#darkling fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

Text

hysteria

kinktober, day twenty-eight

a/n: look, we already know that I'm a nerd when it comes to medical history, so this really shouldn't come as a surprise. only thing surprising about it is how fucking long it took for me to finally write this kinda fic, damn, because this fantasy is ancient.

summary: “miss, I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”

warnings: doctor!aleksander morozova x innocent!reader, smut, dubcon, historical au, medical kink, time accurate sexism, fingering, sex toys (vibrator, fuck machine), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, size kink, squirting, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation

word count: 1607

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

Eyes glued to the clipboard in his hand, doctor Morozova quietly read up from the list of symptoms he had just scribbled down, “…unmarried, insomnia, increased nervousness during social interactions… miss,” he then lifted his obsidian gaze and told you gravely, “I’m afraid to inform you that you have hysteria.”

“I-I do?”

“Yes, I’m terribly sorry,” he laid the papers down on the desk before him, “seems like your womb is not where it’s supposed to be and that can cause all sorts of problems as you can see by your symptoms.”

Fingers weaved so tightly in the fabric in your lap it nearly broke through, ruining your dress, your panic began to bubble out, “what should I do, doctor? Is there a cure?”

“There is,” he nodded, subtly raising a hand up to soothe your nerves, “the way to relieve this disorder is by causing something called a hysterical paroxysm,” he informed, abruptly redirecting his stare down upon the woodgrain of the tabletop, “now, usually, if a woman is married, the husband is to perform the treatment, but since you’re not,” his eyes flickered back up to find yours, “I’ll help rid your body of this ailment.”

“Really? Thank you,” you gasped, “what, uh, what does it entail?”

“Oh, it’s simple enough,” he waved a casual hand, “you just rid yourself of your undergarments and lay down on the exam table for me.”

“I-…” you blinked, eyes wide before you swallowed, “…alright…”

Getting up from the chair opposing his desk, you walked around the flimsy partition set up in the corner. Reaching under your dress, you timidly pulled your underwear down your legs, past your stockings and off. Folding the garment in a neat little bundle, you settled it on the small stool that stood back here before stepping back out from behind the cover.

Now settled at the bottom of the exam table on a seat, he gestured for you to get up onto the slab before you apprehensively did so.

“If you would please just put your feet up in these stirrups,” he adjusted the metal legs below you, “then we can get started.”

As you then shifted, settling your feet into place, your skirts tented and began to ride up, a gust of crisp air kissing your exposed centre and causing your cheeks to heat up.

Hearing his chair scoot closer, you then felt his touch softly ghost from your knees all the way up your thighs till his fingers were gently prying your petals apart. After taking a good look, he then briefly retracted his touch, unscrewing a nearby dark glass jar, swiping up some of the glossy contents before grazing through your folds once more, the cool temperature of the lubrication causing you to suck in a sharp breath.

“Sorry, if it’s a bit cold,” he murmured as he continued to smear it in.

Head faintly shaking, “it’s fine,” you tried just to focus on your breathing.

Pushing your dress a bit more out of the way, he told you, “just try and relax for me, it will go by a lot smoother if you relax,” his touch then suddenly changed, “now, tell me,” zeroing in and pressing down on your clit in a way that made the office around you go fuzzy, “how does that feel?”

Blinking down at him, you found that his vision was already firm on you, “I-… I don’t know… how is it supposed to feel?”

“It’s supposed to feel good,” he rubbed a bit harder, “so, does it feel good?”

“I-I guess so,” your vision fluttered back up towards the ceiling, the doctor’s dark eyes being too much to stand, “yeah.”

“Good, good,” his attentive touch then shifted, “now let me just have a feel inside. Deep breath for me,” your lungs expanded at his command, “there you go,” and his long finger pressed inside, gently curving it around against your walls as he examined, “yep, there it is… your womb, it’s in the completely wrong spot,” he swiftly worked another digit in, watching as you stretched around his fingers, “it’s good that you came in now before it got even worse,” pulling back out, he ended the contact with an unnecessary rub against your buzzing clit.

As he then scooted a bulky and mysterious machine over, you asked nervously, “w-what is that?”

“Just a little apparatus that’s gonna help cure you,” he twisted a vaguely phallic shape into place at the end of the device’s long arm. After noticing your startled expression, you felt his warm hand sprawl across your thigh, “don’t worry, love. It’s all gonna be just fine,” lining it up, “just try and lay still,” he turned a switch and the attachment slowly drove into you.

“Oh my god!” your palm slammed down against the exam table.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he caught your eye till your body slowly began to give in, calming under his gaze. Reaching his right hand up, he tickled your puff as the gadget slowly eased in and out of you, “you’re doing great so far, just relax for me,” you saw his free fingers sneak down to enclose around the apparatus’s knob once more, turning the speed further up.

Feeling like you might fall off the table entirely, you panted, “doctor, I think something might be wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, love,” he nearly chuckled, “this is how it’s supposed to feel,” smiling as you let go an uncontainable moan, knees nearly closing as you tumbled over the edge, “there it is, good, good…”

Expecting for the machine to be shut off, the doctor instead pushed your trembling knees aside and conjured a bulky ward-like device that buzzed in his tight grip, the other hand firm on your leg as he pressed the vibrator against your sensitive pearl, “ah! Doctor! What are you-”

“We’re not done yet,” he stated firmly, vision fixated on the mess he was turning you into.

The squelching of your pussy cut through the loud buzzing of the gizmos, “but it’s too much, I can’t-”

“You wanna get better, don’t you?”

Fists tight in your dress, crumbled at your waist, you let out a shaky, “yes.”

“Then quit your whining and let me treat you,” his stare snapped up as he warned you, “if you keep that up then I’ll have no other choice but to restrain you, is that what you want?”

“N-no,” the overwhelming sensation caused you to tremble like a leaf.

“Be a good girl and take it.”

When the second wave hit, it crashed into you so fiercely that you let out a lewd scream.

“There you go, that’s it!” the doctor bellowed as your pussy gushed, crying out around the intense toys, “oh, fuck…” unable to peel his eyes away as he finally turned off the machines, additional juices squirting out as they withdrew.

Limbs twitching, you hazily asked, “was that it? Are we done?”

Palming himself through his pants, his gaze stayed glued to your weeping core, “not quite yet, miss… that release of excess fluids was a very good sign, very good sign indeed, but we’re not quite done… there’s still more that needs to get out in order for your uterus to align itself again,” your eyes then flicked down to his fingers as they worked at the buttons on his slacks, swiftly freeing something much bigger than the apparatus he had just fucked you with.

“Doctor?” your eyes grew as he stepped closer, rubbing his tip against you in a way that made your eyes flutter.

Finally meeting your gaze, he uttered, “please, call me Aleksander,” before thrusting his hips forward, stretching you apart with his cock. Fingers digging into your thighs, he glanced back down and smirked, “I think your womb just needs a little reminder of where its home is,” before he slammed in, all the way, pushing the air out of your lungs as his balls nuzzled against you.

“Ah!”

“Just need to knock at its door a bit to call it home,” the tip of his generous length kissed your cervix with every rough thrust, borderline going too deep as you clambered around him, “that’s it, taking the treatment so well.”

Just as you had thought he had settled on a rhythm, he pulled the rug out from under you by suddenly withdrawing his girth entirely, spreading you apart so that he could watch how he made you gape, only to bury himself completely once again, repeating the cycle over and over, relishing in the way it drove you up the wall.

“Fucking hell… I can feel it, you’re getting close, clamping around me like a desperate little whore,” he groaned, watching as after a few more breath-taking rounds, your pussy began to weep once again, “oh, there it is,” squirting out every time he retraced himself, “atta girl,” the fullness he then granted you only persuaded more to appear.

When you were nothing more than a literal puddle in his grasp, Aleksander truly lost control, pounding into your trembling mess before he made it even more so, stuffing you full of his hot cum.

Low groans still flowed from his lips as he retracted from you for good, the sensation of his seed trickling out of you and onto the exam table nearly going unnoticed from how exhausted the treatment had made you.

“Was that it?” you asked weakly, “am I cured now?”

Tugging himself away as he caught his breath, he answered, “not completely,” glancing back up at you with a glint in his dark eyes, “I think you’re gonna have to come back a few more times …”

2K notes · View notes

thebigsl33p · 1 year ago

Text

Last Words of A Shooting Star (Part One)

A/N: this is the longest fic I've ever written, and this is only part one. A lot of love has gone into this, I'm super excited to share it! If there any mistakes or stuff please let me know. Uh, Aleksander's kinda OOC bcs it's early days and I'm not traumatising him yet but I am gonna make everyone so miserable in Part Two, I promise, and then he'll become a mardy bastard. Masterlist will be up with the second part, and my main will be updated.

Main Masterlist

people I thought might appreciate being tagged: (If not, sorry!!!):

@augustwithquills @myanmy @noortsshift @archangelslollipop @vaguekayla @budugu @inlovewithfictionalmen444 @weallhaveadestiny @dreamlandcreations @bookloverfilmoholic @lost-tothe-centuries

Warnings: Violence - murder, not too graphic, I don't think. I think that's all, if not please let me know. tbf, canon level I think but maybe I'm delusional

Word Count: 8260

Fic Playlist:

Aleksander has always had a fascination with the night sky. He can’t help it. It’s the darkness, he thinks, it runs in his blood and makes up his flesh, how couldn’t he be absolutely enamoured with it?

Maybe it’s because it was the only constant.

So much of his childhood, his years as a teenager and as a young adult were spent travelling, creating new identities, learning new landscapes, new faces, new names, new buildings, all of which would disappear and be replaced every two weeks. And sure, the daytime was nice with the sun and all. But it wasn’t as peaceful, didn’t bring him that same tranquillity as when he would lay down in a field, gaze up and try to name all the constellations, find new shapes and make up new stories.

Perhaps it all changed due to the incident at the Grisha camp. He had loved sunlight, the dark had scared him. But now, something was different - that air of peace was replaced by a penchant for the tenebrosity that the night brought with it, and a love for the small lights which decorated the dusk.

No matter where he went, whether he was North, East, South, or West, the night-sky was the same. Always that deep monumental blue speckled with little dots - little lights, little moons, little stories - which people like him called Stars. There was nothing quite like laying in a field, feeling the cool summer breeze or the biting winter gusts and knowing that you were so small, so insignificant compared to everything that burned up in the cosmos.

He was young then. Young and naive. And it was before her.

