You weren’t pretty enough to be noticed, but this time was apparently an expectation. “Do you want me to get you a menu?”

You pointed his finger at you, “Like I said-you.” He stood up and smirked, holding his hands out. “You-me, I think we’d make a pretty great match.”

“How would we make a great match If I’ve known you for less than a minute?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows. “I could be mean.”

“Oh, come now. You're gorgeous, I’m handsome.” He persisted. Great, not one of these. “Besides, I like challenges. Just be warned, I always win them miss…” He hesitated on your name before continuing, “Your name, doll?”

“Your order?” You said as you tapped your pen against your notebook. His little nickname had your cheeks flush a little. Thank god the pub had been litlety dimmed. “Please?”

“A beer and your name, please.” He politely requested. “I don’t believe I’m asking for much.”

You looked at him with a sarcastic and puzzled expression, “Why do you care so much about knowing my name? You seem like the type who would forget by the next morning.”

His friends made “ohing” noises like middle schoolers like a teacher would reprimand one of their friends. The cocky bastard let out a chuckle, flashing his pearly whites in a cocky smile. “Well, it depends. You’re feisty-I like it. Since it’s gonna be a while before we have anything going on between us, I best thought I’d make us familiar with each other. It’ll take some time for you to fall for me, but when you do, you’ll be lucky.”

This man could not be for real. It wasn’t a man, but a boy. But on the outside, he was so god damn handsome. He looked like a homewrecker, but god damn, he did a good job of being one. Your boss's word’s of staying out of trouble were lingering from your mind now, and so quickly.

“You’re not gonna shut up until I tell you my name now, are you?”

He shook his head, “Where’s the fun in that, dollface?”

You wrote down his order for beer and then looked up, a smirk, “Y/n. Now you?”

“Y/n, a good name for a good girl. I’ve met a lot of y/n’s, but none like you. They fell into my arms like flies, but you aren’t like that. Just yet,” He joked, earning an eye roll from you. “It’s only fair If I tronduce myself, Sergeant Floyd Talbert,” He gave you a quick salute before relaxing, ‘But you can call me Tab, your boyfriend, or that silver fox that swept you off of your pretty little feet.”

“I think Tab will be good. Just try not to forget my name now, even though my expectations aren’t very high.” You sassed. He gave you an air kiss and you simply gave him a side eye, holding the tray and notebook to your chest as you ushered back to the counter to retrieve Beers. As you prepared them, you thought about Floyd Talbert. There were thousands of men like him. Good for nothing players who were too damn handsome for their own goods. Floyd Talbert was the type of man your parents would warn you to stay clear of since their middle names were trouble in all capitals.

But if he was so bad, then why was he so good to look at it?

Back at the bustling table, Floyd had kept his eyes on you. He watched your eyemove, like a hunter with its prey. He saw you converse with other waitresses, turn down compliments from other paratroopers, and do your job. He wasn’t one for formality, especially in the dating fields. It wasn’t what he was accustomed to doing. By now, the two of you would’ve been in the back of the pub, faulting to get your clothes off of each other for a wuckie. But you were different, you were a special case that Floyd knew would take a lot of investigating,

“Why’d you ask for her name?” Malarkey asked, knocking Floyd out of his trance. “You say it’s not good to ask for a dame’s name. You know, to make it easier.”

Floyd didn’t look over at Malarkey and simply stared at you, filling the large drinks with beer. He pulled on his lip, slumped on the chair. He always knew the answer for everything, he always had a solution.

But this time, it was different.

Floyd had gone into one of the bathrooms with a waitress, who simply smirked at him. Her whole face had trouble written her face, and so did he. She had red lipstick, bedroom eyes, and the nicest rack Floyd had ever seen. He knew from that moment that he would use his words to woo her. After a brief conversation of aggressive flirting, her and Floyd headed to the bathrooms with the blonde, angrily took their clothes off, and fucked. It was quick and there was not a single word spoken between the two. Floyd loved the attention and girls he got, but he never got a relationship or word out of them. He only cared for their looks, which even he knew was shallow. But it was all he knew how to do. If they seemed happy, so was he. But inside, was he truly happy with this lifestyle he lived? Did he like leaving a girl heartbroken the next morning with no goodbye? Did it make him happy?

And yet, he never asked for her name or had a small conversation with her. After they finished, she simply cleaned herself up and left, acting like nothing had happened. Floyd acted like that too, it was easy to put on a facade. He brushed back his ruffled hair and looked at himself in the mirror. He liked what he saw on the outside, but what did he like on the inside?

He still thought about the girl who had served him, y/n, who was not like his other targets. Y/n rejected his advances and twisted his words, which even Talbert found entertaining. He didn’t know this girl very well, but he wanted to. Flirt with her and talk to her, heck-even have a drink with her.

His hyperixation with Y/n wasn’t going to be ending anytime soon.

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So Floyd did what he did best-he kept coming back to the Pub. He would come with the men from Easy Company, and sometimes on his own. There he’d find y/n, who’d roll her eyes as he’d walk over and make another “amazing” attempt at flirting. His comments weren’t very creepy, after all, he was a gentleman. You had seen him around the bar before, but never learned his name. You always saw him as the handsome player with a blonde or brunette on his arm. Sure, he had that classic boyish look every girl and guy wished or wanted, but under all that hair gel and his pristine uniform-was he doing it all for his own pleasure? Did he think of women as toys he could throw away the next day, just like had been before? So you did what you did best-keep your distance and roll your eyes at his remarks.

But everytime he walked in and the doorbell would ring, signifying his presence, your hand would grasp against the cloth you were holding to wash down the bar counter..

Floyd kept his promise and kept being persistent with winning your heart. He’d walk in and lean against the counter, saying your name like a sweet singsong. You’d serve him a drink, and he’d tell you about his day and occasionally flex his muscles. At first glance, Floyd seemed a boorish boy; the one who’d brag how he’d conquer multiple women like they were countries. You knew boorish men all too well, and didn’t need another one to increase your pessimistic view on romance.

While much has Floyd loved to boast about himself, he also loved to talk about you. He always complimented your outfits, asked about your day, and even scared off the creepy paratrooper’s who’d get too close for comfort. When Floyd would talk to you, he’d look directly into your eyes and respectfully listen. And he remembered the tiniest of details, such as your little daughter or your neighbor, an edlery women, who’d pester you about marriage and cooking.

“So, how’s Ms.Walsh?” He asked as you placed a Beer in front of him. He had a shit eating grin on his face, so you already knew where this was going. “Did you tell her about your new man?”

You shrugged your shoulders and played it off, “Much to your dismay, I did not. I’m still single.”

“Funny that you say that, y/n. Next time, tell her that you have a very handsome and strong Paratrooper with a dog. I think Trigger will like Poppy a lot.” Floyd boasted as he kept his eyes on you, leaned against the counter with your arms crossed. “Poppy will get used to Trigger, just like us.”

Every Time he’d throw a remark at you, you’d throw it back with a tint of sarcasm. You had learned how to play his game, but occasionally loosened up. Floyd wasn’t a bad guy at all, his ego was big, but he didn’t have any cruel intentions when it came to you. He treated you like a human, with feelings and emotions. He always asked about your day, how you were, made you feel better when you were sad, and did anything to make you happy. So you broke out of your ice a little and did what he did to you in return; show him kindness. You’d finally sit with him at the bar if it wasn’t busy and talked to him.

It was hard to deny, but as much as you hated it, you were falling in love with him. It was hard to resist him, his words were as smooth as silk. Whenever he’d see you, he’d call out your name and would make sure everybody knew you were his-or at least that’s what you thought. The girls you worked with in the bar tried to flirt with him, but much to your surprise, he would push them all away-just for you. All of his attention was focused on you, and only you.

You were beyond conflicted. Your head was telling you to simply be friendly and civil, but your heart was leading you to pursue this romance. You were torn between logic and emotion. One part of you loved him, one part of you hated him. You hated the way he made you feel, think, blush, and do things. Floyd was taking over your life, whether you liked it or not. Whatever you and Floyd had going on was no longer on thin ice. The two of you were deep in the water scuba diving, together.

The bar was busy at night, but tonight was different. It was less busy than usual and much quieter. The ambience was peaceful, soft souls playing in the background with the warm lights dimmed. Your manicured nails tapped at the counter as you observed the setting; some paratroopers drinking, a paratrooper cuddled with a fellow girl in town, and a waitress casually conversing with the costumors. Only a few more hours and you could finally return home with little Luna, nestled in your warm bed, alone and safe from the cruel world.

The little bell on top of the door had rang, alerting the whole bar of a new customer. You turned your head and bit your lip upon seeing the incoming danger. Great, your shift had just become a whole lot more entertaining.

Floyd was donning his new uniform, cap and gelled hair. He strutted across the bar to you, knowing that he was handsome. He knew he was hot shit and wanted to make sure everybody knew. He came up right to the bar counter and leaned against up.

“Miss y/n…” He greeted in his boyish voice, looking up and down at your figure as he usually did. He stopped at your face. You never wore makeup, and if you did, it was barely noticeable to the naked eye. However, Floyd noticed you looked different tonight. You had a bright shade of red on your lips, a light rogue pressed onto your cheeks, and a soft eyeshadow to match your (y/e/c) eyes. It was soft, just like Floyd perceived you as. “Are you wearing makeup?”

You nodded and looked down, feeling your heart skip a beat. You tried to snap back at him, but your body forced you to look and not embarrass yourself. “Yes. I suppose I try something new, to make myself look somewhat put together.”

Floyd looked puzzled at your response, “Put together? You always look gorgeous, I don’t know what you mean.”

Keeping your gaze down, you were finding it difficult to be around him. The room got darker and you felt a cold sweat overcome your body. You weren’t asking for his sympathy. Of course he saw this and found another way to flirt with you. You refused to give him the satisfaction he wanted, even though you did enjoy his kind words. You shook your head, “You don’t have to lie, Floyd.”

“I never lie. Look at me, y/n,” Floyd stated as his fingers tipped your chin up. His grasp was as light as a feather. The two of you made eye contact with each other. His fingers rested on your chin for longer than you both expected. His long fingers slided away as he caught a glimpse of your face so close, noticing all the little features about you. “You’re beautiful, without all of this and with this. I don’t know if you could deny it. If a man doesn’t find a dame like you gorgeous, then they must need glasses.”

You looked at him and back down, scrambling to find your words. Romance was something that you hated. It should have made you feel happy and left you with a good relantishop, but instead you were left with broken hearts and scared. As much as you wanted to love and be loved, it was hard to. You were scared of getting hurt again but Floyd Talbert made you reconsider. And your mind was stubborn. You didn’t want to reconsider, all you wanted to do was stay in your old ways and be alone. But how long were the two of you going to play this game of cat and mouse? How long could it go on?

Every time Floyd tried to leave you, he always ended up back at your door, hoping you’ll finally open up to him; by either literally opening her door or letting him into her heart. Floyd’s way’s, the small and big things, illustrated his dedication to winning your heart. Floyd was willing to drive for miles to end up with you, and he wished you would appreciate his effort.

