#au: in the shadows of the fae | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leiawritesstories · 2 months

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and the water creeps to my chest

oh no i got really into Mumford & Sons during finals and accidentally wrote some slight angst for @throneofglassmicrofics 😂🫡

basic premise: canon AU where fae/mythical creatures don't exist but magic and arobynn do ;)

Prompt: "Deep End" // song: "Thistle & Weeds"

word count: 574

warnings: slight angst

enjoy!!

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The fire wouldn't come.

Aelin knew it could, and she knew that it had, and it wasn't. It wasn't coming. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many breathing or grounding exercises or how many mental doors she unlocked, her fire would not come.

Perhaps it sensed the danger lurking in the red-haired man across the training yard and refused to bend to the cold cunning in his eyes.

Aelin had been sixteen years old when Arobynn Hamel became the weapons master, and he'd been trying to train her in magic ever since, even though he had no magic and knew nothing about the finicky, delicate art of magical training. He'd seemed content to put the Crown Princess of Terrasen through grueling physical training instead for the last four years.

Until he got too greedy.

Until the whispers started.

Until the Crown Princess unexpectedly became Queen and the whispers broke into shouts.

"It's simply...not budging," Aelin called across the training yard, weariness weighing down her voice.

Arobynn's lip curled in badly veiled disgust. "Disappointing, Aelin. Simply disappointing." Ordinarily, the insult would be enough to push her into a tidal wave of wildfire, but all it did was drop heavily upon her weighted shoulders. "Disappointing." He left, boots clicking against the stone steps.

Aelin let her sword tumble to the ground with a dull clang and made it a few jerky strides before she crumpled to the ground, her back flush against the sun-warmed stone of the far wall. Dark, shadowy clouds obscured the sunlight, and the summer air thickened to bursting, becoming heavy with the coppery scent of a storm.

She didn't have the strength to move.

Fat, lazy raindrops dripped slowly from the sky, plopping against the worn gray stones and sand of the training yard and the sweat-soaked material of Aelin's tunic and pants. She cupped her hands, catching the drops, overpowering grief crashing into her as she remembered her mother teaching her to catch the rain.

You may not have all of the water gift, my Fireheart, but anyone can hold the rain.

The queen tipped her head up to the sky as the rain thickened, its rapid patter splashing onto her face, mingled with the tears that slid down her face like the summer shower. I miss you, Mum. So much.

Eyes closed, the storm soaking through her clothes, Aelin felt the darkness close in on her, battering the wavering shreds of her faith. First the crown, now the wildfire--everything was being ripped from her fragile grasp. Even though it was late summer, even though the rain could barely touch the sand and stones before it soaked into nothing, she felt like the water was creeping up her chest, inexorably pulling her into its dark depths.

She was so...alone.

Unbidden, unprompted, heat rose up through Aelin's cupped hands, tiny sparks dancing around her fingertips. She cracked open her heavy eyes, released half a shuddering breath, and watched as the sparks kindled into tongues of flame, tiny dancing flickers of light and color amid the pouring rain. We are always with you, Fireheart, whispered a pair of voices in the depths of her heart.

The wildfire brightened, dancing higher, stronger, mirroring the hope that the queen grasped ahold of as she tugged herself to her feet, flames wreathing her hands and her brow, and picked up her sword.

She was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.

And she would not be afraid.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@aelinschild

@renxzs

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shylittlefrogg · 2 months

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doing some things of the precure au

#precure #nagisa misumi #Nagisa and Honoka are first. They are also those that represent light and darkness as a harmony that must be maintained #Their magical forms only are. Darkness and light. Nagisa is a living shadow that sees everyone with eyes brighter #than a star and seems to pierce your soul She appears to produce her own light so that she is never mistaken for a simple shadow #Honoka is a bright star with eyes of emptiness that eat your soul #She seems to consume all the light in the room making her the only one that stands out #Fae precure au

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vagueandominousvibes · 1 year

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Hey remember how I’m doing Febuwhump? I’ve now posted the first chapter on Ao3. All the first chapter does is establish the setting (a sort-of sequel to Silent Fog, though it can be read independently too), then I’ll build from that in February and tie the prompts together in a vaguely-coherent narrative.

If you want to read it on Ao3, it’s here!

Since Febuwhump is a Tumblr event, I’ll be posting the chapters here as well, so for anyone who prefers reading on Tumblr, you’ll find ‘Chapter 1: The Well’ down below!

The God in the Well

Chapter 1: The Well

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Blue grumbled, stepping over a rotting log and pushing a branch out of his face. Shadow and Vio were ahead of him, carrying the map and the photos from that stupid Old Norse manuscript Vio had come across in his research, which was the entire reason they were out here in Hylia-knows-where in the first place.