Looking back on it, Aleksander should’ve known better. Hadn’t the incident at the Grisha Camp taught him that? Wasn’t it what his mother drilled into him constantly? Trust no one. Never show your abilities. Touch no one. He was, politely put, a fool.

He was a young man when his life changed, for the better and for the worse. It’s hard to remember exactly, but he believes he was around nineteen, and he remembers it was a hot summer’s evening. The day had been spent working. He couldn’t have known then, but that ‘work’ was the beginnings of The Little Palace. But back then, it was him being - as his mother would put it - foolish, and helping other Grisha travel across Ravka. They were hard to find, and even harder to trust, but gradually, slowly yet surely, he was building a good network.

But during the nights, just for a little while he could let that go. He could lay in the tall grass, head tipped towards the dark vast sky and he could stare up at the stars and pretend he was normal, that shadows weren’t absentmindedly curling around his fingers.

For some reason he struggles to remember memories before that time. They’re blurry and vague, little snippets and days that he’s lost with his extended age. But that particular night, he remembers it vividly - his long hair brushing his cheek in the wind, the hard dirt under his head, the hum of nature and bugs, the bustle of a town not so far away carried on the wind, and the stars. They were the brightest he’d ever seen them, almost restless, buzzing in their eternal placeholders. Something, he could feel, was wrong.

The image of the star falling to Earth is eternally seared into his memory.

It appeared faster than he could comprehend - one second it wasn’t there, and then one second it was. He sits up on his elbows, completely transfixed and stunned by, what he at first presumes, is a shooting star. But gradually, he realises it’s getting bigger, faster… closer.

This burning bright ball of cream yellow light, tumbling through time and space and existence, tumbling towards him. Sitting there in the field, stunned by the sight, he’s sure he can hear it fizzling and crackling, knows it’s completely impossible from this distance, but he’s certain of it. Something tugs in his chest, somewhere between unbridled intrigue and panic, his mother’s words of warning echoing in his head. The intrigue wins, it’s an easy internal battle of common sense and childlike wonder which he thought he had long abandoned.

Aleksander scrambles to his feet, accidentally getting dirt on his palms and his trousers but he barely notices, head still tilted to the sky and his breath caught in his throat. He can see the trajectory of the star, where it will land in a section of the forest just a bit off from where he’s camping out. His eyes widen, a small smile, and before he knows it he’s stepping towards the tree-line, his black boots thudding on the ground as his footsteps get quicker and quicker.

To anyone else, the forest might’ve seemed daunting, especially so late at night. But the Shadow Summoner stepped into it without hesitation, the wizened terrain underfoot switching to a softer crunch of twigs and leaves. Once inside, he loses sight of the star, the canopy of the forest shielding it from him, its only indication being the unnatural light it shines through the leaves onto the forest floor, making his journey easier. He dodges twigs, branches, spider-webs, ducking and batting them out of the way quickly, balancing looking at the floor and where he’s going with gazing up at the foliage covered sky for any indication he’s travelling the right way.

He doesn’t know why he’s following after the star. He doesn’t know how he knows it’s a star. It feels more akin to when you’re in a dream, and you just know something is. Something about it compels him, drags him forward and pushes him on, deeper into the forest.

When the star makes impact, he feels it. In fact, Aleksander’s sure the entire world might’ve felt it, the shake in the trees and the ground, the birds disturbed from their midnight peace quickly fleeing their homes at the rattle of the branches and leaves, the dust-like dirt stirring. And it guides him to the star - the cracking noise it made as it hit the ground unmistakably came from a fraction to his left and so, he followed that way.

He knows he’s getting closer when the damage becomes more destructive. It’s no longer just disturbed birds and dirt, it’s entire trees tilted at an angle as if God had pushed a finger into the dirt and tilted them, their roots peeking through the soil. But in the middle of the makeshift clearing it is dark, the disturbed dirt floating and drifting through the air and concealing his surroundings. The ground is severely dented and compacted, forming a large dark crater which Aleksander can barely peek over.

He shuffles from the damaged treeline, his boots creaking on the soil as he tries to catch a glimpse over the edge of the vast crater, but it’s wide and deep, and the edges are loose. He’s careful, his Shadows waiting obediently for his hands to move - for some form of attack or defence. But it never comes.

Instead, as the clouds of dirt clear, the centre of the crater gradually became more visible. The middle was, overall, smooth but it slopes and nicks here and there. He had expected to see a rock, some large grey bland thing which ultimately would’ve made this all less exciting. But what he sees instead has his eyes widening. There, in the middle of the crater, is a young woman. She’s asleep - passed out maybe - her arms loosely stretched outwards, her hair splayed, messy and white. It’s not even like he can say it’s grey, or silver, or blonde. No, her hair is white, paper white, as white as the dress she’s wearing. It fits her well, skims over her body without constricting too much movement. He notices she has no shoes on. It dawns on him that this sleeping woman, this girl, is the Star and his brow furrows softly.

He barely hesitates before he’s sitting on the ledge of the crater and sliding down it, his boots landing on the compacted soil with a thud. In a few strides he’s standing over the sleeping girl, and then in another quick action he crouches down and picks her up, the back of her knees bent over his arm, her waist in his other as he supports her back and her head lolls. He huffs in soft amusement, and walks back the way he came, gently hoisting her up the wall of the crater with as much care as he can, using his shadows when he has a spare hand. It’s hard, and takes a bit of manoeuvring, but he gets there eventually before he pulls himself up. It’s a surprise to him that she hasn’t woken up yet.

He didn’t feel comfortable leaving her there like that, asleep, vulnerable and barefoot where anyone could’ve found her and not have known what they had stumbled on. He picks her up again, and begins his journey back through the forest, a little slower and with a little more care, mumbling to himself - to her - as they go. She doesn’t stir once, her head propped against his chest, her hair tickling his arm slightly.

The journey back to where he was camping out is peaceful. It’s quiet, save for his footsteps or the rustle of clothes. Occasionally, the moonlight catches her and she sparkles a bit. Literally sparkles, reflects it like a goddamn mirror. It really is a sight to see and it makes his lips quirk up a bit.

When they get back to the field, he’s careful. Aleksander lays her down on his mat, adds a few more logs to the fire and covers her with his coat. He thinks of checking her for injuries or damage, but decides that can wait until she wakes up. He doesn’t want to be a creep, and if she’s in pain she’s probably better off telling him when she wakes up, than him finding out for himself.

And so, he settles himself on the other side of the campfire. He leans his head on his pack - considering the girl next to him has his mat - and tries to get what little sleep will come.

When Y/N wakes, it’s in unfamiliar surroundings. The first thing she’s aware of is the cold. It’s not freezing, but it’s uncomfortable, and she tucks her legs up under her until she’s in a ball, tugging the blanket under her chin. Blanket? No. She shouldn’t have a blanket. It shouldn’t be cold…

She sits up fast and quick, all lethargy gone from her body as her eyes widen and she takes in her surroundings. She’s in a field. On a mat. And someone’s dark, large coat is over her body. It’s early morning, the sky a pale grey, a low mist settling on her surroundings and a light dew coating the grass. She can feel heat on one side of her, but her head is turned towards the foggy treeline. She tries to recall the last things she remembers… being in the sky, existing, and then a sudden gap which she can’t figure out, and then she wakes up here.

She’s caught in thought, trying to make sense of her surroundings when a voice says, “You’re awake.” and her head whips around. On the other side of a fresh campfire is a young man, dark eyes, long dark hair, pale skin and dark clothes. He’s roasting a rabbit over the fire - no doubt freshly caught from the knife that sits beside him. His pack sits beside him, his eyes never leave her, even as she expresses soft panic.

She tries to get up, but her body aches, and he holds out a hand, “Easy. I’m not… I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?” he asks softly, waving to her to relax.

She answers hesitantly, her eyes scanning the boy, “Y/N.” she says eventually, “You?”

“Leonid.” Aleksander lies, looking between the campfire and her, “Are you hurt anywhere? You took… quite the fall.”

“Funny.” Y/N says drily, “How long have you been working on that one?”

From the grin that splits his face, he’s clearly secretly pleased with his dad-joke, “Just this morning.” Leonid - Aleksander - turns a bit more serious, “Are you, though? Hurt?”

She shakes her head, kicking the coat off her and putting it to one side so she can sit up properly, “No, I’m fine.” she mumbles, “Just achy.”

“Mhm, I suppose that’s to be expected.” he holds the cooked rabbit out to her on a makeshift fork, “Here, eat. You’ll need it.”

Y/N takes it hesitantly, sniffing it before picking a bit of meat off it with her fingers and eating it, “Thanks… who are you?”

“Leonid.” He repeats.

“No, I meant like - where am I? Who are you - like - how did you find me?”

“Well,” he leans back on his elbows, glances around, “You’re in a field, near Vernost, in Ravka.” he says, “and I am…” his brow furrows softly as he figures out how to phrase this. She’s a Star - would she even understand the difference between Grisha and Otkazats’ya?

He says it anyway.

“As I said, my name’s Leonid, I’m…” he’s hesitant - would a star really have prejudices? He hopes not. He takes a foolish chance. “Grisha. You know what that is?”

She nods, offers him what remains of the Rabbit. He waves it off, indicating that she finishes it. “Why are you helping me?” She asks, tilting her head.

“My, you’re just full of questions.” he sighs, “I saw you fall. I wasn’t just gonna… leave you.”

“Right.” Y/N’s eyes narrow slightly, “is this your coat? Here you can have it back.” she nudges the coat towards him.

He gives her an amused look, his eyes moving down, then back up, “I think you’ll need it more than me, zvezda.” he muses, smug almost.

She glances down at the dress she’s wearing. It’s simple, plain, and he’s right. It’s too thin for the current weather - she’ll be better off as it warms up during the day - but for now, she accepts the coat with a small, amused huff.

"C'mon, eat that fast," he says, indicating to the rabbit, "We've gotta get going before the sun is too high." He's already tucking away the few things he got out, "I'm gonna walk you to the nearest town, Vernost, leave you somewhere safe, okay?" he glances at her, "Get you some shoes and some more suitable clothes. Until then…”

He reaches into his pack, produces a spare undershirt and hands it to her with an almost apologetic look, "Better than nothing." she nods in thanks.

She takes the shirt with a grateful nod. Once she's finished the rabbit, she stands and hands him the mat, watching as he rolls it up and tucks that away too, and then they're set to travel. She pulls on the undershirt over her dress and while it hangs loosely it provides a bit more comfort, and then she shuffles on his coat. It’s too big for her, completely contrasts her bright eyes and white hair, the sleeves hang loosely and she has to roll them up.