“Well, I guess you need glasses then,” You smirked and turned around to fix Floyd a beer, his favorite drink. He always liked the glass to be half way since he wasn’t a real drinker, he was more of a social one. You had picked up on that after befriending him. But was he a friend? Someone who you were in love with? What was he to you, and what were you to him?

Placing the beer in front of him, you attempted to walk away, but Floyd even knew you weren’t getting away that easy.

“Sit with me,” He requested, patting the empty barstool next to him. You opened your mouth to protest, but he already beat you to it, “Nobody’s here. Just one drink, and I’ll leave you be.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked over and towards Talbert to sit across from him. Instead of patting the barstool, he was now patting his lap with a look of lust and humor. Knowing that he was teasing you, you chuckled and sat on the barstool.

“Okay, you have me now.” You said as you put your hands up, ‘Why do you want me here?”

“I wanna know the pretty dame behind all of the makeup,” Floyd responded as he pulled on his lower lip, “Tell me about you. Home, your cat, everything.”

“One minute you want to marry me, the next you want to know my life story…” You replied as you also leaned onto the counter, “If you want to know so badly, then you go first. Tell me your life story.”

And so Floyd Talbert did. He told every little detail he could about himself from his family, Kokomo, his love for fishing, his four brothers-basically, his whole life story. Floyd had no problem openly sharing his problems with the world, especially you. He was fine telling you about his dad not being present, working odd jobs in high school, not attending college-he was ok with it. He accepted and loved himself, as you could clearly see. You on the other hand couldn’t understand how open he could be with himself, in relationships and in general.

The hard front of Floyd’s boot gently kicked your heel, his toe caressing against your bare ankle. A chill was sent up your spine as you looked up at him, straightening his back.

“You seemed so interested that you started drooling,” He commented, a smirk on his face.

You gave him a puzzled expression before you could notice the sticky sensation at the corner of your lip. Groaning in embarrassment, you looked for a napkin to wipe the drool from. Before you could find a napkin, Floyd had grabbed a handkerchief from his breast pocket and grabbed your chin gently, wiping the side of your mouth. He held you like you were made of glass, easily broken by a little infraction, which was partially true.

Once Floyd removed his fingers, he handed you the handkerchief. “Here, for you.’ He slicked his honey hair back, “Some ladies would kill for that.”

Hearing the comment, you rolled your eyes and shoved it into your apron. “Hardy Har Har, thank you.”

“Ok, enough about me. What about you?” Floyd said as he scooted his chair towards you, resting his arms on the counter with his chin gliding against his palm. “I’d like to know more about my dame.”

You looked at him and back down, biting your lip. A sarcastic comeback crossed your mind, but somehow you couldn’t spit out the words. The possessive word made you freeze in place as your grasp tightened around your drink. Nobody had called you in years.

“I’m no one’s,” You stated, taking a long sip of your drink, “I’m boring. I grew up in Albourne, always have been here. I have a daughter, I like to read, smoke, I-”

“I know that, but I want to know what’s in here.” Floyd pointed a finger at your head and heart. It was sweet, and even adorable. As much as you wanted to give into his warmth, the ice that surrounded your heart began to freeze.

“Come on, darling. Don’t play so hard to get, I know it’s not easy. Just loosen up a little for once. I can tell you that I’m stubborn, just like you. I like a challenge, and I always win,” Floyd cockily stated, which only pushed your buttons. The closer he scooted his chair towards you, the more you felt like screaming at the top of your lungs. “Stop being so scared and jus-”

“My goddess gracious, shut up!” You exclaimed loudly, burying your hands in your face. Floyd, respecting your wishes, shut up and was left speechless, his face contorted. What had he done wrong? He hadn’t touched you at all.

“You know, I’ve been with guys just like you. Total flirts, sleep with whoever they want and do whatever they want. They don’t care, just as long as it doesn’t affect them. God forbid If a woman does that, she’s considered a whore,” You ranted, “Guys like you are bad news. You treat us like objects that you can use and then throw out the next day. I know this game-you don’t care about me or my feelings at all, do you?” You looked away from him, holding back years, “After all, you said you wanted honesty, so there.”

Floyd was shocked at your sudden rant. He considered you sweet and quiet. This was the most he had ever heard come out of your mouth. Normally, he wouldn’t be moved by these things since they never occurred. This was his longest “flirting avvenire” he had experienced in years. His heart broke at your words. Being ashamed of himself, he attempted to fix what had been broken.

“Y/n, that’s not what you think. I know I’m like that, and it’s no excuse. But you’re…” Floyd stopped and let out an exhale with a red face, “different. When I first looked at you, I thought I died. I haven’t talked to any other dame since-you’re the only one that matters. I think about you whenever I’m not with you. Y/n, I think I lo-”

You let out a dry laugh, “Yeah. You may talk to me, make me laugh and say the sweetest things...but how many other girls are you doing that to? How many other girls have you shamed for being your property? How many girls have you slapped for looking at another man for less than a second? How many other girls have you forced yourself on and left them with a child you never wanted? Tell me, I’d love to hear.”

Floyd listened to your words carefully, analyzing them. The thought processed on his head, and instead of looking offended, his face softened. He looked sad and pained. Even though you had said a little, Floyd could piece together your past. He felt like an idiot for not knowing. No wonder you were cold and distant. From what it seemed, you had been not only physically abused, but touched without your consent and forced to take care of a child you didn’t want. Floyd felt terrible for you. It was no longer a game anymore, it was serious.

“Y/n...I’m sorry. I never knew. I feel like an idiot for not knowing. I’m not like that. I’d never do something like that I-”

“You sound just like him. All of you are the same. You put on a fake little smile and say sweet little things,” You ranted as you pushed yourself out of the chair to walk out. Floyd cursed under his breath and followed you right out, “Then bomb, under your control.”

“Y/n-”

Slamming the door open, your feet angrily stomp through the mud. You don’t care if you're sinking. You don’t know where you're going, but you want to be as far away from Floyd as possible.

You turned around and pointed a blaming finger at his chest, “Don’t interrupt me. You're so damn manipulative. From the minute you sat down, I could see that you wanted me in your bed. My biggest mistake wasn’t falling for you, it was thinking you had fallen for me.”

Floyd didn’t say anything and watched you turn over and run a hand through your neatly done up hair and makeup, which both became unruly.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. Floyd walked over and grabbed your hands in an attempt to win you back, “I know it’s cheesy, but you're changing me. I tried to move on, but I can’t. Just let me help you. I can be whatever for you. A friend, a lover, anything. I had no idea what you had gone through. Can you let me inside so I can help you?” He was serious, this was no joke to him or you, “Let’s stop this game of cat and mouse. Honesty is number one here.”

You threw his hands away and began to back away, black tears streaming from your caked face. The nice outfit, soft hair, and pretty dress all for him. It was blind ignorance. How dumb you felt and looked.

“Goodbye, Floyd.” Is all you said before you hastily turned around and left him alone. You could imagine his gorgeous face, all heartbroken. Deep inside, you hated doing this. Breaking hearts, just like Floyd did.

But you and Floyd were different. He was the archer and you were the prey in the big scheme of things. In your world, to prevent history from repeating itself, it is better to be safe than sorry.

-----------

You always left your door unlocked. Albourne was home, you had never left in. You knew your neighbors well enough. They liked you and your bubbly little daughter enough. Whenever you’d come home from work, she would run up to your feet and smile at you. Her smile would remind you of the man that shattered your heart, but there was something special about Poppy. She was not his, but yours, the light in that dark relationship. You made sure she was loved every single day and put her happiness over yours.

Another girl had taken your shift for the night, which made you relieved. You had a whole day to yourself, and Poppy. It was an indoors day due to the heavy rain. You accomplished from cleaning with the help of Poppy, some reading, and a game of princess and dragons. You were the dragon and Poppy played the role of the princess, and her stuffed animal the prince. The way she played the prince triggered the thoughts of Floyd.

After cleaning up, Floyd would infect your mind like a parasite. After you had bid him goodbye, you hadn’t seen him since. You had seen his friends at the bar and around town, but not him. Why did you miss him? You made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with him. You couldn’t stand being hurt again, even if a part of you, just a tiny one, considered feelings.

When Poppy had drifted off into a nap, you decided to go check out the rain. The garden you had built outside was weighed down by the heavy amount of train. You slowly walked into the rain as you felt your hair stick to your face and the clothes on your body become all moist. It was like taking a shower, it was beautiful. Closing your eyes, you tilted your head up and let the rain pour down your face and body.

The rain suddenly stopped falling into your mouth and clothes. Confused, you had thought it stopped raining. You opened your eyes and instead of a gray sky, you were met with the black top of an umbrella, being held by none other than Floyd Talbert.

“What are you doing in the rain?” He asked casually as he put a hand on your waist, walking with you to the cover of your house. He was drenched too, but you were soaking wet. “You’re gonna get sick.”

You blinked a few times to make sure what you were seeing and hearing was real. You stuttered and pointed at you, “Floyd...oh...I...how did you..?”

“Waitresses at The Pub. I got worried, I didn’t see you at the pub.” He explained not to sound stalkerish, “I looked everywhere for you because I needed to talk to you. Please, I know you hate me, but before I go, I might not come back. I rather tell you then die with it.”

You had forgotten there was a war that Floyd was a part of. He would soon be shipped off to Europe and be gone for forever or an indefinite amount of time. His hazel orb’s begged for your attention, and you were finding it hard to resist.

“Since you’re here...I suppose it’s only fair.” You accepted, “Go on.”

“I was thinking about what you told me, and it made me think too. I used to not do it a lot, until I met you,” He admitted, “Y/n, I know it’s crazy, but I could’ve sworn I died when I first looked at you. My heart stopped and I didn’t know what to say when you came over to me. You were sweet, quiet, and drop dead gorgeous. No other dame mattered to me, only you did. When I was with you, I only thought about you and what you wanted to do. You’re in my dreams and thoughts when I’m not with you. I think about you a lot, and...I love you, angel, as crazy as I sound.”

“I know what you’ve gone through and I’m sorry. But, I want to help you. I want to make you feel beautiful and loved. You know I’m there for you in whatever way you want, as a friend or a lover. I’m always a door away, and you know that y/n. But I love you more than anything in the world, and I want to show that to you in whatever way I can.”

You didn’t know what had triggered the kiss. Maybe it was Floyd’s speech, the hand on the small of your back, or his wet uniform. You didn’t respond with words and leaned in. Floyd didn’t protest and dived right into the kiss, his hands wrapped around your waist and back for support. The girls at your job were right, he was the best kieer you had ever met. He was gentle with you, his plump lips felt like heaven on your lips. It was a genius and heartfelt kiss. He could taste your lipstick and you could taste his cologne after the two of you had far gone.

There the two of you stood, wrapped in each other's arms as the rain poured down onto you.

You looked up and grabbed Floyd’s hand, nudging your head. “I’ll get you some warm clothes. I can make you a drink, if you please. Tea, coffee, anything.”