He paused to hold the branch out of Red’s way as Red hopped across the log and flashed him a smile. Blue’s insides warmed. It had been a few months since their Mountain Mishaps at Zelda’s family’s cabin, and they had been some of the best months Blue could remember. (Yes, that included getting to ride on the back of the ATV at one of his mums’ place of work when he was five and she did the feeding rounds. Watching the wolverines had been awesome.)

He released the branch in Green’s face.

“Hey!” Green gave him the stink eye.

Blue grinned, shrugged, and followed Red. “My point still stands,” he said as he caught up and took Red’s hand.“Do we really want to get tangled up in weird shit like this again? We don’t even know if this thing —”

“Mímir,” Vio said.

“— is still out here.”

“It’ll be fine,” Red said soothingly. “We have a map, and we know what we’re walking into.”

“We think we know what we’re walking into.”

Red squeezed his hand.

“You worry too much,” Shadow called back. “It’ll be fun!”

Blue snorted.

“You could stay back if you’d prefer to,” Zelda called from the rear.

“Oh, no, I’m coming along. But I don’t like it.”

“Duly noted,” Vio said.

———

To Blue’s surprise and disappointment, the well described in Vio’s manuscript was still very much there, spotted sunlight and everything. Some of the stones, slowly being reclaimed by the spongy moss, had fallen off, the wooden bucket looked too far gone to be of any use, and the rope had long since rotted away. Birds chirped in the branches.

“Well, well, well.” Shadow grinned. “Would you look at that.”

Vio rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide his fondness. He put the photos away and approached the well.

“Wow, look at these!” Red tugged Blue towards a shaded patch of ghostly white mushrooms under one of the trees edging the clearing. He crouched down, already fishing in his pocket for his glasses, pen, and notebook. “They’re huge! This one’s at least twenty-five centimetres.” He leaned closer to poke the specimen with the butt of the pen. “They’re not supposed to be more than fifteen, give or take a couple.”

Blue knelt next to him. He saw nothing out of the ordinary about the cluster of mushrooms: white caps, curled in along the rim, and a gnarly white stems with rugged white socks. “What kind are they?”

“Destroying angels.”

“What?”

Red peered up over the top of his glasses. They had slipped down to the tip of his nose, and something about it — maybe the way the light caught in the lenses, or the way it made him look older and more experienced, like a golden curly-haired Indiana Jones of mycology, softer, but no less determined. He tried to picture Red in a white shirt, brown tweed waistcoat, and a tie, and yeah, okay, he would have to come up with some excuse to see that in real life.

He met Red’s gaze. Red was staring at him, a bemused smile on his face. Heat crawled into Blue’s face. He looked away. “Sorry, I got, uh …”

“It’s okay.” Red sat back on his heels and pushed the glasses up. “You seemed … distracted.” He grinned and raised an eyebrow.

Blue’s face burned. “You’re distracting.”

Red laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He placed a kiss on Blue’s cheek. “I was just saying that destroying angels are one of the seven deadliest mushrooms known in our country.” He rested his head on Blue’s shoulder and sighed contentedly. “In a regular sized one, a cap is enough to kill someone, though it takes hours to actually hit. I have no idea what something this large would do.” He trailed off. “The cool thing is we don’t have specific antidotes developed for it, either. Sure, we’ve got ways of improving survivability, but that’s about it.”

“Are you bringing a sample back to uni?”

“Nope. Didn’t bring gloves.”

“Damn.”

They drifted off into silence, and for a moment, it was peaceful: just them, the spots of warm sunlight that had found his back, and the overgrown destroying angels. Scenic, really.

Then Green yelped.

Blue turned, one arm instinctively flying up to wrap around Red. Zelda had stepped between Green and Shadow, Vio was staring at Shadow, and Shadow stood in front of the well, reading from one of the photos of Vio’s manuscript. His voice filled the air, sank heavy into the moss, and descended down into the well, as if every word was inevitable. His eyes burned. Smoke spiralled from the edges of the photo. It started to crumple into ash between his fingers.

The air over the well shimmered, as if a source of immense heat had materialised down below. In the shimmer, a balding head appeared. The grey skin sagged, thin and crumpled like tissue paper, around a crooked nose. Teeth, as moss-grown as the rocks of the well, jutted out from the open mouth. The beard protruded from the chin like whiskers, and the eyebrows curled up like horns. Long white hair dripped into the well. Below the neck, there was nothing.

Red made a strangled sound and covered his mouth.

The last ashes of the photo slipped between Shadow’s fingers. The fire in him went out and his eyes rolled back.

“Shadow!” Vio dropped the other photos. Between one breath and the next, he had darted forward and caught Shadow. “Hey, Shadow?”

Shadow slumped silently against Vio’s chest.