He wants to make her as comfortable as possible, and so shows her the map he’s using, highlights the path they’ll be travelling with his finger, showing their way through the woods, worries a bit over her lack of shoes and then they’re walking.

The path to the town is simple, through the woods, past her crater, and then a little further for about fifteen or twenty minutes. He’s careful to go first, his harsh boots making some attempt at flattening the ground for her barefoot condition. Aleksander considers picking her up - no, too weird for someone he’s just met - and she doesn’t seem to be in any pain.

They keep walking. The sun rises higher, the morning beginning just as they make their way into Vernost. It’s a small town, but a good town. The hustle and bustle of people, farmers, artisans, builders and blacksmiths is accompanied by the gentle murmur of the small local market, travellers and locals who move between stalls and shops, horses’ hooves on the cobblestone, the crowd parting for an occasional rickety wooden carriage.

He glances over to her. The look of awe on her face is somewhere between sad and endearing. She’s struck completely by this tiny town, the smallest, simplest form of inhabitance, and yet it brings nothing but awe and wonder to her gaze. There’s a sense of yearning in the way her eyes run over everything as they walk, as if she’s desperate to take it all in, to retain it, keep it held to her chest - to make life hers. To have all of it - to know the joys and the sorrows like the back of her hand. Aleksander could practically see the light come to life behind her eyes, as if she’d finally woken up to something wonderful.

He smiles, somewhere between amusement and appreciation, and places a hand on her shoulder to steer her through the crowds which are slowly getting busier, “Easy tiger.” he says and she laughs sheepishly.

“It’s just all so…” she doesn’t know how to describe it, the words to explain the way her heart is racing all jam up in her throat. She has a heart. The rushing of blood, just the wind against her skin, it’s all she ever wanted to feel, and now that she can feel it, now she’s no longer confined to the night sky, she’s in complete and utter astonishment, raptured by everything around her.

“Kinda overwhelming?” He suggests, raising an eyebrow as they walk. He’s keeping an eye out for a Cobbler - or anywhere that sells shoes, really. Again, he casts his eyes down to her bare feet and feels guilt and concern rise in him, that the streets of Vernost, nor the woods are exactly clean, and they must be hurting by now.

But one glance at her face and he can tell she barely feels it. It’s just dirt - it can be washed off. However, it doesn’t ease the guilt.

The first time she ‘shines’, is over a piece of cake.

They’d been travelling together for a few weeks now. Aleksander was a fool to think he could leave her alone in Vernost, his worries, concerns and guilt over the Star getting the better of him. They stayed for a few days there, giving her a general introduction to the workings of human life in a contained and somewhat non-threatening environment.

In their few brief days in Vernost she tries a range of food, stews, desserts. He explains money, the current politics of the country over a bowl of stew from the Inn they were staying at, explains the prejudices and segregation of Grisha, the violence. They get her clothing, a shirt, an overvest, trousers and boots, and a small bag to carry her non-existent belongings. She folds her dress into it for the first few days - that silky silver material which catches in the moonlight - and it fits surprisingly well, tucks into the corner of the satchel. He explains to her how to read the map, all the different little symbols. In some ways, she’s like a child. Her lack of general knowledge about the world is understandable, but she catches on fast, much faster than anyone else could’ve.

Well, they’d been travelling together for a few weeks, developing a relationship that might even be called friendship. Aleksander had to make a few adjustments to the way he travelled - he was still telling Y/N his name was Leonid - occasionally they travelled at night. Honestly, it made more sense, he felt more comfortable in the darkness, and she had more energy. But it also made them bigger targets for suspicion, people travelling at night were often suspected of Grisha related activity… which is exactly what he was doing. She was just along for the ride, and the last thing he wanted was for her to get dragged into his problems and potentially harmed. Conflicting morals, he knows.

They’d passed through a few villages on their travels, small places which minded their own business and were good for occasional stock ups on food, water, supplies.

He doesn’t know why he bought the slice of cake. Aleksander had decided it was good for her to develop her own independence, and so she had gone to make her own way around this small town they’d stopped in. Meanwhile, he perused the sparse shops for anything of use.

The slices of cake were sitting in the shop window, all of them uniform in their cream decoration and the small slices of strawberries which sat inside and on top of the layers of sponge, and all of them placed delicately on little porcelain dishes. He enters the shop without thinking, purchases a slice to take away, lets the person wrap it away in a small tissue and carefully takes it, slipping it into a safe part of his own bag. He’s careful for the rest of the day in the way he moves - making sure not to squash or compromise the baked good. He can’t quite wrap his mind - nor his heart - around why he’s done it. Why did he suddenly feel the urge to buy her a slice of cake of all things. But he’s glad he did. Aleksander hopes she’ll like it.

He presents it to her over their campfire for the evening. It’s a small thing made of dried grass and twigs or any larger pieces of wood they could find but it provides light and heat and that’s enough. They’re sitting either side of it, across from one another, having just eaten bread and cheese for dinner. Twilight is setting in the sky, and he can see it on her - the way her eyes are slightly brighter, her laugh slightly more mellow as they chat over their food.

He reaches into his bag by his side, clears his throat and says, “I got you something.”

Y/N’s brow furrows softly, and she tilts her head as he continues, “I just… it’s small, but I thought you might like it.” and he produces a square shaped thing, slanted, and wrapped in tissue, still preserved, offering it to her in the palm of his hand over the campfire.

She takes it gently, “What is it?” as she delicately peels back the tissue. The cake is… well, cake. The sponge is a soft pale yellow, the cream delicately placed and the strawberries are slightly softer than they should be, but won’t make too much of a difference. She raises it to her nose and hesitantly sniffs it, which gets a chuckle out of him.

“It’s cake.” he answers, “Go on, try it.” Aleksander encourages her with a wave of his hand.

She raises her eyebrows and lifts the cake to her mouth, taking a small bite. Her eyes instantly light up, and he laughs at her reaction as she mumbles, “Oh, Saints, this is really good..” Around a mouthful of cake.

She eats a bit more, and then holds it out to him, “Want some?”

And that’s when he sees it. She’s shining. Literally glowing. Radiating light, her very skin and hair giving it off like it’s nothing. His breath hitches as she lights up the field. It’s not particularly bright, but it’s strong and it makes itself known. She’s like a mellow night light, and it only causes his smile to widen, “You’re um…” he gestures at her - at her glowing.

Her brow scrunches up - it’s cute - and she laughs sheepishly, “Shining?”

“Yeah. That.” he grins, leaning back on his palms.

She huffs, a huff of mock exasperation, “I’m sorry - I can’t… it’s not something I can really control. It just happens, y’know. Like…” She averts her eyes to the flames of the small campfire, “If I’m happy. I shine - it’s what stars do best.” They both laugh a little.

“Well, it suits you.” Aleksander says gently - his voice much softer than he meant it to be, or than he’s comfortable with. When did he get so… compassionate? He internally grimaces, but for some reason he feels an odd sense of endearment to this girl.

“Yeah,” She responds with a wry grin, “I should hope so. I am a star, after all.”

And again, they both laugh.

Aleksander didn’t intend to keep her with him for so long. He didn’t intend to introduce her to his friends - to his connections, to the people across the country who help him with his work. He didn’t intend to get her involved. But they’ve been travelling together for three months and in that time, he’s discovered a wide array of things.

The first is that she’s good with a sword. Perhaps good is an understatement. She has a natural balance about her, maybe it’s her celestial nature, but watching her with a sword is like watching art. The handle sits in her palm with an easy weight, she swings it with an air of freedom and lax, yet with complete control. The blade is, undoubtedly, hers.

They had discovered her penchant for swords in a rather unfortunate situation. They had been a touch careless. He was feeling more secure with someone else travelling at his side. And so, had paid less attention to his surroundings. If there was one con of her having her around, it was that she was a touch of a distraction.

They had passed through a village. They stayed to briefly eat lunch sitting in the town square, and then had gone to pass on just as quick as they came. It shouldn’t have drawn attention. But it did.

They hadn’t noticed the group of men watching them, looks of disdain on their features as they eyed up the two of them, mumbling to one another. They’d managed to avoid trouble so far, steering clear of Druskelle and negative situations, but on that day, something had given them away as both travellers and Grisha. It was hard to say what - perhaps it was the way they murmured and laughed quietly with one another, maybe the tell-tale way his hands moved. Perhaps he’d been careless and a slip of shadow had been noticed. They couldn’t say for certain. But these men, standing and sneering, they knew.

Either way, Y/N and Aleksander were followed back to where they were camping out by the night. It was just a clearing off the main path they were following, and they had been very comfortably sitting, eating, laughing as they did each and every evening, lit by firelight and accompanied by the low hum of bugs and the weather slowly turning cold. She noticed the figures first.

They seemed to come out of nowhere, far enough away that she could tap his shoulder with a quiet, “Leonid. There’s people.”

His brow furrowed softly, and he turned over his shoulder in the direction she was looking at. Three men, two shorter, one that was a bit taller and lagged behind - all three variously armed. One man - short, dirty blonde hair and a face marred by smudges of dirt - carried a small dagger. The second, slightly taller with a slightly more muscular frame, had dark hair that was greying at the roots, a knife, and a snarl. The third and final man, the tallest of the lot was passive, but his eyes glinted in the firelight with nothing malevolence, and in his goliath hand was a sword.

The man with the dark hair speaks first, accented and gruff, his eyes pinned to Aleksander, “Grisha, aren’t you?” he asks the question in a way that betrays he already knows the answer.

Aleksander doesn’t answer. He’s careful. Delicate. She’s sitting behind him, watching the interaction, hesitant to move. He needs to think this through in a way that puts Y/N out of harm's way. His eyes never leave the men.

There’s a movement out of the corner of his eye - the second man, wielding his dagger up quickly, his movements fueled by disgust. Aleksander’s quicker, raising his hand with two fingers pointed up, creating a wall of shadow which the dagger clashes against, and in that moment he’s scrambled up to his feet, grabbing Y/N by the arm and pulling her up with him. He runs.