Floyd walked right beside you and pulled you in close for warmth. He planted a kiss on your wet hair, “You?” You looked at him with that motherly glare, which earned you a giggle. “You did say anything I wanted.”

“Well, I guess I did,” You raised your eyebrows and smiled. You leaned into his shoulder as you walked back into your little cottage, Floyd holding you close to his side.

You ended up serving him Tea. Poppy had woken up from her nap and followed Floyd around like a dog, believing that her wish of a father had come true. Floyd was intent on making Poppy’s dreams come true. Poppy would rave about the stories she wrote as you sat on Floyd’s lap, a blanket sprawled on your lap. His hand would play with the ends of your loose hair as you leaned in his chest, a soft smile on your face.

You had made dinner for three instead of two that night. As you cleaned the dishes, Floyd had read Poppy a story and sent her to sleep. He promised her that the next time he came over that she would get to meet Trigger and walk him. After Poppy had fallen asleep, Floyd came back to the kitchen and carried you to your room. The two of you got rid of your dirty clothes and left them sprawled on the ground, jumping into the bath with each other. He made sure that you were pampered that night as he washed your body and hair, massaged your back, planted kisses on your body, complimented you every other second, and did thousands of little things that would make a girl go head over heels. He took you to your bed and wrapped you in warm blankets and even made you a cup of tea. He knew he was going to get in trouble, but he stayed behind with you and cuddled with you until you fell asleep for “warmth”. It was cliche, but you absolutely loved it. Floyd’s radiance and warmth had melted away that icy barrier.

And with that, Floyd truly made you feel loved once again.

#Floyd Talbert #floyd talbert imagine #band of brothers #Floyd Talbert x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #old maroon 5 slaps #carrie's writing

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ninjakasuga · 3 years ago

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Sonsally Celebration Week, Year 3, Day Four!

Sonally Celebration Week, Year 3, Day Four!

Another day of Sonsally Week, unlike the last few entries, this is where I break linearity and go travel back to a prior period in the timeline. When the prompt of ‘Power’ was shown my mind of course went to the Super-Forms, the Deep Power Stones, and the like. Yet also my mind went back to some fanart from last year about a certain someone I would have loved to have seen share a Super Form with Sonic… Y’all can see where this is going.~

Forward: Timeline wise, this is 9-10yrs before Crossroads; the last battle of the war with Dr. Eggman. I admit I’m once again sprinkling tidbits from my still WIP Archie-Sonic-Verse that has yet to be published, but I think the easter eggs and hints of things yet to be seen will be fun for the reader.

Power:

“Sal, are you flipping insane?!” Cried Sonic as he stared Sally down at her suggestion. “You want to use the Deep Power Stones to amplify our Super Forms? What about all that ‘overload potential’ nonsense?!”

Standing beside Sonic, one eye on the half of the Deep Power Stone in her hand, the other on the approaching Egg Armada. A legion of robots, ships, and what other mechanical horrors Eggman had left to try and quash them all for good. With the world-wide alliances winning victory, after victory, Eggman grew desperate and now was throwing everything he had at them in a ‘If I can’t have it no one will!’ tantrum of a scorched world move. Basically it was done to the wire, and now they were as desperate as Eggman.

Her grip tightened on the stone, that madman would not have the last laugh. He wouldn’t end their world as he did the Mobius he came from! “It’s something I was thinking about for awhile, Sonic. We’ve seen what the stones can do just augmenting the individuals who bring the stones together. If we bring that kind of augmentation to the Super Forms? We have the Master Emerald already channeling to empower the Seven Chaos Emeralds, imagine channeling the Stones through it to the Emeralds and the Power Rings. All of you could not just have a greater power boost, but potentially the forms will last longer, long enough to wreck most if not all of the Egg Armada and put an end to this war for good!”

“It might work…” Murmured Tails, standing on the other side to Sally. “Channeling the Stones' power through the Master Emerald, which itself is a beacon and conduit for the Seven Servers…” He began to murmur as his brain went over the numbers and possible calculations. As the two-tailed fox finished his thoughts, he turned to the Guardian of Angel Island, wanting his thoughts. “The Master Emerald is your expertise Knuckles, you think it will work?”

The red-furred Guardian furrowed his brow as he contemplated this. “Maybe, I admit while my communion with Tikal or my Great Grandfather has given me greater insight to the mystical aspects of the Master Emerald, I’m still a novice truth be told.” He sighed, looking apologetic. “Sadly I know more of the scientific side of things given the Brotherhood’s data mostly focuses around that. Even my Father’s old notes are more historical musings than proven theory.” He sighed again, mentally cursing his forebears for yet another aspect of oversight the Brotherhood neglected during their long tenure of guarding Angel Island. Then again, save for the Lost Tribe, it would seem most of the old mystic arts were lost to the Echidna of today, what few were left. “Given we’ve found many connections to the old mystical artifacts of the world, there’s a good chance they’ll work together as Sally thinks.”

A low growl-like ‘hmm’ punctuated the air, before a stern voice interjected aloud. “Or it will overload the Emerald, destroy it, and fry all of us, or potentially create a super-bomb.” Shadow stated with arms crossed, and looking pensive. As all looked his way, he spoke on. “I’m not saying we ditch the idea, but it’s something to consider. I have a vow to protect this world to uphold, as well as too many I care about to let them die.” His thoughts dwelled on Rouge, Omega, and Hope especially. His other comrades within G.U.N. and the Thorndyke Labs. Even of those here, despite any past animosity, he wanted them and their loved ones to equally live. They all had family, and friends to protect.

The last member of the group, his expression uneasy, yet a deep resolve in his eyes looked about his comrades, and then the horizon as their enemy continued to fly toward them. “We don’t really have a choice do we? This is the last chance, for all of you, as well as the Future I want to prevent from coming to pass.” Clenching his fists, Silver felt his powers hum through his being. It had been a long journey, and one not without many hurdles. From his bungling to interpret data from then Future, and its founding in the past, to dealing with the truths of his own ‘Master’ and the struggle of wondering if he was truly a pawn to bring about ‘his’ world versus a world for everyone to be happy. In the end he was wiser, more experienced and ever resolute to ensure the dark future never came to pass. All other obstacles save Eggman had been dealt with. This was the final hour. “So, save for Sonic we’re all in agreement?”

Hands on his hips, Sonic frowned deeply, looking rather indignant. “Hey, hey! I never said scrap the plan, I was just pointing out how before everyone kept yammering about doing something stupid with the Stones. Given either configuration usage done wrong could lead to KAB-BOOM! Jus’ pointing that out!” Eyeing everyone, his gaze rested on Sally, those deep blue pools that always sucked him in. Reaching for her hand, he wrapped his hand over hers, their wedding rings shining in the sun together. “You think this is our best bet, Sal? If you’re really onboard, so’m I.”

In truth, Sally did share the same concerns as Sonic and everyone else. She knew even using just the ‘boost’ augment which so far had been the safest, could lead to disaster as much as the other configuration which always ended destructively. Plus this would be the last time they could use them. As per Merlin Prower’s warning, the Deep Power Stones could be used a handful of times, and the mystic had given them warning they were on their last usage. This was due to a special magical limiter the Neo-Walkers put on the Stones, halving their ability so the Freedom Fighters and their allies could have an edge. However with the last use, the limiter was off, and so it was full power, and potentially the best opportunity for the worst case scenario. After this the Stones would vanish for another millennia until they were recharged and reappear randomly about the planet again.

Yet as Silver pointed out, what choice did they really have? Eggman was going all out; and thus, their hands were tied. “It’s the best shot we have. G.U.N.’s mechanized forces are exhausted and what isn’t in the repair bay is out fighting the forces encroaching their borders. None of the rest of the allied nations have any armies big enough to fight this horde. We can’t call for help from Blaze or any other friends from other dimensions because the Zone Cops sealed all dimension travel to Mobius Prime to prevent Eggman from escaping. This, this, is all we can do.” Her resolve sounded unshakable, despite her internal doubt, she had to sound resolute. Matching her gaze with Sonic, she managed a grin as she laced her fingers with his. “Let’s do-it-to-it, gang!”

Smiles formed about at the catch-phrase that was so infectious even Shadow was sucked in. One by one, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow and Silver joined in placing their hands over each other, forming a lock. “Let’s do-it-to-it! They all cried, before breaking to get into place. While Sally stood by the Master Emerald with Knuckles, the others began to loop around the Master Emerald, each linking their hands together. From Shadow to Silver, to Tails, to Sonic. Instead of holding Knuckles’ hand, Sonic placed his own on the Echidna’s shoulder. Knuckles did the same with Sally, while his free hand touched the Master Emerald. Sally held the Deep Power Stones in each hand, waiting for the right moment to place them together. Craning her head to Knuckles she nodded, and he nodded back, his gaze shifting to the large emerald his bloodline made their mission to protect along with Angel Island itself (well Echidna population for them, Knuckles was out to protect everyone).

“The servers are the Seven Chaos… Chaos is power, enriched by the heart… The controller exists to unify the chaos!” As he started the chant, he briefly saw a flash of Tikal within the Master Emerald, smiling at them all. This allowed Knuckles to smile, but he didn’t let this distract him. “We who are blessed by the Chaos, beseech to wield your power and wisdom, to save the planet and the innocent lives that dwell upon it. Let us be the Guardians of Mobius, of the Chaos, and the Light of Gaia!”

“We will gladly give our lives if you can let us protect all we love, please help us.” Murmured Sally, interjecting her own addition once Knuckles’ incantation chant was finished. Staring at the two halves of the stones, Sally placed them together, the halves flashed as they became one. An intense glow emanating from the black object that soon blinded them all. A bright, green glow from the Master Emerald broke through the white, with the gathered Power Rings (including Sonic’s Billionth Special Ring) all giving off a golden glow as the colors mingled together. A pillar of the mingled colors erupts from the Master Emerald’s resting place, shooting up, and up into space as the island is bathed in its warm glow.

Tails was the first to regain his sight, and once the relief they did not explode passed through him, a wide grin formed on his face as he felt it, the power of his Super Form. Not only that but he could ‘feel’ the power was increased. “Alright I think it worked!” He hollered, pumping his arms as he felt the power of Turbo Tails peak and flare briefly. “Hooo it’s been a long spell!”

Shadow merely made a ‘heh’ sound, yet smiled as he stared at his own glowing hands. “Yes, I can feel it, now those machines can feel Super Shadow’s fists and Chaos Spears.”

“This still blows me away with how powerful it makes me feel.” Murmured Silver as he marveled at his Super Silver transformation.

“Oh holy crap…” They heard Knuckles utter, followed by Sonic stammering “S-S-Sal?”. Everyone turned their heads and gasped in awe.

“Oh, my God…” Was all Sally could murmur. Her fur was a pink-orange tinge, and her hair a golden glow, flowing freely from the sheer power itself. “H-how? I thought only those with a tie to the Chaos Force could achieve super form?!”

“Maybe the powers that be felt you were worthy.” Knuckles mused, giving a nodding approval to this development. The light-pink glow of his Hyper Knuckles form, arcing with energy like everyone else. “In any case it looks like it worked.”