“Come on, wake up —”

The floating head exhaled. A long deep sigh, like a cold wind in autumn, rustled the leaves. Branches creaked. The birds had gone quiet.

Blue pulled Red closer to himself.

The floating head opened its eyes. There were no pupils. No irises, either. Where its eyes should have been, were black spheres cracked by time. With each inhale, fire flared in the cracks, like embers goaded back to life. With each exhale, the fire died.

The floating head studied them. “Who,” it croaked, “disturbs Mímir’s sleep?”

———

Chapter 2 >>

#four swords #not tagging the big one yet bc the event has technically not started yet #vio link/shadow link #blue link/red link #green link/zelda #fanfic #old norse myths #angst #hurt/comfort #modern au #uni au #all the characters are present i'm just. not tagging them #shout-out to red for making me google deadly mushrooms in my area #i know i said i wanted to finish the winter fae story before doing this but it was stressing me out #so i'll work on them both at the same time #nothing can go wrong :)#edit: replaced 'TK' with 'tissue paper'!

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sharpedgedfool · 3 months

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I've ended up doing a full character sheet for each of the season's, I'll probably do the fairies grouped up together as they're not as detailed but this was fun!

Some more extensive lore under the cut!

So the seasons are all personified as these four spirits. They're not considered fae they're more like deities, the fae have their own courts separate but they pay respect to the seasons as they pass - Winter is the season with the least amount of fae present as most of the fairies are spring-born and die before winter and reincarnate every spring again, a select few fae stay alive through winter but their court is rather elusive. Winter is rarely seen in person, and so they are quite mysterious. Most of what people and fae alike know of Winter are only rumours passed around - they are often described to be cold, violent and deadly due to the amount of battles waged over wintertime.

Although Winter is necessary for the other seasons to thrive, they are often targeted by people attempting to kill Winter to save loved ones dying of the cold. They take no pleasure in it, but they've became accustomed to fighting those desperate enough to try, sometimes fighting armies off by themselves. Animal-patron-fae see the benefits of these battles first, the predator animals feed off the remains of the fallen and prey animals are less likely to be targeted in turn. Plant-patron-fae see more prey animals feeding off the berries in spring so they at least have a passive understanding of the events.

Those who know Winter, or know them by their name 'Black Ice', know they deeply care for animals, and do their best to not disturb those hiding away in hibernation and often enjoys the company of the more active animals. They often ride their Stag around in the snow, the two of them are almost inseparable. Wolves, crows and foxes tend to follow them around in case they slay someone and they can pick at the scraps, but they've secretly thrown snowballs around for them when they're playing. Winter fae like mistletoe or holly sometimes pay respect and offer gifts, but Winter doesn't partake in their festivities - they feel like they shouldn't celebrate when many are suffering in his presence.

Winter refuses to abandon their duty and takes pride in their role in the lifecycle, they know the importance of their season, but they are constantly in a state of grief witnessing more death than life. They know most of the people waging war against them aren't trying to take over the season's power (Summer is mostly targeted for this reason, as they're considered a 'good' season and people want their power and position) instead the attackers truly believe they're doing a good thing and are just foolish not malicious. Despite sympathising with them, Winter won't give them mercy or let their guard down, lest they do manage to kill them and throw off everything.

If they were to die, it is unlikely anyone would want to take up the mantle of winter due to it's hated reputation, but a cruel person could use winter to do untold damage and kill Autumn or Spring in the process - even Summer might falter if their heart were too cold to be burned. They knew the previous spirit of Winter when they were mortal. They had grown close, but she was fatally wounded in a battle against a grieving lover and she couldn't bring herself to strike back. The lover escaped unscathed, and Black Ice found her dying in the snow. In her final moments they promised to take her place and protect what she could not. They love the winter with all their heart, but they still struggle to see the beauty in the season, they still see her blood in the snow.

Winter is the eldest season of the current four, but holds great respect for all his three peers - he has never met Summer but trusts they are more than capable. He isn't talkative, and is quite clinical. They arrive and leave punctually and without much conversation with the other seasons, unlike the other three who often enjoy each others company for a few days before moving on.

#oriontag #shadow the hedgehog #fae au

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waterspoutskies · 1 year

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AHA. I am back, and with a new offering for the gods of writing and creativity and staring at the blinky cursor demons for hours on end.

We held a Secret Santa! And I drew my beloved @gpow13 to gift to <3 So, here are my efforts, for your enjoyment!

Dancing With My Own Shadow

Shadow is seven when he realizes he is different. But it is normal to be different, as the prince of his people, so his realization is not much of one at all.

He is eleven when he feels something grind, shift, change inside him, deep in his soul. When he is eleven, suddenly that different is no longer a normal thing.

Shadow is fourteen when he vanishes.