He’s not used to running. He’s used to fighting. But at the moment he’s responsible for two people’s safety, and so he pushes forward, yelling at her to go. He expected the men to follow. He didn’t expect the largest to go after her, the three men separating into groups of one and two. The two come after him, dagger and knife, and he has little time to worry about Y/N before they’re gaining,

Aleksander’s efficient, his hands move fast to bring forth his shadows, forming sharp points which pierce the chests of the two men with harsh crunches, their weapons dropping into the grass as their bodies go limp, blood drooling from their mouths as the light leaves their eyes.

He breathes a sigh of relief, but then he’s alert again at the sound of someone crying out from behind him. His head whips around, and he sees Y/N, and the largest man. He’s backing her up against the tree line, she’s almost frozen in fear when she trips over her own feet and onto her back. Her eyes widen, the man leers over her, sword readied and in a brief moment of fear and desperation she rears her legs and kicks his knees.

The man grunts, hisses in pain as the sword drops from his hand so he can clutch at where she kicked him. Amateur. And in the next instant she’s lunged across the ground for the sword, where he dropped it, scrambling for it. She’s still on the floor, and she turns onto her back as the man’s attention is brought to her again, large hands reaching to cause her harm.

The sound of the sword cutting into the man is almost deafening. She does it without thinking, pure survival instinct as she cuts the man's stomach, her hands firm on the handle as blood coats them both, her breathing heavy as she pulls the sword out and the man falls back, dying slowly.

She’s frozen, and Aleksander’s eyes are almost as wide as hers. He takes a few loose footsteps towards her, a few more which are a bit firmer before he’s by her side, kneeling beside her and cleaning the blood off her cheeks with his sleeve, gently taking the sword from her iron grip and laying it beside her.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, and it feels stupid. She’s covered in blood, shaking, tears in her eyes and the only thing he can think to ask is ‘are you okay’? Saints, he’s an idiot.

He moves on, still wiping the blood off her as well as he can as she nods her head shakily, “It’s alright. You’re alright.” He says quietly. He remembers the first time he killed someone - the guilt, the fear, the horror at yourself. He frowns softly, as the thin shine of tears comes to her eyes and she looks away.

Without thinking about it much more, he picks her up, scooping her into his arms, hooking the back of her knees over his arm as she turns and curls into his chest, her crying quiet and barely audible as he carries her back to their camp.

After that, things are different. They’re closer, in a way.

Y/N keeps the sword, keeps it tucked by her side, takes care of the metal and the handle. She’s good with it, he knows for a fact, and he feels more comfortable knowing she has a means of handling herself. The emotional toll of the murder hit her hard. Perhaps, she thinks, she wasn’t meant to feel emotions like this. Her very existence is in conflict. She’s not meant to be able to feel this way, she’s meant to be a star for Saint’s sake!

But there is something so very human in the guilt she carried in the days after the attack. She was quiet, much quieter than she usually was. At first, she was hesitant to carry the sword. So, instead he carried it for her, catching her eyes flickering towards it occasionally, the way it swung by his hip and the metal caught in the sun.

One evening as they walked, she offered to take it instead.

“Do you want me to take that?” she had said, a quiet, unspoken I think I’m okay now.

“Are you sure?” he asked, “It’s not heavy, I’m okay to carry it for as long as-”

“No, I’m sure.” She nodded, her look determined and firm, “My safety shouldn’t be your responsibility alone.” She explained, “We should be responsible for one another if we’re going to be travelling together. And I can’t do that if I’m unarmed.”

He nodded in understanding, and softly unhooked the sword and the holder, and offered the handle to her. She took it, measuring the weight in her palm, before she put the holder on herself and slipped the sword into it. She took a breath.

He spoke first, “I should tell you something, Y/N. Y’know, if we’re going to be stuck together for a while, I don’t want to keep you in the dark.” he said.

She didn’t respond, simply nodded and waited for him to say what he had to say.

“My name isn’t Leonid, I lied. I’ve spent most of my life having to conceal who I am, what I am, and so I hope you can understand and forgive my deception.” He paused, breathing relief into the night air, “My name is Aleksander.”

“Aleksander?” She echoes, and a small, intimate smile finds her features, “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Aleksander.” She says, in that half-teasing tone he’s become so accustomed with.

He rolls his eyes but can’t fight back the grin, “You’re an ass, do you know that?”

“Ah, you may have mentioned it once or twice.” She shrugs, unable to wipe off that teasing smile from her features.

He huffs in mock exasperation before his tone turns softer. He’s found he has a habit of doing that. Something about her makes him better, gentler. He almost feels human around her, “I mean it Y/N,” he says quietly, “I’m sorry I lied to you, especially for so long.”

“It’s fine,” she says with a small smile, nudging his shoulder, “You’re forgiven, if that eases your conscience.” She’s still slightly teasing, but her tone is mostly compassionate. Endearing, even.

“Thank you,” he says, grinning as he nudges her back, “Saints, you’re insufferable.”

She gasps, dramatically feigning offence. For a star, she’s caught onto the culture of sarcasm and drama rather well, and he laughs at her display, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as they walk. It feels right.

“How are you finding it?” He asks, as they walk, “y’know, being human? Is it weird?” He checks in on her this way every now and then to make sure she’s not overwhelmed. But this is the first time she answers differently.

“...As a star…” She sighed softly, weighing up her words, “You’re constantly watching. You’re up there, watching all these little people have adventures and lives and romance, and it’s… it’s yearning. You want those things too, y’know? You want to be flesh and bone as well, to feel emotion. To cry, and be happy, and be angry, and to know what love feels like. You want adventure, the big things in life like… meeting someone. Or having a family. Or getting an education. Making a difference.” She laughed softly, “But you also want the little things - like cake, for example. And music, and friendship, and to share meals with people you care about.”

She glanced at him, and then back to the path, “I’m glad you found me. I don’t think anyone else would’ve done such a good job at making me feel welcome in a world that isn’t strictly mine.”

Her words were soft, quiet, and sincere. And it made Aleksander’s heart stutter in his chest, but he kept his composure and managed, “I’m glad I found you too.”

Aleksander takes her to a place he calls ‘the sanctuary’.

He explains it to her on the way there - a building, a place, where Grisha can support, aid and train other Grisha.

It’s been months since they first met, and by now the warm comfort of the summer is fading, replaced by cold golden sunlight and browned leaves, wetter grounds and harsher gales. And so, he takes her there.

The sanctuary is a medium-sized, pale stone structure, hidden away in the middle of nowhere, concealed by thick woods and trees. It’s squat, but wide, the front of it gives away nothing but a set of rounded wooden doors. He takes her hand - she’s not even sure he realises that he’s done it - and guides her with him to the front. Her sword swings at her side as she follows, standing beside him as he raps his knuckles on the wooden door a few times.

The door opens a crack, she can’t see who’s on the other side, but Aleksander’s gaze meets theirs and they open it. On the other side is a man, short brown hair and green eyes. He’s rather skinny, but his strength is held in his eyes. He lets Aleksander in without issue, nodding his head softly. Their hands are still linked together and so, she goes to follow.

But the brown haired man stops her, a hand coming to her chest to halt her, his eyes narrowed and dark, glancing back at Aleksander. He answers, “She’s with me, Andrei.”

“Grisha?” The man interrogates.

Aleksander huffs, “No, Andrei. But she’s been helping me for the past five months, let her through.”

Andrei’s eyes narrow in suspicion, and he glances at Aleksander finally before letting his hand drop and allowing her entrance. She nods her head softly, and follows after Aleksander. Y/N feels him squeeze her hand, a quiet apology. She squeezes back as he guides her deeper into the sanctuary. They pass rooms, beds, people who nod at him as they pass and whose eyebrows furrow when they see her trailing after him, and her stark white hair.

Inside, the sanctuary was busy. It was filled with the hum of people working, all in various clothing - some injured, some healing, some cooking, some reading, teaching, training - it was almost a wonderful study in the kindness of human nature and community that had her eyes widening.

“Are you alright, Zvezda?” he asked softly, turning back to her over his shoulder, “Are you overwhelmed? We can…”

“No, it’s… it’s wonderful.” She said quietly, her wide eyes meeting his, “I mean- it’s astounding. I’m good.” she nodded, indicating for him to keep going, “It’s just… in all our time travelling, I’ve never seen anything like this.”

He laughed softly, pulling her closer by her hand, “I guess,” he grinned, “I’m proud of this place. I’m glad you can see it like that.”

They spend at least three weeks at the Sanctuary.

Aleksander takes his time to introduce Y/N to those around her. He shows her around to all the Healers, the Heartrenders, the Inferni, the Squalors, Tidemakers - technically, he shows her off to everyone. But no one knows, really, who - or what - she is. He doesn’t say. People press and ask and inquire, “Oh, what’s her Grisha order?” “Grisha, are you?” And everytime, one of them answers, “Oh, uh, No.” and refuse to elaborate further.

It has the entire building utterly perplexed as to who this strange white haired girl is, and why she has the Shadow Summoner wrapped around her little finger. Not that The Star or The Shadow Summoner can see it, no, they’re completely oblivious. They don’t see how they’re quiet giggles, teasing, conversations might be perceived as intimate. Nor how the amount of time they spend together might be seen as suspicious.

But when you’ve spent everyday with a person for just over five months, all day, everyday, it’s very hard to separate yourself from the comfort they bring.

The confession comes late at night.

Now that they’re in a place like the Sanctuary, they have their own rooms. They’re only small, and they’re a short walk away from one another, and it gives them each a privacy they haven’t experienced for a few months. For the first week - it’s nice. Having their own beds, their own time, being able to spend some of it alone with their thoughts.

He notices it first. That he’s restless. It’s late at night, most of the building is asleep save for those on night watch, and he can barely close his eyes without feeling disturbed. He feels the need to do something - anything - and so, he gets out of bed, slipping back on his boots at the end of his bed and deciding he’s going to go for a walk. Maybe it’ll help clear his mind.

Aleksander’s almost embarrassed. He can’t… he can’t stop thinking of her. He’s annoyed at himself for it, for letting him get that close, for letting him be so vulnerable to someone who wasn’t even human, who had a child’s grasp on the world…

No, that was being unfair. He calms himself as he steps out of his room. He knows he’s just agitated, tired, a little giddy, and he takes a deep breath as he starts off down the corridor, careful not to let his boots thud too heavily. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he decides he’s just going to walk until he comes across something distracting or gets tired.

His feet take him to her room.

It’s the same size as his, and from the crack in the door he can tell she’s still awake, can hear a slight shuffling inside, candle light flickering on the floor. He realises now, why he’s there. What he’s come to do. And his heart lurches in his chest, but he understands that it’s now or hold his tongue for another few months and he doesn’t want to do that.