“I’m not a fan of the colors, they remind me of when I spent hours scrubbing chemicals out of my fur.” Muttered Sally, recalling the chemical splash that caused her fur and hair to change colors twice, before finally returning to her proper brown and auburn tones. She shuddered at the memory; she was lucky Rotor and Quack were able to make a fur-shampoo solution to cleanse the stuff from her fur, and luckier she wasn’t exposed long enough to cause any health issues.

Rubbing his chin, Sonic flashed a wide smile as he drew in his wife’s Super Form. “I dunno Sal, you rock the colors, and do’. It’s giving me ideas-.”

Tails held up one hand, and the other he put a finger to his mouth. Making a faux-gagging sound. “Sonic, I’m right here, don’t wanna hear that stuff!”

Snorting, Sonic rolled his eyes, “Hey, hey Li’Bro who said my mind was going to the gutter?”

Knuckles shot Sonic an incredulous look. “And I quote, “I’m always horny for Sal.”, end quote.”

Both Sonic and Sally managed to blush through the color of their super forms. Each coughing, and averting their gazes from their friends for a time.

“How about we can the small talk, and focus on saving the world?” Shadow stated, breaking up the moment as he turned and pointed towards the approaching Armada. “I’m sure Eggman saw that light show and is going to get even more antsy to try and finish us off.”

Clearing her throat, Sally stepped forward from the Master Emerald, letting Shadow’s comment further help to put that momentary embarrassment behind them. FAR behind them hopefully! “Shadow’s right, we got the power, now let’s use it.”

Pounding his fists together, Sonic began to jog and jump in place to pump himself up. “Juice and jam time folks, let’s show ol’ Eggy he should’ve stayed on that satellite in his home dimension.”

“If not just shriveled up and died.” Growled Knuckles as he flexed his fists before slamming them together.

“For everyone here, and those yet to come, we must win.” Silver uttered as he began to float, flexing his psychokinetic powers in anticipation.

Spinning his twin-tails, Tails began to hover as well. “Sally, give the word, we’re ready!”

“Everyone, it’s been an honor… LET’S GO!!”

#boundingforfreedom #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sally Acorn #Archie-Sonic Comics #Knuckles the Echidna #Shadow the Hedgehog #Miles 'Tails' Prower #Silver the Hedgehog #Master Emerald #Deep Power Stones #Super Forms #Fanfic

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the-wanted-man · 4 years ago

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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝟚𝕟𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘.

FFXIV Write 2020 | Foible | vibes

noun • a minor weakness or failing of character; slight flaw or defect

Aggressively catching up for writing challenges, don’t mind me.

He should have known.

It had been one of those days, where bad things happened in threes. That was the saying anyways, and if he really thought about it he could narrow the overall events of his day down to three things indeed.

It had started with the mark. That rotten black spot on the wrist of his trigger hand. The thing that made him feel equally rotten. If sin was a physical thing he was sure it’d look like this. Scrubbing his skin raw with sand to try to rid himself of it hadn’t helped either. It was still there, and it looked...unwell. It was fine.

The second had taken it’s time showing up. To be fair, he’d expected complications with a complicated heists. He didn’t do cons for reasons like this. He didn’t do ‘team-ups’ for the same reasons he was now running down the street to safety. People were fickle. But he’d opted to be that team player and found himself...about where he’d expected, really. If he decided not to kid himself.

He’d been willing to let it play out with no clear signs that it’d play out well. He was used to biding his time. Survival was usually lost to the first man that moved. And it had certainly played out. Like a piano without any strings that also, was on fire.

He’d been warned. Gods he’d been warned, and he’d given the benefit of the doubt up until the payment money had become the bet money. Up until the fox had bared his teeth and the hawk had gone for the kill. He’d debated on leaving several points up to that but each time his boots had been glued in place. Telling him for whatever reason that’s where he needed to be.

Now, there was a psychopath out for blood. His blood eventually, at the exact time he really didn’t need a looming threat of death. Were people already dead? He’d have to go back. He’d have to fucking go back. Even if he felt like the lot of them deserved to be left to their fates...He sighed. He’d have to do something. That was fine too.

The fact that it had taken Disaster Two all day to happen really had pulled his guard down though, and number Three came with a direct kick to both testicles. He’d expected betrayal from Mr. Silver. It was a soft metal. Malleable. He wouldn’t trust it for a shield, and so he didn’t trust ‘Ser’ Renard for a knight. But he’d trusted in the luck of a Black Cat and he reckoned he only had himself to blame for that.

There was an emptiness to his camp when he came back to it. It felt like all the magic had vacated. Like it was gone. He frowned, and maybe took that as a sign. She’d claimed to care. She’d...also claimed solidarity. Trust. He’d been willing to do that. Why hadn’t she ju--

Nope.

He just wouldn’t fall for it twice. Three times. Again, and again and again. He could stand to burn something down for once.Then again, he probably wouldn’t do that either. Not really. Partners. Team. Gang. They’d all used the words but when the smoke had started, no one had stuck around for the fire. They all took flight. He’d expected that too...but he was going to go back.

He had a problem, he was sure of it.

He began to tear the camp down.

The fire pit went first with a swipe of his boot to displace the rocks and sticks he’d prepped for the warmth of a later fire. But it was cold and useless for now, and he could build another. He filled his saddle bags once more. Rolled up his tent and blankets in a way that suggested efficiency from a thousand different moves.

He couldn’t stay here, even if he wanted to. It wasn’t safe from anybody. The Outlaw loaded himself onto his mustang last, driving his heels into the rounded sides of the beast and finding himself left with the distinct feeling of running into a field full of birds and ending up with a mouth full of feathers.

@argentrenard / @kestrelvylbrand

@but-first--tea / @eligos-venator

@luck-and-larceny / @dumb-hat

continued from here

#narratives #Risky Business Heist #Bad Things in 3s #Number 2 #Number 3 #so many mentions so sorry

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johns-prince · 5 years ago

Text

I have a sort of weird McLennon AU idea: Reincarnated!John

I got the idea from reading this interview with Paul McCartney, where he claims if he had been a girl he could have maybe gone out and fought for John to keep their very close relationship and prevent Yoko from essentially “stealing,” John away.

Then I got to thinking, well, what if, instead, John had been the girl? Which then lead to me connecting it too-- well, what if when John had been killed, on Dec. 8th, a little girl had also been born. Basically, John’s soul being reincarnated as a female.

A little girl born a few hours after John Lennon was assassinated, December 8th, 1980, in a hospital in Liverpool England, named Joan Winifred Stanley. Jo, or JoJo for short.

Now while this girl has John’s soul, heart, mind, and similarities feminized-- Joan is still an individual, with her own childhood and memories-- who’s growing up in the 80s, and is a lively, young, and lovely teenage girl in the beginning of the 90s. Her favorite rocker is Joan Jett, likes Blondie, Queen, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Bob Marley, Michael Jackson, and has a secret love for Elvis Presley... knows of the Beatles, but only see’s the band and their music as “alright, sort of antwacky.” though her mom fancies them.

Joan has fiery auburn colored hair which reaches some past her shoulders, wavy and thick, can often be a big birds nest of a mess. Milk chocolate brown eyes that appear to have specks of amber when the sunlight hits them; while softened with heavy lashes, are burning and alert, a glare could possibly kill someone. Poor eyesight, hates wearing her glasses because she thinks they make her look like a total lame.

[reference to what sort of glasswear her eyes required and the style of them]

5′5″, thiccc thighs, perky but rather small breasts, wide hips. Noticeable jawline and chin, though softened with baby fat, high cheekbones, sharp aquiline nose, bottom lip plumper than the top. Top two front teeth are crooked, slightly turned inward. It’s hard for me to describe her hairstyle during the very start of the 90s, so it’s something like this since she is an 80s child and for most of her young teens was in the crowd so;

See now, this is what I have for female John / Joan as far of what her face and hair may look like;

****[It’s still sort of rough, I know, I need to ink her in and then color her before I wanna show the full reference drawing. I honestly want to try and give her a bit more of a wider jawline, or a bit longer of a face-- but again, Joan is still her own person so she can’t look exactly like John, of course]

Sagittarius[John was a Libra], smoker of Luckies, musically inclined [perhaps sounds like a mix of Deborah Harry and Joan Jett? Though more nasally] loves to sing, learned to play acoustic guitar from her mother, and learned to play the harmonica from her grandda [the one good thing he had given to her as their relationship was generally soured since her mother’s parents saw her as nothing more than a bastard child] Could be considered a bit tomboyish but knows how to use her feminine wiles to manipulate, humiliate, and get what she wants. Tries not to be a horrible rebel as she hates to disappoint and stress out her mother, but can be a wild child and has a bit of an issue with authority and respecting rules and requests she deems unnecessarily stupid. Single child raised under a single mother as her father was never in the picture, and while her mothers’ parents were around they barely helped, so they lived in the manner of “we manage.” Coming from Liverpool, and in the poor-working class of society, her mannerisms of speaking are indeed Scouse.

Hot tempered, jealous/possessive of close friends and crush/lover, quick wit and sharp tongued, masks hurt with indifference and practically ghosting someone til she gets over it or they apologize adequately. Wants to love and own people, but does NOT want to be owned or tied down as it makes her feel caged. Freedom of self is incredibly important to her, and feeling like she’s losing it can cause her to act out and lash out.

Now, in the early 1990s, I believe Paul is around the age of 49/50. This might be just me projecting, but that makes Paul the legit Daddy in this whole thing, if ya catch my drift. Paul is, in my humble opinion, rather attractive and handsome in his late forties/early fifties. So yeah, silver fox Paul is gonna be a thing.

I have a thing for older men, alright? Let me project just a little bit here in my own AU.

I really haven’t thought much on how these two end up meeting, perhaps they meet during Paul’s World Tour during 1990? Again, Joan knows of the Beatles, and knows of Paul McCartney-- begrudgingly she does like a bit of his music-- but hadn’t the money, nor the greatest of utmost desire as many of her other female friends had, to get into to see him when he stopped in Liverpool. She thought it to be neat, but could live without seeing him.

But fate would lead to the two of them meeting, in probably an unexpected sort of way.

Anyways, right away Paul get’s this extremely strange vibe from this girl, this girl who watches him, squinting up at him, with such interest-- and despite being a well known [legendary] and talented musician, and veteran of the music industry, he suddenly feels like he’s been thrown back to the very first day he’d met the scruffy and polar opposite, John Lennon. He finds himself wanting to impress this young bird, because he feels as if despite all his credentials, they mean nothing at this very moment, and he’s stupidly nervous around some girl he had just happened to bump into [because she’s a young bird perhaps?? with burning brown eyes and a quirked, teasing mouth that reminded him of someone???], and it’s like being back to square one of having to prove himself, of his talent and passion, and in the end, the two appear to be sizing each other up, circling like predators do with prey. It’s a painful comparison when he realizes it, realizes how far this whole interaction threw him back, back into memories and feelings he had long since tried to bury, as not cry and mourn over each day.