I do hope you enjoy! I’m likely going to either continue this or make more works in this messy semi fae AU. I had fun with it!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44648962

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marvelmusing · 6 months

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A Courtship of Shadows

Part Three

Pairing: fae!Aleksander Morozova x fem!reader

Summary: As summer begins, the human court moves to the countryside, and Aleksander accepts several invitations for balls and hunting trips. He finds he cannot escape you, and that perhaps he doesn’t want to.

Warnings: smidge of angst, mentioning the loss of a parent, hints of violence (not explicit)

Part One • Part Two

My Masterlist

“Sire,” Ivan says, caution colouring his tone.

Aleksander can feel the hairs at the nape of his neck prickling at the sensation of unfamiliar magic. The sound of dogs yapping playfully makes his stomach tense.

During his grandfather’s rule, humans bred hounds with the specific intention of hunting down fae. Even now, hundreds of years later, the hounds’ descendants can sniff out the magic in their blood.

There’s a number of those hounds prowling at the heel of their master Lord Rathbone, the heir to Lichen Manor. Aleksander keeps track of them at the corner of his vision, eyeing the man discreetly. He’s one of the more arrogant humans Aleksander has come across during his time in East Ravka. Amongst his hunting friends, he struts like a peacock, shooting snide looks at him and the rest of the fae.

Suddenly, the members of Aleksander’s group all seem to have noticed something in particular. When he turns to investigate, he finds you moving through the gathering of people, head held high, hounds of your own trotting obediently on either side of you.

Bypassing Lord Rathbone, you ascend the stone stairs at the front of the manor, approaching the old man standing in the entrance to the house. Aleksander watches as you talk. From his position, he can only see the man’s expression - not yours. He seems to regard you with a fondness that intrigues Aleksander.

As you turn, you offer your arm to the man, helping him descend the stairs. Each step he takes is measured and your eyes are filled with care and patience as you stand by his side. Aleksander sees your eyes wander through the sea of faces, searching for someone in particular. His lungs stutter when your gaze locks onto his, your expression softening with what looks like relief.

There’s an almost imperceptible tension to your shoulders as you walk by Lord Rathbone’s group, which appears to stiffen further at the sound of their laughter. Aleksander knows the eldest Rathbone son is around the same age as you, though you carry the years far better than him.

Aleksander provides his horse with a gentle pat to her side, stroking down the length of her strong neck as he steps away. He turns, anticipating your arrival in front of him.

“Your highness,” you greet him with a small bow, your arm still locked around your companion’s. “May I present the Duke of Lichen.”

The elderly duke bows respectfully.

“I’m grateful for your presence here today, your highness. It is a pleasure to have you as my guest.”

Aleksander is somewhat surprised by the duke’s manners and the honesty to his words makes him wonder the reasoning behind his gratitude. Nevertheless, Aleksander inclines his head politely, offering both of you a small smile.

“The pleasure is mine, your grace. You have a wonderful estate.”

The man smiles, his eyes crinkling as he nods.

“That I can agree with, your highness. Though I cannot take credit for its beauty. I believe the lady to my right is responsible for managing the grounds.”

Confused, and impressed, Aleksander glances at you for an explanation. The smile you give him is modest.

“Whilst I officially reside at Hawthorne, I have always spent the majority of my summer here at the manor…” The smile slips from your face, a haunted sheen in your eyes as you add quietly, “Until recently.”

As your words falter slightly, the duke’s expression grows somber.

“I’m certain you will have heard my son has returned from Tsibeya.”

Tsibeya is a small region in the north of Ravka, where unruly nobles are exiled so that they can consider their actions, as opposed to being imprisoned. The brief reference to whatever crime or transgression Rathbone had committed seems to make you uncomfortable.

Aleksander sees your thoughts slip away, lost to some memory he cannot guess at - though he suspects Lord Rathbone has some part in it. The duke settles his hand over yours, which appears to rouse you somewhat, drawing you back to the present. The smile you offer the duke is deceptively bright; Aleksander can see the tears burning in your eyes as you blink hurriedly to suppress them.

The duke steps back, bowing once again.

“I wish you both a bountiful hunt.” Aleksander nods slowly in acknowledgement, tilting his head as he watches the duke pat your arm gently. “It’s been good to see you.” His eyes flicker towards Aleksander before he adds, “Your father would be proud of you.”

There’s a small pause and a sad smile twitches at the corner of your mouth.

“Thank you.”

Aleksander stops breathing. He knows you follow the rules of the fae, rarely thanking anyone directly. But in this moment, each syllable is deliberate, a soft gratitude there in regard to the duke. It’s evident that you see him as a paternal figure. Aleksander can only imagine how hard it must have been for you, growing up in the human realm without your father.