Aleksander wants her to know about the Y/N shaped cavern she’s carved into his life. He wants her to know about how all those nights spent travelling in fields were not something he was willing to give up so easily - that when spring came he hoped to do it all again. With her. That he thinks of her endlessly. That when he wakes he hopes she’s still sleeping beside him, just a campfire away. And he wants her closer. He wants her. It’s as simple as that, that he wants to see her smile at him, and laugh - he doesn’t care if it’s at him or with him - Saints, he just wants her happy.

The revelation comes to him, standing so close to her yet so far, on her bedroom doorstep. He takes a breath, steels himself to the sound of her soft humming from the other side of the door, and then raises his fist and knocks three times.

By the first knock, the humming stops. By the second, she’s walking over to the door, he can hear her footsteps. And by the third, the handle is turning. The door opens and he lowers his hand. She’s standing on the other side. Of course it was her, he knew it was her. It doesn’t stop his heart from thudding against his ribs, nor his breath hitching quietly.

The light from the candle makes her seem fully celestial, casting a golden hue across her features, and darkening half her face to accentuate them. It bounces off her silver hair, catching in the strands like a contained forest fire.

“Aleksander?” Y/N greets softly, a small amused smile as she tilts her head in soft confusion, her brow furrowing.

“Zvezda,” He greets softly, his eyes catching in the candle, so dark you can barely separate the pupil from the iris, “Can’t sleep?”

She shakes her head with a small laugh, beckoning him in with her hand, “Always got more energy during the night,” she sighs, “And it’s taking some getting used to, not sleeping in a field, not waking up…” next to you.

But she doesn’t need to finish the sentence, he simply hums in agreement and shuts the door behind him, leaning on it, “I know, it’s a big adjustment.” He runs a hand through his long dark hair, “How are you finding the Sanctuary?”

“It’s nice,” she says softly, briefly fixing her words in a slight hurry, “Sorry, that sounded- it’s lovely. The people are kind, the community is wonderful, food’s much better than bread and cheese and meats,” She grins, “No offence.”

He laughs, his nose wrinkling with the action, “None taken. In fact, I completely agree.”

She sits on her bed as they talk, tucking her legs underneath her, “Can’t sleep either?” She probes.

Aleksander shakes his head as well, “No, feeling restless. Same reasons as you.” He admits, feeling a bit more at ease with the slight indication that the comfort they feel around one another may be mutual, “I guess,” he sighs, bracing himself to admit it, “We spent so long together. A week was fine - but it’s weird. I keep on… waking up and expecting to see you.”

“I know,” she agreed quietly with a small laugh, her head bent down to her hands in her lap, “it’s strange, isn’t it? I feel weird not… walking with you, or doing something, seeing a new town or whatnot. And I have this feeling.” She frowned softly to herself.

He tilts his head, folds his arms, “What feeling, Zvezda?” He asks, his brow furrowing gently.

“I… I don’t know.” she said, her eyes narrowing as she looked not quite at him - but just over his shoulder - “It’s like… this…tightness.” her hand came to her chest, her nose scrunching softly, “Here. Like… nausea. But not quite - I’m not going to be sick. And I can feel my heart. And it… it feels like wanting. But stronger?”

His eyes widened a fraction, “And uh, when do you feel it?”

She tilted her head, her eyes zeroing in on him in confusion and uncertainty, “When…” when I think about you. “Oh.” She said quietly, “Is that what that is?” her hand gently rubbed her chest, clearly where she felt it strongest, a sheepish laugh as she turned her eyes to the candle, anywhere but him, “They don’t describe it like this in the books.”

He breathed a sigh of relief as he realised that he wouldn’t have to explain to her that what she was feeling was, at least, a crush. If not more. Aleksander laughed softly, “No, no they do not.”

Y/N laughed too, mildly embarrassed and still somewhat avoiding looking at him, her hands fidgeting, “Look, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be.” he cut her off, “Don’t be, please don’t be, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He cleared his throat and took a sharp breath, standing up from leaning on the door, “It’s… it’s mutual, Y/N.” and he took a hesitant step towards her, “Zvezda.” He said the nickname to get her attention.

It worked, her head turning slightly, and he continued, “Please don’t ever apologise for having feelings.” He said, his tone so much softer than he was comfortable with, “You’re a human now.” he laughed a little, crouching down in front of her as she sat on the bed, “It’s your job now. To feel. To make the most of life. So,” he said with a playful shrug, “we both have… crushes on one another.” It felt childish to say ‘crushes’ but he couldn’t think of a better word.

“I mean…” he sighed softly, “That’s kind of… why I came here.” He confessed.

“Really?” she asked quietly, watching him intently as he spoke.

“Really.” he echoed, standing up. She patted the bed beside her for him to sit, and he gratefully took it, glad she was taking this all so well and she wasn’t clamming up about their feelings for one another, “Look, Y/N, Zvezda. You’ve changed my life,” he said with a small laugh of disbelief, “I mean… you’re a Star, for Saint’s sake. You are, by nature, brilliant. And you’ve been nothing short of that in the months we’ve been travelling. Even if your humour is appalling.” He softly teased, earning a playful grumble of, “It is not.” from her.

“It is!” he insisted with a teasing grin, “You laugh at all my bad jokes, dear.”

“Yeah well,” her initial embarrassment was beginning to fade as they engaged in their usual banter, “I think that says more about you for making the bad jokes.” to which he scoffed, and she dispersed into laughter, the two of them leaning back on the single bed.

The laughter lasted a moment longer before fading out with a soft, content sigh. He grinned at her from where he was, a hand reaching forward for hers as he softly, half-teasingly, murmured, “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” “Shining, Zvezda.”

“What can I say?” she laughed quietly, her head finding his shoulder, “I’m happy.”

A/N: I cannot wait to go to bed. And also to start part two. Goodnight!! <;3

#Last Words of A Shooting Star AU #Stardust AU #the darkling X reader #Shadow And bone X reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #general kirigan x reader #kirigan x reader #stardust au #thebigsl33p

160 notes · View notes

padfootagain · 1 year ago

Text

Hold My Hand Instead of His

Hello everyone!! We're answering a request for my event today!

Here is the first request coming from two anons, actually, who have requested the same tropes: “Hiya! Can I request The Darkling Soulmate AU with an arranged marriage trope? But the reader is meant to get married to someone else? Can have a little bit of jealousy if you wish. Either that or enemies to lovers you choose” and “Hi carooole!!! Congrats for 6k!! I'm so happy when I see you on my TL again i've been following you since 2020 aaaa

I would like to request The Darkling, Soulmates AU and Arranged Marriage please !🫶

I hope you're having a good day and congratulations again <3”

I love this idea of an arranged marriage with someone else ifoeofueuojeji that’s amazing. I hope you like what I’ve written for your request, anon! <3

Hope you all like this. Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: The Darkling x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff; I’m distorting canon rules of Grisha magic to apply to a Soulmate AU I hope you like it

Summary: You are engaged to the Prince of Ravka, through an arranged marriage, in order to pacify relations between Grisha and otkazat’sya. The issue: Nikolai Lantsov is not your soulmate, and you are torn between duty and love.

Word Count: 3554

The Darkling’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

What could happen if the world were to be devoured by shadows?

Sometimes, as you laid down at night, staring at the shining stars and moon, you asked yourself this question. Would it be the end? The beginning? The continuation? Would anything change?

You felt a little too lost in your life these days to be afraid of the shadows, of the blindness they carried. If you were so lost, weren’t you alone already?

Besides, these were his shadows. If anyone else could fear the dark because it was his, you felt the opposite.

Your gaze turned from the window to the door on the opposite wall. Why were you chosen to marry the prince anyway? Granted, you were a powerful Grisha, but there were others who could have done it, why did it have to be you?

You knew that Nikolai Lantsov was not your soulmate. There was no wonder about it. As a Grisha, your soulmate would be easy to detect: a simple touch and your powers would be amplified. A surge of power matching the rush of a heart. You had touched the prince before, had felt nothing. It wasn’t him…

Actually, you knew who was your soulmate. You had touched him once, without meaning to. While he was asleep, after a long day spent on a battlefield. You can see it all over again: the dry blood still tainting his forehead, the quiet of his breathing, the calmness on his features. He seemed so innocent then, so different from the man who had used his shadows against the world mere hours before. You remember as well the water you had been carrying to his tent, the reason for your presence in the first place. Because of course, you were a powerful Grisha, but he was The Darkling, a general, a leader, unreachable. You remember, though, the light shiver that shook his frame, the blanket that had fallen from his chest during his sleep. To this day, you didn’t know what had come over you that night, putting down your bucket of cold water, gently holding the blanket to cover his long frame once more. And it was an accident, really, a mere miscalculation of trajectory, when you brushed your fingers against his. And you remember the surge of power shaking your entire frame, making it hard to breathe, igniting every cell in your body. The sudden knowledge of your powers beating in your muscles at the same rhythm as your heartbeat. It was so strong, you could barely control your powers enough to not burn him, feeling flames surging to your hands. You were certain that the warmth escaping through every inch of your skin was warming the entire room. It felt like you could have burned the entire world…

It had taken you a long time to finally accept the truth that was revealed that night: the Darkling was your soulmate. Amplifying abilities could only happen between people bound by true love and fate alike, and that cold night spent on the verge of Fjerda, you had revealed an unbelieving truth. The Darkling was your soulmate. Your one true love.

Even now, you contemplated this fact with a tinge of bitterness. He was the Darkling, and you… it would be absolutely impossible for the two of you to be together. Now more than ever. You had been chosen to marry the prince of Ravka, it would strengthen the Grisha, protect them… you had worked hard to protect your people, you couldn’t abandon them simply because you were being a silly romantic. This wasn’t about love. This was about duty and the need of your people. Besides, it could have been worse. Nikolai wasn’t a bad man, marrying his brother would have been much closer to martyrdom.

These were the words you repeated yourself over and over again, every night since the announcement. And they were sensible and logical, but they did not prevent the aching in your chest, the tears at the corners of your eyes, or the urge to run across the Little Palace to the Darkling’s War Room to tell him the truth and beg him to take you away…

You closed your eyes, the world even darker than before. Against your eyelids, you painted his tall frame wrapped in his shadows, the dark of his infinite eyes, the sot beard on his cheeks. It was useless though, and terribly childish.