It’s her who tries to end the first encounter, because she also gets this awfully weird aura from this old rock n’ roller, but she has no memories to connect it too. It leaves her feeling frustrated, because she really can’t find any rhyme or reason to why she feels this way, why she feels that this isn’t their first time interacting. Despite being an older man, she can’t help but think he looks rather good, and while she can’t put her finger on it again, she thinks that if Elvis had lived to be a bit older, he’d look something like this McCartney fellow. And while she tries to hide it, act indifferent and barely moved that she’s talking to the Paul McCartney, she does feel a bit starstruck, and so she simply wants to end this and keep it as a personal, favorite memory that she may recount to her friends and mother, who’ll probably think she’s just bullshittin’.

But when she attempts to leave, again this McCartney man, who insists that she call him Paul, catches her attention with a light grasp of her arm and stops her instantly. He’s quick to drop the hand the moment she whips her head around, shooting daggers at where he had touched her, then to staring right into his eyes. Paul isn’t sure why he’s doing this, why he feels like he needs to see this girl again, but as an excuse, he claims that it’s been awhile since he’s been back in Liverpool, and so, perhaps-- perhaps she could be the one to show him about. It’s a pitiful attempt of avoiding that he simply wants to meet up with this girl again-- and Joan rolls her eyes and breathes out an amused laugh at such a poor front.

“Aren't I a blind bit too young fe you?” Joan would say, and while the words are obviously a dig, a tease, Paul can’t help but feel as if she had slapped him, his face growing hot and red. Tries to explain, sputtering, almost insulted, that “No-- I mean, yes, I mean, I am not--” and Joan, at first with a relatively flat expression, raises an eyebrow and slowly a smirk begins to form as she watches Paul, the Paul McCartney, fluster and stutter about like the awkward teen boys she knows and have shot down. “Am jus’ skitt'n,” Joan would give in with smile and a laugh, that caused Paul goosebumps and his stomach to lurch, because while softer and higher pitched, reminded him of someone, someone once closer than close.

“A’rite Sir Paul, I'll indulge you.” and so, while she reasons it’s to just be nice this old rocker who probably hasn’t seen a young groupie in some time, she makes it appear she’s writing down her address or phone number on his hand-- and before she makes her get away, Paul would point out she hadn’t officially given her name to him-- “No manners these kids,” Paul might tease, and the auburn haired girl, with a smile that reached her eyes and showcased her nearly straight pearlies, told him her name was Joan, Joan Winifred Stanley, to be precise. Without giving him a chance to respond to it, she bid him farewell with a playful two fingered salute-- and for a breathless moment, Paul swore he had seen John there, just for a split second.

When he finally gets himself grounded and doesn’t feel so hot anymore, he discovers that she hadn’t written her number down, nor even an address-- just simply a street name; Menlove Avenue. If he’s so interested in continuing their little encounter, he could just go up and down the street, was her reasoning. She didn’t believe he’d go through such trouble to find her again-- anyway, he’s touring, and he has a wife and kids. Weird for a man his age to want to what, make friends with a barely 18 year old bird from old dingy Liverpool? A nobody, Joan would think, almost bitterly.

I’m still putting a lot of thought into this AU, so a lot of things can change and such, especially the idea behind how Joan/John and Paul meet and begin to interact more regularly, how their relationship starts and builds and grows and changes, and of course how it might end [I’m fiddling with the idea that Joan ends up dying too, but that’s a bit too angst-y for me to really focus on so]

Of course because I’m a fucking degenerate, I would like to have a moment where the two do end up having an intense affair-- though it’s just sensitive because, despite being not real at all, I want to give some respect to Linda and his kids around that time too, because I know Paul loves them dearly. So this AU is obviously full of fucking angst-y and complication and slow burn and miscommunication.

I can’t even have my cake and eat it too in my OWN FUCKING AU. Typical.

And yeah, there’s gonna be a noticeable age-gap in this AU, so if that’s not your thing, then that’s fine. There is gonna be a lot of coming of age shit attached to that, a bit of daddy kink, Joan having obvious daddy issues [John most likely had legit mommy issues let’s be real], first times, you name it.

In the AU, Paul is slowly going to come to the outlandish idea/theory that this girl is John, or at least John’s soul reincarnated. He can’t help it-- she reminds him of John too much, it’s eerie how alike the two are that they might as well be the same person. Paul knows he must be crazy for thinking it, and hates it because it makes him feel as if he’s gone completely obsessed over John, the idea of John still being here with him.

I will include an appearance from George and Ringo, with maybe Ringo trying to tell Paul that perhaps this is his way of handling the absence of John, and Paul, trying to justify himself, partially agrees. George ends up meeting this girl, and can’t help but agree that Paul may be right, just maybe, because even George can’t deny this girl reminds him of John too, and gives off this aura that is unmistakably John. Ringo thinks both of them are daft sods, but when Ringo meets Joan, he also finds himself seeing John in her-- though Ringo never voices it. But George is careful to not agree with Paul out loud, worried it might encourage Paul in an unhealthy and potentially dangerous way.

That is, will Paul confront Joan about this and finally tell her that he believes she is John reincarnated? Paul wants too, he wants to tell her, but he’s not stupid, he knows it would probably freak the girl out and cause their budding relationship to instantly crumble and die. But whenever Paul talks about John to her once they’ve gotten close enough that he’s comfortable to divulge such intimate stories and memories about his best mate, Joan’s face would become pensive, almost a far-away look in her eyes, and would begin to comment on how she swears she’s heard these stories before, or that something even similar had happened to her to which had happened to John [even though many of the stories are personal, and kept rather private, so how would she know???]

But Joan would simply shrug off those feelings of Deja Vu, laugh and shake her head, and just move on. She didn’t like getting those feelings, like she should have memory of something but just doesn’t.

Excerpts from a fanfic I’ll never write:

It’s a mess, really. Paul falling for this young lively bird with a mean wit and soft lips and squinting eyes that desperately needed glasses, which still managed to observe and could kill someone in the heat of an argument. A girl with auburn hair that tickled his cheeks whenever they’d hug, a girl with a memorable nose, a girl who smelt of ciggies and Liverpool and vanilla and home. “You’ve got kaleidoscope eyes,” Paul would try one afternoon, sounding like a young awkward teen again trying to impress a young but experienced girl. Joan would turn those fiery eyes to him, squinting, turning to an unimpressed glower that didn’t match the flustered smile. “Sod off, old man,” Joan would reply, snubbing him as she would do, though the smile still betrayed her.

Paul would fall, fall and fall, like Alice, except there would be no floor to catch him. He would fall for Joan, because he fell for John. It’s a mess, really-- because as things escalated, Paul’s love for Joan and John began to blend and blur, and it was bad because who did Paul really love? Joan, the wild young thing who could tear him down just as easily as build him up in the same sentence and look, or John-- who could do the same but ten times over, and had. Joan though, Joan was putting pieces back together that he had tried to bury long ago, pieces that John had left the day of December 8th.

“I’m not John,” Joan would say, blunt and straight, cigarette clenched between her teeth. Paul feeling as if the air had been sucked out of his lungs, sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. “I’m Joan,” she’d continue mercilessly, taking a long drag of the fag before ripping it from between her lips, smoke swirling out between the cruel words of reality. “I’m not some catalyst for your best mate, for whatever you and him had.” Joan’s young face twisted angrily, her eyes filled with dark hurt as she glared at the old rock and roller before her. For a second, Paul saw John again, John with his sneer and his burning glare and his words of knives that dared Paul to say something back, to engage him in war. It made Paul sick, all of it. He opened his mouth to argue, to protest what she was saying, what she was claiming has been happening all these months. But he can’t, because it’s true, it’s all true, and it burns his insides up. “You love John, and, and I’m not John,” she’d say, voice cracking as she can’t hide the hurt that comes from finally speaking these truths, bringing them to the light. Her face looks broken, tears threatening to break just as her voice had-- cigarette forgotten between two delicate fingers.

When Paul could find his voice, all that could be said was the girl’s name, soft and almost like a plea; “Joan.” “Don’t,” she’d bite back like a cornered animal, lip curling in disgust from just hearing her name come from those lips that had practically seared marks along her body. But Paul didn’t, he couldn’t stop, he’d still try-- tried reaching out towards her, a hand going to grasp at her free hand by her side, but all he got was grazing the tips of his fingers to the back of hers before she whipped her hand away, body following the violent motion as she stepped back, away. Those eyes, it’s like she wanted to kill him, especially as that had broken the dam and now her cheeks were wet and she was trying not to hyperventilate and finally she dropped the cigarette as her hands began to quiver. “I don’t want to hold your hand anymore! don’t you get it?” she might as well have slapped him, stabbed him, but Paul truly believed those things would have hurt less than what she had just said to him.

Anyways, thanks for taking the time to read all this bullshit lol I’m really invested in this AU, and so expect more of it. I will be posting the full drawing of Joan once it’s finished, or I can’t bring myself to work on it anymore and thus claim it’s finished to the best of my abilities lol

#mclennon #mclennon au #mclennon fic idea #I've put both too much and no thought into this #this is long so brace yourselves #reincarnated au

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sonicshank · 5 years ago

Note

Dude, I love how you drew Gijnka! Starline!

thank u! now in color! idk how old he is so i draw him generally younger looking n round 2 be inspecific but i think he’d make a neat silver fox jus cuz of the hair and demeanor

#my art #dr. starline #dr starline #gijinka #human au #ask #shaymixdiamondz #sonic idw #sonic the hedgehog

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jace-the-writer-guy · 4 years ago

Text

The Stray of Atlas (Part One)

///Set in “The Brave and the Bold” AU///

“One twist of fate, in the blink of an eye, everything fell apart and faded away for Jace. His family, his innocence, and nearly his will to live were lost and his heart was shattered almost irreparably. His future was uncertain until a group of certain people gave him aid in his time of dire need and he was then accepted into Beacon, and another two gave him his arm. Nearly five years later, Jace has a new family in everything from close friendship, to his brother, and to his mate. The foreign exchange program came around once more at that time and with that new family by his side, Jace returns to a place he hadn’t been in since before the fateful day his life was so terribly altered.”

Word count: 3,646

*Twenty two years ago*

Jace sat in his seat in the airship, his eyes far from looking at the open book in his hands. The fingers of his prosthetic hand lightly gripped at the pages of the fantasy novel, and his real ones did the same with the pages on the other side but definitely not as hard. His eyes looked out over the sea they flew over, almost like he was in some strange trance. He had been like this for the last ten minutes or so. Raine and Auron sat across the small table from him. Auron had his hat over his face and seemed like he was sleeping, and Raine was making sure she had all her cleaning supplies for her weapons so she wouldn’t have to buy anymore for at least a while longer.