The duke squeezes your forearm one final time before he moves away, turning back towards the manor. He doesn’t acknowledge his son, barely casting a glance in his direction. Meanwhile, you bring your attention back to preparations for the hunt.

The Old Ravkan rolls beautifully around your tongue as you issue a firm command, bringing both your horse and dogs to heel on either side of you. Aleksander believes he can trust you, though he still tenses as the hounds tilt their heads at him.

“They won’t hurt you,” you assure him softly. “I promise.”

Aleksander’s lips part in bafflement.

“How?”

The smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth is fond as you look down at the dogs, stooping to scratch behind the ears of each of them.

“My father took them in when they were puppies. As soon as I could crawl, I was climbing into their basket.” There’s a small pause and a wry twist to your lips. “They soon grew accustomed to the scent of fae.”

Aleksander tilts his head, studying your expression as your eyes flicker up to meet his. A determination settles over your features, your chin raised in resolution and one thing is certain - you aren’t hiding your fae-ness anymore. He smiles widely.

The authenticity of his emotions has Genya’s tailoring faltering momentarily and your lips part slightly at the brief glimpse of his true form. His stomach flips when he sees your eyes darken.

He wonders how you would react if you could stare freely at his true form - pale skin, pointed ears and pitch black eyes, his hair threaded with strands of gold amongst his raven locks. He hopes you would find him appealing.

The early morning sunlight warms your face, casting a soft glow over your skin and drawing Aleksander’s attention to the scar on your chin which runs along the length of your jawline on one side. Iron is the only material capable of scarring someone with fae-blood in them and something twists inside him at the thought of you being harmed in such a way.

He wants to hook a finger under your jaw and trace the crooked line of scar tissue there. He wants to ask you what happened. He wants you all to himself, away from prying eyes. The sound of laughter from the group of humans nearby has you stiffening slightly.

“I suspect I was only invited to the hunt today in an attempt at embarrassing you.”

Aleksander frowns.

“Why would I be embarrassed by you?”

“You’ve heard the rumours about us?” He nods slowly, his brows furrowed deeper in confusion even as you elaborate. “They think it’s amusing that people believe you might be interested in me.”

Aleksander hates how the humans perceive you and he longs to provide you with some confidence. But before he can offer you any sort of comfort, he catches the tail end of one of Rathbone’s jests. The halfling and the Darkling. His remark incites more laughter amongst the group and the muscle in Aleksander’s jaw twitches.

“They intend on snubbing you and your party by hunting deer today,” you inform him in a low voice.

He nods, unsurprised.

“I thought they might.”

He ducks his head down, hovering over the crook of your shoulder as you adjust the bridle on your horse.

“Though I believe you’ve misunderstood one of our customs, little blossom.” He turns his head, his lower lip grazing the shell of your ear. “Hunting deer is a privilege, not a crime. Only royal fae are permitted to kill a stag.”

He watches you turn to face him, your eyes widening slightly in realisation, then a determined grin spreads over your features. His heart skips a beat.

“Then let’s find you a stag, your highness.”

»»---------------------►

Aleksander can’t find you.

He tilts his head aside, eyes scouring over the crowd in an attempt at being subtle in his search. When he notices Fedoyr’s grin he huffs out a sigh, turning in the opposite direction to eye the length of the ballroom.

The last time he saw you had been several minutes ago, talking to your mother. He hadn’t seen you leave the party but your mother’s brows are fixed in a disapproving manner as she holds her glass of wine tightly. The longer he looks at her, the more his concern for you grows, creeping beneath his skin like ivy.

Despite this being your family home, from your mother’s behaviour towards you it is evident that you are a guest at this evening’s ball.

Perhaps he should look for you. He slips from the ballroom without a word to anyone.

Aleksander passes the housekeeper in one of the quieter hallways, providing her with a polite tilt of his head as he continues his search for you.

“She will be in her father’s study.”

Aleksander stops, turning back to meet the woman’s eyes directly, examining her.

Despite only having arrived yesterday morning, the servants of your household have been exceptionally kind to him and his entourage. From his perspective, it seems they care about your well-being far better than your mother does.

He nods in gratitude and begins to move towards the stairway.

Aleksander locates your father’s study easily enough, in the room beside the bedchamber he has been occupying during his stay. The thought that he has been using your father’s bedchamber crosses his mind briefly.

He finds you sitting beneath the sturdy oak desk, your face flushed, cheeks stained with tears as you wipe your nose messily. At the sound of the door opening, you turn with widened eyes, brushing your tears away rapidly to hide your state of vulnerability. When you recognise him through your tears, your shoulders sag, losing their tension.

Aleksander closes the door behind him, eyes locked on yours as he moves slowly across the room to stoop down in front of you. He reaches out, his movements considerate as he gives you the opportunity to pull away. Instead, you lean into his touch as he strokes your damp cheek.