After all, how could the Darkling do anything against your union with Nikolai Lantsov? He didn’t even know you were his soulmate…

You didn’t know that he was your soulmate, and it was slowly killing him.

The Darkling looked at you now, dressed in the finest silk the kingdom of Ravka could offer. Your hand resting on Nikolai Lantsov’s arm, gloved in white fabric. He was showing you off, the bastard. He was playing his part in this political plot a little too well, took too much pleasure in parading with you by his side. And you were so unlike your true self. Too pliant, too obedient, smiling too politely. But Aleksander knew who you could be, this other side of you. The one covered with blood, the one burning like the flames ignited by your fingers and palms.

The Darkling was being ridiculous, and he knew it. He had worked too hard to reach this position, over the long hours of centuries, he had crafted his myth, his image, his power, his influence. And Nikolai Lantsov marrying a Grisha was a central part of his plot, it was vital, actually. It was a new step towards the throne…

But you… why did it have to be you?

He was being ridiculous, and he knew it. He had abandoned the idea of an everlasting love such a long time ago. Centuries ago. He had built an armour around his heart, he had grown as ruthless as his shadows, he had grown too determined to be drawn off-course by sentiments.

And yet, as he looked at you now, at the way you leaned against another man, he wanted to destroy the entirety of Ravka and the world beyond too, if need be. He wanted to tear the fabrics of the universe apart, and scream against the night sky.

The Darkling was selfish, and he knew it. And yet, his selfishness was always directed towards the same goal he had been pursuing for centuries, for lifetimes… he could not simply yield now. Of course he wanted you, you were connected by a power stronger than the Small Science he used as weapons and shields. Still… still he couldn’t simply yield, it would ruin everything.

Aleksander remembers, though. He remembers that afternoon, the clouds of smoke rising from the broken earth, the screams, the irony taste of blood in the air. He remembers looking for you, though he didn’t know why his instinct made him look for your frame across the battlefield. And yet, every fibre of his being was screaming at him to find you. He remembers the beating of his heart and his shallow breathing, the pain of his own wounds making his head spin. He remembers catching the colour of your hair there, lying in the dirt, his gaze moving to your closed eyelids… He remembers the sudden fear that shook him, even though he didn’t know why he felt that way. Because you were, of course, a powerful Inferni, he suspected that you were unusually gifted, and yet… you were just a soldier. Why was he so upset? He had seen thousands of people dying, thousands of his soldiers falling… why was it so different now? He remembers the way he had stumbled as he rushed to your side, falling by your side more than kneeling. Your still frame, your peaceful expression, you looked like you were merely asleep. He remembers too well the slow movement of his own fingers towards your throat, pressing against your pulse to feel your heart, and the surge of power that coursed through his frame, ignited his blood, sparkling every cell of his body. Such an overcoming beating of power in his heart, he didn’t control the shadows that sprang from his frame, that gathered from all around the two of you to cover both of your frames. He didn’t control it. He knew at once what it meant though. And his shadows pulsed, at the same rhythm as his own heart and, as he noticed your pulse, as your heart as well.

Two hearts. One heartbeat. Soulmates…

Aleksander looked away, focusing his dark eyes on the drink in his hands instead of your frame. This surge of power he had felt, unbearable, uncontrollable, too wild to be tamed… he knew what it meant, of course. When he was young, and naïve, and stupid, he had spent long decades looking for it. The reason of his failure then was obvious now. You did not exist yet, you were born centuries apart… how cruel the world could be, making him wait for so long, only to snatch you away…

The Darkling was being ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. For longing for you so much it hurt, for seriously considering walking over to you and lie about a need to see you alone, and kiss you in the safety of his shadows, with your back pressed against a wall and your skin under his palms…

But was he so ridiculous? He couldn’t help it, after all. If fate itself had weaved your two lives, your two souls together, how could he simply ignore it?

He could have laughed at himself for being naïve all over again, a boy who longed for a fairer world. Fairness didn’t exist, it wasn’t in human nature. Marriages had little to do with love at all when they involved the royal family. It was about politics, not sentiments.

But then, why did Aleksander felt your numb body in his arms all over again, the weight of your unconsciousness resting on his forearms as he carried you to safety that afternoon, the shallow warmth of your breath against his neck, as you turned to him and looked at him from across the crowd, catching his gaze with ease?

But then, why did he want nothing but to leave everything behind now, everything he had worked so hard on and had lost so much of his own self to reach, at the mere hope of running away with you?

But you didn’t know he was your soulmate. You were unconscious then, when he had touched your skin, you couldn’t feel the amplification held in his bones for you.

He turned around, his back to you now to relieve the temptation to stare at you for too long. The Darkling was patient, but Aleksander was selfish. Would he hold on, or tell you the truth?

The answer came with the breeze of spring and a kiss stolen by the lake.

It came from you, actually. From the feeling of warm lips against yours, and hands on your cheeks, and the sudden knowledge of a truth you had been pushing away out of duty.

You couldn’t do this.

You pulled away quickly, leaving a rather stunned Nikolai Lantsov behind. You didn’t look at him as you spun on your heels, as you ran away across the grass and towards the Little Palace. You didn’t look back as you spotted the Darkling there, under the trees, speaking with Ivan. You were crying, you realised it only because it made their frame a little blur. Still, you aimed straight for the Darkling, who frowned at the sight of you. He dismissed Ivan with a mere gesture of the hand, and walked towards you.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

You wanted to rush into his arms, but didn’t dare to. Because he didn’t know you were his soulmate, and would notice if you touched his skin…

You were surprised when he held your upper-arm to steady you, though. But he was touching the fabric of your dress, you couldn’t feel the bond between the two of you…

“Y/N, what happened?”

You took a couple of deep breaths. You were being utterly ridiculous. You had fought battles, had killed people, had buried friends… this was a mere kiss, why did it upset you so much?

When you looked up at the Darkling, his expression was unreadable, a perfectly calm demeanour. There was but the ghost of a frown to show that he cared.

Did he care though? He didn’t know…

You couldn’t hold it back any longer. You had to tell him. Because he would probably push you away anyway, remind you of your duty towards Ravka, towards your fellow Grisha, and break your heart for good. And then, perhaps you could accept your arranged marriage with the prince…

“I can’t do it,” you let out in a breath, shaking your head. “I am sorry, but I cannot do it. I can’t marry Lantsov.”

The Darkling’s frown deepened, he leaned a little closer, his eyes searching yours, digging their way into your mind and heart until he could peer right into your soul.

“Did he hurt you? What happened?”

“He didn’t hurt me, he…”

You took a shaky breath, closed your eyes tightly for a moment, trying to release the words and hold back a sob.

“He kissed me.”

When you opened your eyes again, fell back into the gaze as dark as the shadows they summoned, you couldn’t read through them. Aleksander had clenched his jaw, but he was still as unreadable as ever.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do it… I can’t marry him…”

“Y/N, calm down. This is important.”

“I have a soulmate.”

His lips parted slightly, but he remained silent, frozen in expectation. His hold on your arm tightened, it was the only movement he made until you spoke again.

You wondered where your strength came from as you finally confessed the truth, you didn’t think you had it in you. Even if your voice was but a weak whisper, the words were let out, audible and clear, lifting a heavy weight from your shoulders and heart.

“It’s you. You’re my soulmate.”

You shook your head, eyes begging for forgiveness, even if none of this was your fault in the first place.

“I’m sorry. I… one day I touched you without meaning to while you slept, just… just your finger and… I felt it. The amplifying. And I… I didn’t tell you, because I know that you are focused on your task concerning Ravka, that this is not your priority, that you probably don’t even care but… You’re my soulmate. And I can’t marry another man, I simply can’t. I’ll fight as hard as I can, I’ll risk my life, I’ll kill and do whatever needs to be done, but as a soldier. Please… please, help me. Help me not marry him. I cannot marry someone else when I love you so deeply. I am not asking for anything else, I simply…”

Your voice died down as his hold on your kefta tightened, becoming almost painful, the hold unforgiving.

His stare was even more intense now, if that was even possible. You read hesitation in them, something you had never seen before on him…

His eyes fell from your gaze to your mouth, intense and holding you hostage, making your heart jump and crash against your ribcage. When his eyes flickered back to rest on yours, he was out of breath as he spoke.

“I know.”

You could only stare at him, stunned. You could feel your heart shattering…

“Do you remember when you were wounded in the South? About a year ago?”

Slowly, you nodded.

“I am the one who found you, unconscious, lying among the dead. I checked your pulse.”

“Oh…”

The ghost of an amused smile tugged at his lips.

“’Oh’, indeed.”

Slowly, you nodded. Because he knew, and yet he had done nothing to prevent this marriage.

“I thought you didn’t know,” he went on. “I thought it was better that way.”

“Because I must marry Nikolai to help the Grisha?”

But he was too earnest in his answer, his hand slowly rising to your cheek, but he didn’t touch you. Instead, he let his hand hover over your face, close enough to feel the heat of your skin, but still away, unbearably so.

“Because I do not want to have weaknesses. And loving you would turn you into a weakness.”

Again, you nodded, although you were more lost than ever.

“I can’t marry Nikolai,” you breathed again, the tears coming back into your eyes.

“If you do not, Ravka will be endangered, and Grisha more than anyone else.”

You looked down at your feet, the weight of duty too heavy on your shoulders now, despite the strength in them, the endurance of a soldier.

Aleksander could not bear the sight. Beyond duty, your frame was crushed by another burden he knew only too well, after carrying it for so many centuries.

Loneliness…

If he caved in, you would never have to be alone again, and neither would he…

Slowly, he closed the space between your two skins, his hand coming to rest on your cheek, guiding gently your face upward to look at him again. And the power that coursed through your bodies now was so intense, so overwhelming, that you couldn’t help the flames that sparked in the air all around you, and he couldn’t master the shadows that twirled around your frames. Fire and darkness mingled in a whirlwind that covered the world, made you escape from it. It was a strange dance on your features, the burning lights of flames dancing with his shadows in your eyes…

The decision was easy to make.

He leaned down before you could move, or speak, or master your powers again. Only when his lips moved over yours, when you lost yourself in his touch, when he melted under your palms and pressed himself against you, did your powers calm down. You felt the warmth of the sun against your face instead of the heat of flames, the constant light of the distant star painting your eyelids red instead of the unsteady black of his twirling shadows. And there was no thought left to be thought, no breath to be drawn, no duty to cave under. Instead, there was the passion of Aleksander’s kiss, the gentle tug of your fingers on his hair, the tingle of his beard against your soft skin. There was nothing in the world but the two of you, feelings overwhelming, and at the back of your mind, still, the knowledge of immense power waiting to be freed.