As for Alyss, she was at Jace’s left side, looking up to him with slight concern on her face. Through the bond they shared in the form of the mate’s marks on their shoulders, she felt multiple different feelings of her mate almost like they were battling for control of what he should feel. Nervousness, anxiousness, fleeting calmness, fear… None of them were too nice, and the calmness being the feeling she felt the least out of them all and slowly disappearing made her frown. The cat Faunus’ ears twitched a bit and she reached for his prosthetic hand, pulling it away from the fantasy world he paid no mind to. The fingers of her right hand intertwined with the mechanical fingers of his, and the covered the outside of his hand with her left. She knew very well that Jace could feel it, and she thanked doctor Seabolte so much for his work to allow Jace that comfort after losing his arm.

“Hey,” Alyss spoke up lightly and squeezed his hand, feeling the warm mesh of the palm and insides of his fingers against her own, and she began to do her best to send feelings of calmness to him through their bond, “It’s okay, sweetie. We’re here with you.”

Jace blinked and he let out a long, pent up breath. He pulled his vision away from the window and marked the page of his book, then he closed it and put it on the table. “I'm… still not sure about how I’m gonna react.”

“Just don’t try to hide any feelin’s,” Auron said and sat up straighter in his seat, and he put his hat on the table, “Take it the best you can. I kinda felt like that when we went to Haven a couple years ago, but I know there ain’t nothin’ comparin’ to what happened to you.”

Raine looked up from her things and she offered Jace a smile. “You’re one of the strongest people I know, Jace. You can do this. You have Alyss,” She smiled a bit more and put a hand on her own shoulder, “and you have her mark. You can make it.”

Jace closed his eyes for a few moments, doing his best to accept the calmness Alyss sent his way and take everyone’s words to heart. He knew he could do this, but he was worried he wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“Hey, is everything alright?” They all heard Aulin ask, who stopped by and leaned over, resting her elbows on the table, “Hangin’ in there, Jace?”

Jace opened his eyes. “I'm… something.”

Alex stopped next to Aulin there and offered him a grin. “Hey, I know it’s gonna be tough, but at least you don’t have to worry about them.”

“Yeah… Thankfully not.”

“You know, your ass is hanging out for everyone to stare at, right?” Raine remarked to the ever-confident leader of team SLVR, “I shouldn’t be surprised anymore, honestly.”

Aulin snickered at that and looked at her best friend. “You’re just saying that because you’re not on the side my ass is facing.”

“I have a mate, you know.”

“Hasn’t stopped you from staring before, you know.” Aulin stuck her tongue out at the fox Faunus.

Raine rolled her eyes, her ears twitching a bit in amusement. “Bite me.”

“Let me!”

Despite Jace’s feelings at the moment, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Now there’s some improvement!” Aulin cheered and let out a bigger grin.

Alyss giggled a bit. “You both make great friends.”

“If only Vivi could share! Or Raine for that matter, damn~” Aulin licked her lips, “That cat’s ass and thighs look so-”

“Oh alright now, that’s enough from you,” Raine cut her off and looked up to the purple haired girl’s boyfriend, who was shaking his head in amusement, “Control your woman, Alex. She’s about to get something pierced other than her ears.”

“You know I can’t control her, Raine,” Alex replied and began to pull Aulin from the table, “C'mon now before Belle tracks us down.”

Alex took Aulin away and left the group in silence for several long moments. Jace took another deep breath and looked over toward the greatsword that was leaned against the seat between himself and the window. It wasn’t his own. It had a bit of a wider blade than Legacy’s, and the blade itself was five feet long, with the hilt being a foot long itself. The sword was single-edged, and the tip of the blade was a mix between a tanto-point and clip-point blade, with the edge running back down along the backside for a foot in length. The blade for the most part was dark grey while the edges and an inch past them were silver. Jace never let that sword leave his sight if he could help it and when it was left at the bottom of Beacon Tower four years ago with his blood surrounding it, it affected his mind greatly. And when he finally claimed it back at the Reclamation of Vale nearly a year later, it made him feel such great relief.

The weapon was named Standoff, and it was his fallen brother’s sword.

“It’s been so long since we’ve been there…” Jace murmured to himself and to the blade.

“Too bad it ain’t for a tournament,” Auron remarked and pulled out a bag of his deer jerky, and he stuck a piece in his mouth, “At least they still do the foreign exchange stuff though.”

Jace sighed at that. “Guess we’ll never get our chance.”

“Passengers, please return to your seats and prepare for landing.” The calm voice of the female pilot of the airship said through the intercom system, signaling their arrival to their destination.

Atlas

Jace looked out the window once more and saw that they were entering the city’s limits, which was on the ground. There were murmurings that that would soon change one day in the future and that Atlas would take to the sky, but for now the city was still grounded, and no one knew how long it would take for it to go airborne. Jace put his book in the bag he carried with him and he prepared himself mentally as much as he could, which was made immeasurable easier thanks to Alyss’ calming feelings coming through his mark.

After a few moments, everyone felt the airship touch down and a few moments later, everyone was called to depart. Alyss stepped out of the booth and grabbed her bags from above, along with the weapon case housing Soul Leaf, and she stepped aside for Jace. He put Standoff on the left side of his back, held by the magnetic plate attached to the harness he wore under his uniform jacket, and then he reached up to grab Legacy and he placed it on the right side of his back. Jace was very much used to it. Ozpin had allowed him to carry Standoff with him to every class after he was accepted into Beacon, and when he created Legacy and reclaimed his brother’s sword, he was mostly seen carrying both massive blades on his back.

Raine stepped out of their booth and grabbed Amaranthe, slinging it across her back with the string over her chest, and then she grabbed the weapon case on the floor that housed Shagohod. After her was Auron, and he slung his bags over his shoulders and grabbed the sheath that held Last Call, slinging it over his right shoulder. He didn’t have to get Smoke & Preacher from anywhere, as he had them in their holsters at his hips. After gathering all their things, team JKDW made their way off the airship and they beheld the sight of Atlas Academy, and the sight made Jace freeze up a bit.

He looked up toward the very top of the school and he felt a lump grow in his throat, and he just felt… locked up for several moments before he felt his hand being squeezed, and he looked down to see the comforting smile on Alyss’ face. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and he leaned down to press his head against hers, his tail wrapping around her thigh.

“Thank you, Alyss. I love you.” Jace said softly to her.

Alyss smiled and kissed him on the lips. “I love you too, Jace.”

“Daddy!”

“Hey, there’s my baby girl!” Auron exclaimed and gave a big smile before he walked over to where his girlfriend and his two-year-old daughter were standing.

Shyla giggled at that. “She’s missed you, Aure.”

“Awww have ya, Holly?” Auron asked with happiness in his voice before gently taking his daughter out of Shyla’s arms, and Holly nodded and gave a smile to match his before she hugged his neck, “I missed you too, honey,” He kissed her on the side of the head, “Gods, just one more year an’ I can spend a lot more time around you both.”

“I don’t think either of us can wait for that,” Shyla said and Auron gave Holly over to her, “Do you want to go to dinner after you all get settled?”

Auron nodded. “I’d love to. Talk to you later, Shy,” He looked to Holly and ruffled her hair, causing her to giggle, “Bye sweetheart. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

“Bye-bye daddy!”

Auron walked back to his team after that and they could all see the huge smile on his face. “Gods, just knowin’ me an’ Shy made somethin’ so beautiful is still enough to keep me goin’.”

“She’s still just as cute as ever,” Alyss remarked and smiled at him, “We’re all glad you’re still moving forward, Auron.”

“Thanks, Alyss. I hope she can meet Pyrrha at Heaven’s Clearin’ someday.”

“Speaking of babies, have you and Vivi made any progress in researching artificial pregnancy?” Jace asked his partner.

Raine hummed a bit as they all walked on toward the amphitheater. “A bit. We found out that they’re still experimenting and it might take a while longer before anything substantial happens.”

“And have you decided who is gonna carry your baby?” Alyss asked this time.

“Now that… we’re still not sure on.”

“Oh, did I just miss Holly!?” Aulin exclaimed nearby when she saw the back of Shyla’s head moving off in the other direction, “Auron, why didn’t you tell me!?”

“Because I wanted to hold my daughter an’ I know you woulda kept her to yourself,” Auron replied and grinned at her, “You’ll get more chances to see her, y'know.”

“Well yeah! But-”

“Aulin, please calm down,” Belle laughed next to her, “Let the man have a moment alone with his daughter.”

“You know telling her to calm down isn’t going to help anything.” Inuvali remarked.

“True, but still.”

“You guys need to stop ganging up on me!” Aulin complained and turned her head away from them, “Can you believe them, Alex?”

Alex laughed and shook his head. “No I can’t. How could you guys treat your sexy leader like that?”

Raine rolled her eyes and grinned, and she looked back to her team. “Come on, we should head on in and ignore her.”

Her teammates nodded and they all walked inside Atlas Academy, and Jace felt a small chill run through his body. He honestly never expected to walk through Atlas’ doors again. The last time he had, it was to go home for a break from school with Genesis, and then everything was taken away from him. It was always such a painful memory for the unnatural Faunus, and being back in Atlas was making it all come back to him. The ambush, the kidnapping, the experiments, feeling his father and his brother both die in his arms, losing his arm, all the people he killed in order to survive, all the innocents he and Genesis had put to rest from their suffering…

It took everything in Jace’s power to keep from falling to his knees, but even still he had to lean against the wall, covering his mouth in his real hand as his prosthetic clenched into a fist and trembled. Tears began to fill his eyes as the memories replayed in his mind. He lost everything so quickly, and then when he found someone to love and take comfort in the presence of, she was nearly taken away from him as well and that immense rage he felt still made him sick to his stomach.

“Jace!”

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts when he felt his back against the wall, and two slender, gentle hands holding his shoulders. “A-Alyss-”

Alyss quickly brought her mate in for a tight embrace. “Shhhh, it’s okay sweetie. Take a deep breath. We’re here for you.”

Jace trembled in her arms before he wrapped his own around her, not wanting to let go of her. He opened his mouth to try to say something, but he couldn’t find any words. He just didn’t know what to say. Soon, he felt a hand on each shoulder, one large and one smaller, and he could easily tell it was Auron and Raine. The two squeezed his shoulders and Alyss continued to keep him in her arms, and she kept doing her best to flood calming and soothing feelings into his Mark to counteract all the fear he was feeling. Several long seconds ticked by that felt like minutes to Jace as he stood with his back against the wall and in Alyss’ arms. After a while, he started to finally take deep breaths like Alyss told him to do, and he felt like he was finally starting to calm down enough to speak.

“I-I don’t think I’m ready…” He murmured, his voice barely audible.

“You are ready,” Raine told him and patted his shoulder, “After what happened with Auron a couple years ago at Haven, we all knew you would be taking this even harder than he did. It’s just moment of weakness. We all have them, but it doesn’t mean you’re not ready to be here again.”

Auron nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Y'all know it was… real bad for me. All the memories o’ what I seen almost took all my strength from me. I remembered havin’ to watch Preacher get his leg blown off an’ retire an’ I had to watch dad just slowly die in a hospital bed, an’ before all o’ that I had to see mom get bit an’ poisoned. An’ then I…” He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, “I seen you layin’ at the bottom o’ Beacon Tower with Standoff stabbed through your gut, an’ I seen Qrow come down with Pyrrha’s circlet… All o’ that was about too much to bear rememberin’ like that. I can’t imagine what you’re goin’ through right now, man.”