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly.

He can see the lie lingering on the tip of your tongue, human instinct urging you to insist that you are fine. He can also see the distress it causes you - the thought of lying to him. Tears well in your eyes again, your breathing shaky as you practically tremble.

“Mother has offered my hand to Lord Rathbone.”

The words are broken and hoarse but they ring painfully in Aleksander’s ears.

“I can’t marry him,” you admit in a whisper. “Our children would have too much fae in them. He would hate them, I know he would. I can’t bear the thought of my children being hated by their father.”

He watches as you fidget with the handkerchief in your lap, nails picking at the thread lining the edge as a few tears escape your eyes.

“His father - the earl - promised my father he would look after me. He’s already informed me that he will refuse whatever dowry she might offer.”

“A rejection like that will ruin your prospects.”

A self-depreciating smile quirks at the corner of your mouth.

“I wouldn’t say there are many suitors looking to court me.”

Human men are fools. Aleksander cannot understand how any of them can resist your sweet charm, quiet humour, and undeniable intelligence. Not to mention you are one of the most beautiful women at court.

He can see the sadness weighing on you and whilst Rathbone’s proposal and the upcoming damage to your reputation is distressing, he believes you’ve handled it well.

“There’s something else,” he says quietly.

Another tear slips down your cheek as you nod.

“I know it sounds childish,” you say, your chin wobbling as your expression crumbles. “But I miss my papa.”

“Oh, petal. Come here.” He slides himself under the desk, pulling you gently against his chest as he hushes you tenderly. “That’s it, just breathe for me.”

He feels you grip onto his kefta, fisting the fabric tight as your body shakes with the force of your tears.

“I can’t imagine how much it must have hurt you to lose him,” he murmurs softly. Aleksander strokes his hand down your back, feeling every dip and notch beneath the pad of his fingertips. “He would have protected you from all this, wouldn’t he?”

Aleksander feels you nod and he tightens his hold on you.

“I think he would have found someone for you from my court.” At that, you perk up, looking at him with hopeful eyes.

“You do?” He smiles down at you, thumb grazing over your jaw.

“Sweet girl, you are too beautiful and good and honest for any human.”

He feels your cheeks warm beneath his fingers.

“I think he would have liked you,” you admit shyly and Aleksander laughs.

“I think he would have told me to stay away from his daughter.”

“Why?”

The inquiry is soft and he lets it hang between you both before he speaks.

“I’m not a good man, petal.”

“If I was yours, would you look after me?”

He goes still at your question, at the thought of you being his. He doesn’t hesitate before responding,

“Until my dying day.”

Fae do not lie. He knows in his soul that if you were his wife he would take care of you. When he feels you lean towards him, eyes lowered to his lips, he holds tightly onto your chin to prevent you from kissing him how he knows you want to.

“I used to wander barefoot through the woods,” you admit with a soft sigh. “Hoping a fae prince would steal me away and marry me under an oak tree.”

He wants to distract you from your pain and from the thought of kissing him. He also, rather selfishly, wants to hear you talk about your dream wedding.

“What would your dress be like?”

“Something soft and flowing, with a long train that would sweep through the dirt and the grass.” He can imagine you in white with mud and grass stains covering the hem of your dress like nature’s hand prints, as if the wilderness wants to be a part of you. “I’d weave flowers through my hair and wear a tiara.”

The corner of his mouth quirks into a smile.

“A tiara?”

He feels your cheeks flush with warmth as you hide your face, giggling quietly as you concede shyly,

“Just a little one. I’d be a princess after all.”

His smile widens. Unable to stop himself, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You would make a beautiful princess.” He pauses briefly. “And a breathtaking queen.”

His words make you duck your head shyly and he can’t resist reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. His knuckle grazes your cheek and he hears you inhale sharply.

Then something on the wall catches his attention.

“You hung the antlers.”

It had taken quite some convincing for you to accept the antlers of the stag Aleksander had killed during your hunting trip. He needed to insist several times that they wouldn’t be considered a gift, meaning you wouldn’t be indebted to him by taking them. He hadn’t expected you to hang them above the mantle in your father’s study, but Aleksander is rather touched by it.

Nodding, you turn to follow his gaze, admiring the polished wooden mount, carved ornately around the edges which frame the curves of bone.

“David helped me mount them.”

“He did?”

At his sudden question, your head turns back to him quickly.

“Yes. I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped-”

He shakes his head with a small smile, smoothing his hands down over your waist.

“Not at all. I’m only surprised that you’ve befriended him. He doesn’t take well to strangers.”

He tilts his head at you, watching as you blink slowly in surprise.