When you broke apart, both of you out of breath, Aleksander pulled away just enough to look at you again, to capture your gaze with his, making your heart stutter all over again.

“Do not marry him.”

You stopped breathing altogether as the words passed his lips. He slowly shook his head. His hold on your face tightened a little, he moved a little closer, and his voice was dangerously tempting, almost begging, when he spoke again.

“I can take care of this,” he assured you, his tone sounding like a promise. “I can make him back down. We are soulmates, this is our right…”

“But what about Grisha…”

“Lantsov can marry someone else. He chose you because he had a crush on you, he will get over it and choose someone else.”

“Do you really mean that?”

He smiled.

“We are soulmates. Do you not know the answer already?”

And as you stared at him for a little longer, you did. You knew he meant it. You could see it in his dark eyes, in the tension of his jaw, feel it in the way he held you a little too tight, a little too close, a tinge of desperation searing cracks through his perfect composure.

One of his hands let go of you, and he offered it, palm up and open, an offering of weakness and vulnerability.

“Choose me,” he demanded in a breathy whisper. “I’ll manage Lantsov, I’ll get you out of this marriage. We could be together. We can fight. Choose me. Hold my hand instead of his. Share your heart with me, not with him. Y/N…”

He fell silent as you took his hand, as you pulled him down to kiss him again, passionate and breathtaking.

He smiled into the kiss, he couldn’t help it. Because of your lips against his, because of the love you shared, because of the relief coursing through his entire frame after finally surrendering to the feelings he had held back for months, because of the shushing of its constant loneliness under your palms, because of the power you released into his body by a simple caress…

Aleksander was selfish, after all, and he would have you, if you chose him. He would do without this alliance with the Lantsov family. He didn’t need it. Instead of political leverage, you were now offering a power of his own.

He broke the kiss, held you close to him, rested his lips against your hair. Yes, he would have you. And if need be, he’d take the light out of this entire world, while you burned it to the ground.

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling x you #the darkling x y/n #the darkling imagine #the darkling fanfiction #the darkling fanfic #aleksander morozova #aleksander kirigan #aleksander x reader #aleksander x y/n #aleksander x you #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

265 notes · View notes

empressgeekt · 3 months ago

Text

Sonic and The Black Knight - "Medival in a Modern World" fic summery

So, I've fallen back into the STH fandom for a hot minute. Falling down into the rabbit hole that is the Black Knight game. Which apparently has a small cult following? And if anyone has read my Pokémon fic, you know medieval meeting modern is one of my favorite tropes. So, After reading through such fics as "Coruscation" by @oz-qwin, "What Isn't Yours" by aTalewithEars, and the "Sonic Destiny AU" by @burning-stars98 I've been bitten by the Sonic X Arthurian tales bug. (Pls go read these other fics, the authors are very talented and their works deserve far more attention then they current have.)

So, taking some inspiration from the fic mentioned above, and my own headcanons/aus, here's my take on the knights of the round table being taken forward in time to the age of what ever the heck year the present is for the Sonic lore in fic summery form.

HeadCanons to keep note of For context!

Maria : This story will be featuring my own version of Maria Robotnik. She was revived as a Hedgehog using old DNA stores from PROJECT SHADOW with modified phenotypes, and chaos energy, to be used a psychological weapon against Shadow by a rogue branch of GUN, during an Event known as the Equinox War. Later on after being freed from the Rogue branch, she joined the front lines (that girl took a bullet to save her brother, she is not going to sit on the sidelines while he fights a war), mostly working in the desert zones, where she picked up swordsmanship from Zero the Jackal, and an enchanted blade of her own (this one is not from Camelot though). She starts working with Team Dark Post War, to stay close to family, but keeps in contact with all the friends she made in the Desert along with her own team, Team Sahara (Maria, Gadget the Wolf, and Zero the Jackal).

Equinox War: One year Post Forces, (this whole concept was written out before fronters was released) the world was kind of wrapped up in a second major conflict that is known as the Equinox war. That event was basically another ancient god-like being rising from her slumber that go so big that GUN had to get involved and they took a big hit in terms of resources. However, unlike before Eggman was just caught in the crossfire of the whole thing and didn't actually raise the deity.

Eclipse the Darkling: Eclipse had remained in hiding after the conflict on Angel Island, until he was captured by human forces and held for experimentation that less than legal. He was captive until mid Equinox War, where Shadow raided the base he was trapped in. Post rescue the brothers sort out there issues and bond while trying to locate the Dark Arms (Maria really got on their case as well, wanting her brothers to not kill each other). He still doesn't like humans, but it's more from a trauma stand point rather then looking at them as lesser. He joined up with GUN for the protection it offers him Post War, and to stay close with his brother and sister.

Zero the Jackal: Like many people of the fandom I was disappointed with Infinite's wasted potential and decided to do something about. After Forces, Eggman rips the phantom Ruby from his chest and dumps him in the desert to die. A fate that Zero is fine with at this point, he's lost everything and without the Ruby to manipulate his emotions his head is clear enough to finally grieve and accept his death. By some miracle Gadget finds him, and goes "No, you don't deserve this. If you feel guilty, then chase redemption, cause I'm not letting you give up." Zero does achieve this, by destroying all Phantom Ruby copies during the Equinox war, though it does cost him his left arm. And Gadget and Tails build him a prosthetic. His situation with Shadow is still kind of tense, but they play nice for Maria's sake.

(if you have any questions feel free to ask, if I missed the context)

Summery:

We start with Ivo Robotnik. Eggman had been sort of in the dry spell when it comes to evil schemes. He's been in a slump since the Equinox conflict and with GUN stretched thin, it was the perfect time to strike.

While plotting, Sage had been going through his old data files and stumbled upon some old notes from Gerald Robotnik. Eggman would at first dismiss it until he reads closer, and learns that during the early days of PROJECT SHADOW, his uncle, Maria's Father, had stumbled upon a number of tombs from a kingdom lost to time. Due to the relics inside the tombs it was believed they belonged to great warriors, and Eggman's Uncle ended up sending over some of the relics along with bone samples up to the ARK. With Eggman's curiosity peaked, he decides to explore his Grandfather's quarters on the ARK. Sure the place had been cleaned out during the initial invasion, but Gerald wasn't called a genius for nothing. Hidden in a secret compartment inside of his office, Eggman finds a collection of old swords and the bone samples. With that the mad doctor has his next plan to hatch. He would revive these warriors of old, and use them to Concur the WORLD!!!! Ivo is pretty confident in this plan. Modify one of his bases with the right equipment, and have metal steal a chaos emerald or two and he'd be golden! Right?...No way these guys would side with Sonic the blue rat.

Let's swap POVs real quick! Lancelot is very confused when he wakes up. After all the last thing he remembers is dying during the fall of Camelot. One final attack on castle town ended in a blaze that consumed all who were involved. He should be dead. So, how in his mother's name is he alive on a cold armored floor, surrounded by his comrades and son imprisoned in crystal chambers filled with unknown waters. Gawain, Percival and Galahad (Sir Lamorak's tomb was never found hence no revival) are released from their chambers not long after, and then a tall creature enters the room, a man dressed in strange garments with a mustache of utter fantastic propositions. Ivo Robotnik as he introduces himself, is some form of a wizard, who tells them he has used very powerful magic to summon them from beyond the grave to fight against evil forces who are now invading the land.

The next week is a confusing one. Robotnik fashions them new armor and while he claims to have their swords the Dr. has not returned them yet. There's a lot of conflicting emotions surrounding the whole ordeal. Lancelot is just mostly relieved that Galahad has been brought back along side him, as he had to learn that his son was slain on the same battlefield as he. Percival is quiet, though she is suspicious of Robotnik off the bat. Gawain is the first to get stir crazy, and wants to know they way to the exit, however he feels as if he owes Robotnik for his rebirth and should be loyal.

At some point Galahad ropes Gawain into exploring the base and they find some rather interesting things. First off clearly Robotnik is by far an incredibly powerful wizard, judging by the number of enchanted armor soldiers he wields and the fact that he has a daughter whom they mistake for a fae spirit, on a count of Sage's less corporal nature. However the most surprising fact they learn comes from the little servants that follow the Dr. around. Orbot and Cubot were the first of the enchanted armor suits they met, and they eventually let it slip that Lancelot's Bone was used once before in an experiment to make an Ultimate Warrior. Cubot is the one who rambles on about it, how there is no question since they look so similar, and how shadow betrayed Robotnik before Orbot shuts him up.

It's this discovery that raises a lot of questions. After all if warrior made from Lancelot's bone was anything like his father, why would he turn against Robotnik...unless he knew something they didn't. Unfortunately for them they have this conversation right in front of a set of security cameras and Sage let's Eggman know immediately. and he figures the plan is a bust, so he decides to terminate it before it gets any further. In the middle of the night the knights flee from badniks through out the facility, a chase that ends with Lancelot sending the other three away with magic and getting captured. Percival, Galahad and Gawain are tossed into a random spot on in the mobius country side. This place while outside is clearly not camelot, they are with out swords...and WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE UNDERWORLD HAPPENED TO THE MOON?!

Switching gears over. Sonic has been enjoying a little break from the mayhem of the Equinox War. Eggman had been quiet and peace restored, meaning he had a lovely few weeks of just freedom and hanging with his friends and brother. Of course, he knew this wouldn't last, it never did, and one night Tails' satellite picked up on a weird energy jump near the workshop on the Greenhill coast. Figuring it's the next big adventure, he grabs a flashlight and zips over to investigate. Only to find faces he never thought he would see again. Sonic remembers the fall of Camelot, burning alive by dragon fire, only to wake up in his room in Tails' workshop. He thought it was dream. Yet here stood three familiar faces he'd never thought he would see again. Their reunion is one of relief and shock. Still once pleasantries are exchanged, Sonic is down to help them, their his friends and its his job to stop Eggman at whatever the doctor is planning. He takes them to Tails' workshop, to further a plan and to get Tails' on the hero network, or a web of communication between Mobius' heroes he set up for easy information exchange. The Fox was underneath the impression that the whole Camelot thing was a dream too, but isn't that phased by the bizarre situation.