Jace closed his eyes as tears streamed down his cheeks, soaking into the hair between Alyss’ cat ears. “I miss them both so much…”

“We know you do, Jace,” Alyss spoke softly, reaching a hand up to gently rub the back of his head, “You can get through this. You know we’ll stay right by your side the whole time. We’re your family. And you have Alex, Aulin, Inu and Bell, and you have Ruby and the others too.”

“I heard my name!” The always-cheerful voice of the leader of team RWBY exclaimed nearby, and she and her team walked up to them, “Is everything okay?”

Jace took a shuddering breath. “Just… remembering.”

Yang gave him a small, sympathetic smile. “I guess it’s harder for now you since you’re here, huh?”

“Umm… yeah.”

“Will you be alright?” Weiss asked him, “I haven’t seen you look like this since we first visited you four years ago in the hospital.”

Jace shook his head. “I-I don’t know, Weiss… I just don’t know. I didn’t think this would just… hit me so hard.”

Blake stepped forward and put her hand on his arm. “Let Alyss help you, Jace. That’s one of the most beautiful things mates can have with each other with the marks. You know that. She’ll help you more than anything. You just need to do your best to calm down, and let her help keep you calm.”

Jace hugged Alyss a bit tighter and nodded. “I’m scared to lose her just like I lost my family, j-just like I almost lost her to the Fang…”

“But you didn’t, sweetie,” Alyss looked up from his chest and looked into his sky blue and emerald green eyes, “I’m still here, because you saved me. Their torture was nothing compared to what I felt from being taken away from you. I’ll always be here for you. Please, calm down and breath. Everything else can wait.”

“You can get through it, Jace,” Ruby said and flashed him a big smile, taking Blake’s hand in her own, “We’re gonna head into the amphitheater now. You guys take all the time you need.”

Ruby led her team off as Yang put her arm back around Weiss’ shoulders and left team JKDW there in the hallway. Jace felt himself slowly shuddering less and less in the comfort of his team and in the comfort of Alyss’ arms. He knew he needed to calm down but it was just so hard. The memories had never gotten to him like this before, and that made it so much harder to keep himself calm. One of his greatest fears was losing Alyss after she was kidnapped after the Reclamation of Vale. Not only was Alyss kidnapped, but so were the mate and son of one of their friends. Jace had felt such crushing grief when Alyss went missing that day, and when he found out that she had been kidnapped by the White Fang, that grief was replaced by absolute, burning rage.

Neither were feelings he never wanted to feel again.

Several moments ticked by as Jace closed his eyes and let his emotions settle with the immense help from the feelings Alyss sent through his mark. Those moments passed and Jace finally felt like he was okay and ready to continue on, so he said so to his team and they all continued on toward their destination. The whole way there, Jace clutched Alyss’ hand like a lifeline. He didn’t squeeze so hard it hurt her, but he definitely squeezed it with a lot of force. Alyss squeezed back though, and continuously rubbed her thumb across the top of his hand, humming softly to him to help soothe his mind.

She did that the entire time all the students were being addressed in the amphitheater as well as General Ironwood welcomed them all to Atlas. He went over the basics of Atlas’ policies and told them all the rules of the academy, and shared in the collective disappointment that another year was going by without the Vytal Tournament taking place. He had told everyone that he hoped that they still had a wonderful time in Atlas and that he along with the professors would do their best to answer any questions anyone may have. It was a standard speech he gave them all, but it was necessary to keep it like that to prevent from wasting so much time that could be spent elsewhere for the students, such as getting used to their surroundings.

“…Above all, we at Atlas and the Atlesian military would… like to once again apologize for the events of four years ago,” Ironwood began to say at the end of his speech, “Because of our lacking security, we unknowingly played a hand in the fall of Beacon, and the loss of so many lives both young and old. To this day, I still regret letting that happen and I place all of that blame on my own shoulders.”

Ironwood took a deep breath, and he let it out evenly. “It takes years to build trust, but only a moment to destroy it. I can only hope Atlas continues to build that trust once more, and it is never destroyed again. You’re all dismissed, please spend the rest of the day to relax and become familiar with the school.”

#oc #jace reznor #alyss reznor #raine daturas #james ironwood #b&b au #submission

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riddledeep · 5 years ago

Text

Mass Anti-Fairy Character List

A cheat sheet for matching Anti-Fairy juveniles with their adult names. Cross with the Camarilla Court and Chimera Families lists.

This info was written for Cloudlands AU, but it includes Vatajasa names that are also used in Reedfilter Rules AU.

Character descriptions may contain story spoilers - Your mileage may vary

Private Names / Adult Names

(Organized alphabetically)

Alexander / Anti-Ambrosine Anti-Whimsifinado - The father of H.P.’s counterpart. Speaks with a stutter, known for trafficking anti-pixies to those who wish to take advantage of their sugar-laced kisses for instant sugar highs. Constantly begs forgiveness from his son, who reluctantly always forgives him. Fire. Hog.

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Alex / Anti-Fergus Anti-Whimsifinado - H.P.’s counterpart; holotype of the anti-pixie race and the original Head Anti-Pixie. Lets the anti-pixies walk all over him and is an emotional eater. Anti-Sanderson overthrew him some time after the War of the Angels, locking him in the Lotus Palace dungeon. Breath. Hog.

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Ashley / Anti-Poof Anti-Lunifly - Anti-Cosmo’s cousin, the son of his mother’s late sister. Anti-Cosmo rescued him from inevitable death in “Growing Pains” (Frayed Knots). His Fairy counterpart, Poof Everwish, was met in the episode “Blondas Have More Fun.” In present day, Anti-Poof holds the title First General of the Anti-Fairies and is Anti-Cosmo’s follower drake. Sky. Fox.

Vatajasa Name: Jõu d’maa (Maa) - Reach of the mountain

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Augustus / Anti-Robin Anti-Cosma, Jr. (“Anti-Schnozmo”) (Bio) - Anti-Cosmo’s brother and Schnozmo’s counterpart. Anti-Robin Jr. was very close to their father, to the point they tried to keep Anti-Robin Sr. and Anti-Cosmo separated so they could soak up their father’s attention.

Like their mother, they have a magical parallel of schizophrenia; their mother can look at someone and see scattered bits of their future while Anti-Robin can see scattered bits of the past. Anti-Fairies refer to this condition as “being one with the wind spirits” and they/them pronouns are encouraged (though the terms son and brother are still used).

As of “Cocoa Fever” (Frayed Knots) Anti-Robin is medium to their namesake, a nature spirit of oxygen, August. Love. Rat.

Vatajasa Name: Mon d’lin (Lin-ju) - Thousand kisses of the birds

He’s addressed as Lin-ju when it’s necessary to clarify he isn’t Anti-Robin, who is also Lin. -ju is the suffix for “This child is named after the parent, who shares the crown name.” Anti-Schnozmo uses Lin-ju even after his father’s death.

---

Caden / Anti-Kanin Anti-Fairywinkle - One of Anti-Cosmo’s close childhood friends, although there’s a 50,000-year age gap between them. Speaks like a stereotypical pirate. In modern times, he holds the Seat of Love on Anti-Cosmo’s half of the camarilla court. He’s Anti-Wanda’s cousin. Love. Hound.

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Caligula / Anti-Gonzo Anti-Cosma - Anti-Cosmo’s paternal grandfather, met in “Cocoa Fever” (Frayed Knots). Although Anti-Gonzo wasn’t around much in Anti-Cosmo’s youth, grandfather and grandson are on very good terms. Anti-Gonzo is passionate about the idea that Fairy World laws shouldn’t govern Anti-Fairy lives and is responsible for the Anti-Gonzo v. Fairy World court case. Sky. Rat.

---

[REDACTED] / Anti-Coriander Anti-Windskimmer (Bio) - The anti-habetrot damsel Foop’s parents (and most of Anti-Fairy society) want him to marry and rule alongside. She’s soft-spoken and is training to be a surgeon. She wears her scrubs almost constantly and is notable for her silver hair. Leaves. Goat.

Vatajasa Name: Si d’hiira (Hiira) - Brush of the mouse

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Eleanor / Anti-Florensa Anti-Lunifly - Anti-Cosmo’s mother, AKA Anti-Mama Cosma. Third wife of Anti-Bryndin, and his personal bodyguard. Extremely skilled on the battlefield with no qualms about taking down an opponent; she is widely respected for her prowess even by Fairies. She smacks people around with her staff when they disobey her or otherwise forget their place.

Has burn scars covering the left side of her face, partially faded into her fur. Like her son Anti-Robin, she has a magical parallel of schizophrenia; she can look at someone and see scattered bits of their future while Anti-Robin can see scattered bits of the past.

Anti-Fairies view this condition as “being one with the spirits” and refer to her by they/them pronouns, though she refuses to use them since she’s in denial. Fire. Fox.

Vatajasa Name: Si-vi d'mala (Mala) - Touch of sagebrush

---

Eliza / Anti-Miranda Anti-Lunifly - Anti-Cosmo’s grandmother (Mother of Anti-Florensa, Anti-Harold, and Anti-Joanie). She lived in Fairy World with a Fairy partner for years (Lucas Rainwings), but moved to Anti-Fairy World during the War of the Sunset Divide while pregnant with Anti-Joanie. Her son is the eldest and A.C.’s mom is her youngest. She wears a spidery black dress with spiked shoulder pads and speaks Vatajasa, not Snobbish.

She made her first appearance in the Frayed Knots chapter “This Close to Heaven,” where she gave Anti-Cosmo advice on his attraction to Fairies. He refers to her as Nana Anti-Miranda.

Anti-Cosmo often reflects on her when thinking about how he himself would probably have been born in Fairy World if there hadn’t been a war. His stepdaughter (Eurydice / Anti-Miranda) is named after her.

---

Electro / Anti-Julian Anti-Southsun - Anti-Cosmo’s childhood friend, though Anti-Julian’s bitter jealousy towards A.C. drove them apart. In modern times, he holds the Seat of Fire on Anti-Cosmo’s half of the camarilla court and is medium to the nature spirit of fire, Saturn. Fire. Cobra.

---

Ennet / Anti-Sanderson Anti-Whimsifinado - Sanderson’s counterpart; current Head Anti-Pixie after overthrowing his father. Prefers to be addressed as “Hap” instead of “H.A.P.” with the letters individually pronounced.

As a kid, he was tormented by Anti-Fairy scientists who would cut through his skin (killing him and forcing regeneration) as they tried to figure out how he could be an asexual clone of his father. He’s hiding a lot of scars and trauma. Loves to dance, show emotion, and drink lots of soda. Extremely unstable, but cares for his brothers anyway. Water. Hog.