“Oh. I think he’s nice.” Aleksander sees your gaze flicker down to where his hands have settled on your hips, warmth flushing through your body. “He knows a lot about materials.”

“He does. The majority of the furniture in my quarters at the Little Palace were designed and crafted by him.”

Aleksander sees intrigue sparkle in your eyes and he longs to take you to the Little Palace this instant, showing you everything there is to see, hoping that you will fall in love with it all.

“Mother is leaving tonight to visit her friend several towns over. Will you stay while she’s gone?”

“Won’t people talk about you being alone in a house with me?” he asks with a playful smile.

“Stay, please.” Shyly, you begin to play with the embroidery on the sleeve of his kefta. “I want to have lunch with you in my father’s garden.”

Everything he has wanted over the past few months, you are now presenting to him, practically with a sweet little bow wrapped around it. What else can he say, but,

“Of course.”

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

#aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #fae!aleksander morozova #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

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boom-fanfic-a-latta · 1 year

Text

Call Me By My Name (Even Though I Can't Remember)

@shadowzmod Merry Christmas! Here's my Secret Santa fic for you! (Shadow REALLY needs to stop getting himself into Situations...)

{Archive Of Our Own Link}

“Well, this is just great. I’m completely lost.”

With a groan, Shadow plopped to the ground, sitting down on one of the large exposed roots of the trees towering above him. Turning his head, he once again tried to see if he could discern any sign of a way out—to no avail. Nothing but forest as far as the eye could see.

He honestly wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten here to begin with—the most he could recall was maybe the feeling of using Chaos Control, but that was about it. But no matter why he’d ended up here, Shadow was now lost deep in the middle of the woods, with no idea how to get back.

Frustrated, he clenched his fists, letting out a low growl. “This is pathetic,” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth. “I’m the Ultimate Lifeform, and I can’t find my way out of the %$#& woods—”

“Hey, why so glum?”

Shadow’s ears twitched at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, and he immediately sprung to his feet. “Who said that?!” he shouted, looking back and forth to try and find the speaker—but seeing no one.

“Up here, buddy!” the voice called out playfully, coming from above him. He looked up, catching sight of something blue sitting on a high branch in one of the trees.

Since when had that been there?

“Who are you?!” Shadow demanded of the figure, shifting his footing into a fighting stance just in case. In response, they only laughed, before quickly dismounting from the branch and landing with surprising grace on the forest floor in front of him.

They looked to be another hedgehog, now that he could see them more clearly, with bright blue quills and a peach muzzle. They were wearing a dark blue tunic and white tights, brown gloves and boots, and a green riding cloak—an outfit that all around felt more like something from a fantasy story or renaissance fair than something suited to the modern day.

They also had an infuriatingly cocky grin on their face, one that just seemed to be asking for trouble.

“What, no applause?” the stranger quipped, their emerald-green eyes twinkling. “I feel offended.”

Shadow sighed, turning away in annoyance. “I don’t have time for this…” He started walking away, but abruptly felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hold on, buddy, where are you going?” the blue hedgehog asked, somehow having gotten right in his path without him noticing.

Shadow blinked, caught off-guard. “...None of your business,” he eventually replied, shaking himself free of the other’s light grip.

“Well, that’s just rude,” the stranger said with a slight frown. “I was just asking—you look pretty lost.”

“And so what if I am lost?!” He really wasn’t in the mood for this. “Leave me alone, okay?!”

“Woah, calm down!” They backed away slightly, holding up their hands. “Look, I had thought that maybe I could help you, but since you’re being such a grump about it…” They folded their arms, staring at Shadow with what seemed to be disappointment.

“...Wait. Are you saying you know how to get out of here?” Shadow was skeptical.

The stranger grinned. “Oh, believe me, I know this forest like the back of my hand!” They patted the trunk of the closest tree as they said this. “But…with your attitude and all, I’m not sure if I still want to help you—heck, I don’t even know your name!” They paused. ”...Actually, what if we make a deal out of it? If you give me your name, I promise to help you find your way out of here.” They reached out their hand.

…Something about that offer sounded off. But Shadow couldn’t tell what.

But—as much as this stranger was getting on his nerves—if they really did know the way out…and all they wanted in return was to know his name? It didn’t seem like there was much risk to this if it didn’t turn out to be true…

“...Fine.” he relented, taking the other’s outstretched hand. “My name is Shadow. Shadow the Hedgehog.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he was abruptly hit by a wave of intense vertigo, putting him off-balance. He found himself stumbling forward, almost falling over, but the stranger managed to stop him before he hit the ground. They carefully helped him back upright, holding him steady.

“Woah, easy there. Don’t want you to hurt yourself, do we?”

“What…” He put a hand to his forehead, still feeling strangely disoriented and unsure as to why. “What just happened?”

Something felt wrong.