While Gawain and Percival are exstaic to find that they had been reborn in the realm of their King. Galahad is a little more worried. Out of the three he had the least interactions with Sonic while in Camelot, he and Lamaork were out on a training journey for most of his short rule, and only came back for the fall. Getting his father out of Robotnik's hands is his priority, after all snuffing a life was far easier then bringing on back to life, and the Doctor was capable of both or worse things. And while Sonic does want to get Lancelot back, Galahad feels as if merely the five of them will be enough. So, he asks if they could locate his brother, as surely he'd want their father back as soon as possible. Sonic and Tails are confused at first but once Galahad explains what Cubot told him, their faces drop and they utter one word, "Shadow."

It's decided after this revelation that they have to involve Team Dark, one they have the most experience with infiltration and have access to GUN resources, two if Lancelot is Shadow's dad, they can't not tell Shadow with how touchy the topic of family is to the dark hedgehog. Sure, he had definitely mellowed out since Maria was revived and Eclipse was reformed (these three are a trio of chaos siblings who get their happily every after, and I will die on this hill), but his history with parental figures were never the best, with the at best brainwashing him and at worst trying to kill him. Still Shadow will likely be more upset the longer they keep it from him, so Sonic, along with Gawain and Galahad travel off to the cities since Rouge isn't picking up her phone, while Percival and Tails try to locate the base Eggman is likely using for his main base this scheme.

By the time they make it to team dark's apartment it's really late at night, but Sonic decides just to barge in anyway, after all Rouge can be nocturnal if she wants to be and Omega only needs to charge his chaos drive like once a week so at least one person is awake at all times. Omega answers the door and in order to wake up his flesh bag teammates he activates his intruder alarm system, the chaos that followed ended with several broken windows, shouting, a bunch of crying dark arms and a flaming sword stuck in the living room wall.

Galahad knows his brother the moment Shadow runs into the room. The spinning image of their father, down to sleepy sneer. What he didn't expect was for this reptilian creature to growl at him when he got close to his brother. Several family realizations happen in the next coming moments. Galahad learns of Maria, who is technically his sister due to her new body being built from left over DNA samples from PROJECT SHADOW, just with altered phenotypes so she resembled her human self, and Shadow having a half brother from a race the lived in the stars.

Shadow doesn't take learning of his hedgehog heritage well, as far as he's concerned Lancelot is a stranger. Sure, he'll rescue the knight from Eggman, but only because he's being held against his will..and maybe because he wants a blood test just to be sure. Maria is a little more open, she gets the whole stranger thing, however she can't deny that it makes sense. Her human father and grandfather were obsessed with old legends, even going so far as to read tales of the round table to her as bedtime stories when she was little. That along with the passion she found for swordfighting after being revived is enough prove for her. Eclipse just wants to back to bed, he has four little ones all of which were rudely awakened in the middle of the night. He does not have time for family issues, besides technically this has nothing to do with his side of the familial tree. However, he does keep a mental eye on Shadow's mind through the hive just to make sure his big brother is okay.

Rouge goes into spy mode once given a directive. She knows this situation might become explosive if they don't start focusing on a mission plan. She video calls Tails and the fox reveals their findings along with what the Chaotix have after getting in touch with them. Sadly their findings had been meagre so far but they've narrowed down a few hidden facilities, Rouge with GUN Intel can cut out a few more, and Shadow and Maria know the revival process and what type of environment is needed for it to work properly. Unless Eggman built an entire new base for this plan which is unlikely due to a shortage of resources post war, they narrow it down to one location. They call Topaz for a ride and to watch the dark arms while they're gone and the mission is on.

While on the plane ride to the base. Galahad and Percival talk about Shadow. Galahad is rather disappointed Shadow acts so distant, he's always wanted siblings. Maria has been sweet, but she still feels detached and Eclipse hasn't talked to him period. The cat revealing that she had read over the files that Tails had on Shadow's birth. The information explains some things but not others, the closeness between Shadow and Eclipse is explained by some magic linking the two as Black Arm "Princes", being born from the Black Arm king's blood, however how did Maria fit into the picture? What happened to Shadow's other parent? Did he perish? Where was the Black Arm kingdom? Did it crumble? Leaving Shadow without a family or crown to inherit? Is the reason Shadow is so distant with him because he doesn't want to replace the Black King with their father? Sadly however, Galahad doesn't get to dwell on his questions, as he has to watch as his brother and king jump out of the flying machine for an air drop assault.

Omega, Rouge and Tails with air support keep the badniks outside busy, while the rest of the team goes inside. First the stumble upon a storeroom that thankfully has Caliburn. However, it becomes rather evident that this whole thing was trap, as soon they come face to face with Metal Sonic and a Roboticized Lancelot, wielding Arondight. A fight quickly breaks out, the rest of them covering Maria as she tries to jerry rig the equipment in the room to try and reverse the change. Eventually Metal gets knocked to the side, and this gives Maria chance she needs successfully reversing the transformation, much to everyone relief. However the moment is short lived, Metal is never down for long, and to escape he shoots the still woozy Lancelot.

A hasty retreat is call, cause good lord, a hedgehog should not lose this much blood. A GUN medical center is happy to take Lancelot in, however they need information from a next of kin and Galahad knows nothing of their modern medicine. Shadow and Maria thankfully step in at that point (they know how to talk to doctors), and they settle in for the long wait. At some point Shadow drags Galahad off to the showers, the grey hedgehog still being covered in blood. Which leads to a little bonding between the two. Commander Tower comes down to figure what the hell is happening, because when his assistance came running to him saying "Shadow" was just admitted to surgery, he thought there was a new weapon threatening the world. Only to be less then thrilled with the whole medieval knights thing, since it means a lot of paper work for him.

Eventually, Everyone (including Lancelot, he's at major risk for post-op infection at the hospital, and Shadow, Rouge and Maria are first aid trained) just heads back to the Team Dark Apartment and once there set up, crashes. Shadow gives up his bed for Lancelot, and bunks with Maria, who insisted on a "Sibling Sleep Pile", while everyone else piles on their massive couch. At some point in the night Maria realizes that Galahad never went to sleep, staying perched at his father's bedside despite looking half dead, and drags him to join her and her other brothers and the Dark Arms for the night.

Galahad wakes up the next morning, too Shadow and Eclipse leaving the room. He follows them and is roped into helping them make breakfast. The grey hedgehog ends up asking about the whole Hive mind thing, since it's very clear the other two are having a conversation without speaking. He quickly learns that Eclipse talks a lot more willingly then Shadow, however when the Topic of Black Doom comes up and Galahad starts pushing a little two far, Eclipse subtlety points out Shadow's back scars from the Doom Wings. Galahad quickly catches on, and his opinion of the Black king drops greatly. Once the smell of fresh waffles hits the air, the other occupants start to wake up. Rouge makes coffee (giving straight beans for Shadow and Maria, with a disgusted look), and maybe hooks Gawain on the stuff.

The topic of finding the other blades come up, at this point all they have are Caliburn and Arondight, and reasonable that Eggman took the others with him as he escaped. So, they spend a few hours making plans to go Eggman hunting. Sonic pulls, Tails, Gawain, Percival and Omega out into the field to get information, and start tracking. They take shifts looking around, using the Team Dark Apartment, and Tails' workshop as home bases. During this time a number of interactions happen. When Galahad is ordered to take a break from sitting at his father's bedside he's sparing with either one of the knights or trying to learn some of the battle tactics his new brothers and sister employ. Sonic would take Gawain over to Angel Island to see what Knuckles knows and the echidnas get along like water and rain. While Rouge introduces Percival to the wonderful world of grave robbing.

Lancelot wakes up a couple days later. Galahad was forced to go to bed once 1 am rolled around, so Sonic and Gawain took over watching the wounded knight. They get him caught up, before bringing in Galahad, leading to a touching father-son reunion. Bullet wounds aren't fun to heal from, so despite waking up he's still pretty much not field ready yet. So, he has to entertain himself with speaking to those taking short breaks from searching. This gives him to talk to his sons knew siblings the sheer number of them, unknown to him but not unwelcome. Maria and Eclipse are the most open to talking. The former being polite, curious about more swordsmanship techniques and very willing to explain modern inventions, and the latter, while clearly not Lancelot's by blood, is still clearly a child on some level and will blabber on about anything given the chance. Shadow however, is distant, much to Lancelot's disappointment. Galahad would mention that the scars on Shadow's back were from his (and Eclipse's) other parent, and the elder knight's opinion of Black Doom drops greatly. No father, King or not, should ever harm their child.

Eventually the search for the other swords leads to the desert zones, and Maria pulls in Team Sahara, since no way in heck are they surviving the desert without a guide. Zero and Gadget happy to help, if Eggman is hiding out in their territory they want him gone. Even if their a little baffled by the whole knight situation (Z: how are you not weirded out? G: At this point I can't even question it anymore. M: You're weirded out, I'm living it!) Using connections to the gangs on the outer bend they find where the doctor is hiding. Long story short they take out the base and reclaim the swords.

Meanwhile, Galahad pulls Shadow out on a different mission. The young knight had noticed that while Shadow has accelerated healing, his father's has been lacking. So, he's been begging to see if they can find grandmother's lake. It was always her magic that aided Lancelot. Shadow indulges, though he's skeptical, sure spirits and immortal beings lasted a long time, but they never lasted forever. They could be killed, either by someone's hand or their power running out. Lakes hardly lasted in the modern world, they drain with dams or the landscape changes. Galahad holds on to hope until they manage to uncover the ruins of the lake. It's just another reminder that this is not the world they left so long ago. Shadow eventually asks if the lake was spring fed, and that leads them to a cave, and what's left of Nimue. She is not as strong as she once was. A fae coming to the end of her lifecycle, and unable to communicate beyond a disembodied voice. It breaks Galahads heart, but Nimue comforts him with the knowledge that while she is nearing the end, what she has left is much longer in mortal time. In return, he introduces Shadow, who Nimue is thrilled to meet. However, as much as it pains her she cannot help Lancelot. Once he is well he can return to her for her to restore the enchantments she placed upon him as an infant so long ago, but the distance is too far now. Shadow's magic comes from a different source (black doom's blood), hence no need for enchantments.

In the end, Eggman is beaten back, but he'll return. He always does. This whole situation makes Sonic think about how it would've been easier, if they had better contact with all the other heroes of the world. From an off comment from Caliburn, he starting thinking that maybe the whole table thing might need to be brought back, though it would need a better name.

---

Been awhile since I was part of this fandom. So, let me know you're thoughts?

37 notes · View notes