Occasionally appears in Origin and Knots. Has very notable appearances in the 130 Prompts: “Look at That!” & “You’ll Never Know”

Vatajasa Name: Sulõ d'vur (Vur) - Sudden bite of the wolf

---

Eurydice / Anti-Miranda Anti-Feldspar - Daughter of Anti-Saffron (Anti-Cosmo’s ex-wife) and Anti-Phillip (Son of Anti-Bryndin). Eurydice is Anti-Cosmo’s adopted daughter. She makes several appearances in Frayed Knots and very rare appearances in other works. Soil. Badger.

Vatajasa Name: Tin d'lomdi (Lomdi) - Grace of the war

---

Foop / Nebula / Anti-Poof Anti-Cosma-Anti-Fairywinkle (Bio) - His legal private name is Nebula and some of his extended family insist on referring to him as such. Foop has dissociative identity disorder and an alternate personality named Hiccup.

He was the first Anti-Fairy permitted to attend Fairy schools since the War of the Sunset Divide and he prizes his schooling greatly. Anti-Cosmo’s heir. Breath, but thought to be a Leaves year until post-Season 10). Fox and Rat.

Vatajasa Name: Fry-sün d’ichord (Ichord) - Wonder of the gods

---

Harold / Anti-Edmin Anti-Swiftstep - One of Anti-Cosmo’s crechemates. In modern times, he holds the Seat of Water on Anti-Wanda’s half of the camarilla court. He wears wizard-like clothing in “Fairly Odd Baby.” Water. Armadillo.

---

Hiccup / Nebula / Anti-Poof Anti-Fairywinkle-Anti-Cosma (Bio) - Foop’s alternate personality. Though he tries to be gentle, he does have a savage side. He also has a massive crush on Sammy Sweetsparkle. Foop and Hiccup both identify as and respond to the names Nebula and Anti-Poof, blurring their identity when they’re older. Breath. Fox and Rat.

---

Hugo / Anti-Henrie Anti-Northfeather - Became High Count when he married Anti-Ember Anti-Coppertalon. Stepfather of Anti-Dusty Jr. and father of Anti-Bryndin. Died prior Frayed Knots when Anti-Bryndin was still young. Sky. Swan.

---

Jamie / Anti-Randon Anti-Razzendazz - Hiccup’s high school boyfriend; bad boy on the outside, but has a soft spot for reading and nerdy boys. His main appearances are “Piggyback” and “Not Like You.” Love. Moose.

---

Julius / Anti-Cosmo Anti-Lunifly Anti-Cosma (Bio) - High Count of the Anti-Fairies; Sunnie’s medium. He has a magical parallel of bipolar disorder known as divus displacement disorder and is often referred to as “being one with the lightning spirits” (by Anti-Fairies) or being “a Fairy in an Anti-Fairy’s body” (by Fairies). He is married to Anti-Wanda and a close friend of H.P.’s. He is also hypersexual and struggles with that at times. Water. Fox. Rat.

Vatajasa Name: Pag-sün d'eskel (Eskel) - Born under milbark trees

---

Judith / Anti-Snowball Anti-Wandflick - Anti-Schnozmo’s daughter; Anti-Cosmo’s niece. Very minor appearances, but shows up on occasion and is present on the family tree. Fire. Otter.

Vatajasa Name: Kat d’reija (Reija) - Call of the snowflakes

---

Juno / Anti-Wendy Anti-Fairywinkle (Bio) - Anti-Wanda’s twin sister. She exclusively speaks Vatajasa and acts subservient to others in general. She nursed a massive crush on Anti-Cosmo until he married her sister. Sky. Hound.

Vatajasa Name: Tas-vi d’sot (Sot) - Whisper of the clouds

---

Kelsia / Anti-Marigold Anti-Goldenglow (Bio) - Goldie Goldenglow’s counterpart; Foop’s mistress. She’s an anti-will o’ the wisp and is looked down on in Anti-Fairy society. Leaves. Cricket.

Vatajasa Name: Sun-vi d’tata (Tata) - Wisdom of the stars

---

Kitigan / Anti-Bryndin Anti-Coppertalon - Son of the late High Countess Anti-Ember and High Count Anti-Henrie. Father of Anti-Phillip. Creche father of the Blue Castle / Anti-Coppertalon colony. Wears a crocheted black scarf with a large beryl button on it. Has an unusual speech pattern, tends to be direct and flirtatious, and can’t seem to navigate the Castle unless someone is with him. Breath. Hound.

Vatajasa Name: Wed’irzush (Irzush) - Furious storm

---

Klangfarbenmelodie / Anti-Cavatina (“Klangfar”) Anti-Sanderson - Eldest son of Anti-Sanderson, with his most notable appearances being the “Look At That!” and “Final Stand” Prompts. Not much is known at this time. Breath. Hog.

---

Lenora / Anti-Elina Anti-Rainchase - First wife of Anti-Bryndin. Wears a jade tiara and oversees most of the important social and political events. She’s an anti-goblin and wears glasses. Leaves. Otter.

---

Lia / Anti-Stacey Anti-Coppertalon - Anti-Bryndin’s daughter; younger sister of Winslow / Anti-Phillip. Leaves. Hound.

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Lloyd / Anti-Dusty Jr. / Anti-Buster Anti-Fairywinkle - First General of the Anti-Fairies; wears Tarrow’s sacred red cloak and has an obsession with swishing it. Anti-Bryndin’s elder brother who lost out on his inheritance due to being born without the iris virus; is treated like an illegitimate child his noble family have tried sweeping under the rug.

He’s the father of Anti-Wanda and Anti-Blonda, who were separated from him in their youth, which makes him the Anti-Big Daddy. Love. Forbidden to shapeshift.

---

Maria / Anti-Ember Anti-Coppertalon - High Countess before Anti-Bryndin. Married to High Count Anti-Henrie. Her firstborn, Anti-Dusty Jr., was rejected as her heir since he did not carry the iris virus.

Anti-Ember has a reputation for violence towards Fairies and led them during the War of the Sunset Divide; however, she was always kind to her family. Her funeral was held in “Where We Set Our Fires” (Frayed Knots). Fire. Hound.

---

Mona / Anti-Saffron Anti-Feldspar (Bio) - Anti-Cosmo’s childhood betrothed, whom he snagged through dubious circumstances in “Fun With Yarn” (Frayed Knots Chapter 3). She’s an anti-qalupalik who wears an amauti, hums on a near-constant basis, and has frizzy black hair. High Countess of the Anti-Fairies prior Anti-Wanda. Mother of Eurydice / Anti-Miranda and Nova / Anti-Phoenix. Soil. Badger.

Vatajasa Name: Ru-vika d’hi (Hi) - Kindness of the sun

---

Noon / Anti-Lance Anti-Sundive - Anti-Cosmo’s roommate from school; a very intelligent Anti-Fairy whose diplomacy earned him the respect of many Fairy peers. He held a seat of the Anti-Fairy Council for awhile but has had his sights on a Fairy Council position since the Barrier went down. He has the best hair of all my OCs and if you ever forget that, I will be sad. Sky. Salamander.

---

Nova / Anti-Phoenix Anti-Feldspar - Daughter of Anti-Saffron (Anti-Cosmo’s ex-wife) and........ hm. She’s Talon’s “twin” and makes a few appearances in Frayed Knots and very rare appearances in other works. Breath. Badger.

Vatajasa Name: Shon-vi d'tatla (Tatla) - Journey through the unknown

---

Rae / Anti-Zoe Anti-Snowbeam - Second wife of Anti-Bryndin. No one besides Anti-Bryndin seems to know anything about her. Rumor has it he keeps her imprisoned in a grain silo. Her Fairy counterpart is married to Anti-Bryndin’s counterpart, and she’s the mother of Anti-Phillip and Anti-Stacey. Water. Cobra.

---

Roselle / Anti-Coleen Anti-Fernfire - A dame whose family runs the spa and summer migration retreat, Maplefeather Point. Despite her noble blood, she’s rather lax about her status. She is married to Anti-Richter and (more importantly) is the mother of Anti-Whistle. Breath. Rhino.

Vatajasa Name: Odó d’srón (Srón) - Pride of the rhinos

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Soren / Anti-Whistle Anti-Fernfire - First anti-fairy baby born after Foop; a nervous little aristocrat horrified that his wealthy parents have no interest in presenting a dignified image. Partly resents Foop, partly has a crush on him, and sucks up to him either way. Breath. Rhino.

Vatajasa Name: Mon d’ichord (Ichord-kaü) - Kiss of the gods

Soren is only addressed as Ichord-kaü around Foop; it’s the suffix for “These two share a crown name, so we’re denoting -kaü as the younger.” When Foop isn’t around, he’s just addressed as Ichord. In essence, his name is “Little kiss of the gods.”

---

Smoky / Anti-Dusty Anti-Fairywinkle III - Foop’s younger brother; first in line to inherit the High Count position if Foop screws up. Soil. Hound.

Vatajasa Name: Kru-nie d’maa (Maa-kaü) - Song of the mountain

Smoky is frequently addressed as Maa-kaü (Not just maa) because First General Anti-Poof - who also lives in the Blue Castle - has the crown name Maa as well. In essence, his name is “Little song of the mountain.”

---

Telford “Talon” / Anti-Westley Anti-Lunifly - An anti-fairy raised to be Anti-Cosmo’s heir long before Foop was born. Anti-Cosmo and H.P. share custody of him; they both tend to coddle him and leave discipline to his other parent, so he’s grown up a spoiled brat. Annoyed with Foop’s existence, but usually keeps his mouth shut about it... Usually. He’s “twins” with Nova / Anti-Phoenix. Breath. Fox.

Vatajasa Name: Urn d’eskel (Eskel-ju) - Strength of the trees

Talon is only addressed as Eskel-ju when it’s necessary to clarify he isn’t Anti-Cosmo, who is also Eskel. -ju is the suffix for “This child is named after the parent, who shares the crown name.”

---

Tiberius / Anti-Robin Anti-Cosma, Sr. - Anti-Cosmo’s late father, who was a kitchen servant for most of his life. Close friends with H.P.’s counterpart, Anti-Fergus. He died when Anti-Cosmo was two years old, so they never formed a real relationship. However, he did bond with his older son, Anti-Robin Jr.

Anti-Robin’s most notable appearance is in “Let It Happen,” when he is seen courting Anti-Florensa in their younger years. Breath. Rat.

Vatajasa Name: Day d’lin (Lin) - Love of the birds

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Venus / Anti-Wanda Anti-Fairywinkle (Bio) - High Countess; Munn’s medium. She often travels Anti-Fairy World and is much beloved by her people. She’s much more famous than her sister is, as opposed to their counterparts. Sky. Hound.

Vatajasa Name: Tas-vi d’vixil (Vixil) - Whisper of the flower

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Winslow / Anti-Phillip Anti-Coppertalon - Son of the former High Count Anti-Bryndin; former heir to the High Count seat; older brother of Lia / Anti-Stacey, Anti-Cosmo’s rival; part of Anti-Wanda’s camarilla court; good friend of Sanderson’s. Soil. Hound.

Click HERE for my Fairly OddParents worldbuilding masterpost

#RD AntiFairy stuff #RD cheat sheets #Fairly Oddparents #Cloudlands AU #Reedfilter Rules

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