Very wrong.

Like something was suddenly missing.

The stranger chuckled. “Man, has anyone ever told you that you look adorable when you’re confused?”

He tried his best to shake off the last of the dizziness and glared at them. “Will you please just be quiet for once?!”

“Oh, come on, the look on your face was priceless!” They gave his nose a tap. “Honestly, I didn’t expect you to fall for it this easily…”

He froze at this. “...What do you mean, fall for it?” he asked slowly, his eyes narrowing further.

In response, the stranger gave him a smug, mischievous grin. “Well…try telling me your name again. Go on, try it!”

Bewildered, and very much irritated, he frowned. “Why? I already told you, it’s…” His brow furrowed in confusion as he trailed off. “My…my name is…”

He couldn’t remember.

He knew he had a name, he’d said it out loud barely a couple of minutes ago! So why could he suddenly not remember it?!

He could feel his eyes widening in shock at the sudden realization that he didn’t know his own name anymore.

What the hell had happened?!

The stranger had started laughing again. “Oh, you really should see the look on your face, it’s priceless!”

They seemed far too amused by his reaction, almost like…wait.

“You,” he realized, practically snarling at the other. “You did this—what the hell did you do to me?!”

“Oh, nothing much, I just took what you gave me.”

He was at his wit’s end with this stranger’s refusal to give him a straight answer. With anger in his eyes, he took them by the shoulders and slammed them into the tree behind them, pinning them against the bark.

“What do you mean?!” he hissed, outraged.

“Hey, buddy, there’s no need for the hostility,” they said, a bit nervously. “I guess I should give you an actual explanation, huh—you really do seem to have no idea…”

“Explain. Now.”

“Alright, alright—but can you let me go first?” They rolled their eyes. “If I’d known you were gonna get physical over this…”

Reluctantly, he let go, taking a step back and folding his arms. “Well, go on.”

The stranger brushed themself off, adjusting their cloak carefully. “Thank you. Now, you see, what I did was a classic Fae trick—I got you to give me your name.”

“Yes, I know that, you asked what my name was—”

“No,” they cut him off, shaking their head. “I mean, literally, I took your name from you. It’s mine now.” They gave him a sly grin.

“You…you what?!” He blinked, trying to wrap his head around this.

“Man, you’re slow—I told you, I took your name. I’m a Fae. We do things like that.” They winked at him, their eyes—wait a second, were their eyes glowing?!

He shook his head, turning away from the stranger. “No…no, this can’t be real,” he decided. “This is all just—”

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to deny it, buddy,” they laughed. “Trust me, this is very real.”

“But how?!” he retorted, whirling back around to face them. “How can—”

“Shadow, shut up.”

Something in their words seemed to grab hold of him, something familiar, something that should be his. And suddenly, he found that nothing came out as he tried to speak.

Startled, he grabbed at his throat, vainly trying to force any sound out, to no avail.

“Yeah, that’s another thing,” the stranger—the Fae—said with a chuckle. “Because I have your name, I can tell you what to do. Names have power like that.”

He glared at them, folding his arms indignantly.

“...What, I had to get you to believe me somehow—besides, I do still have to uphold my part of our promise.”

His brow furrowed. What promise?

“You know, helping you get out of the woods? In exchange for your name, I promised to show you the way out.”

Oh. That. Right. Honestly, he regretted agreeing to that deal now—how was he supposed to have known the other had meant to literally take away his name?

“...Well?” the Fae asked, looking at him expectantly.

He frowned, tapping his muzzle.

“Oh, right. Forgot about that. You can talk again, Shadow.”

He audibly gasped as whatever power that had been keeping him incapable of speech dissipated in an instant.

“I hate you,” he stated, glowering at the Fae.

“Okay,” they replied smugly, “but do you want to leave the forest or not? Come on, this way.” They grabbed him by the hand, pulling him along before he even had time to react.

“Hey!” he protested, trying to wrench himself free, but the other’s grip didn’t even budge. Sighing, he reluctantly stopped struggling, letting them lead him through the woods. Eventually, the mass of trees thinned out, until the two made it to the edge, where it turned into a grassy field, a familiar city skyline visible in the distance.

“Here we are,” the stranger said with a grin. “Out of the woods.” They turned to him, their green eyes glittering in the sunlight.

“...Thank you, I guess,” he muttered, not meeting their eyes. “Now, about my name—”

He was about to demand that they give him back his name, if that was even possible—but then, the Fae suddenly pulled him close and kissed him on the cheek.

“What the—”

“Meet me back here tonight, Shadow—don’t be late.”

He felt a shudder come over him as the order set in, and instinctively he pushed the other away—only to suddenly fall over as his momentum somehow carried him to the ground. In bewilderment, he looked around, discovering that the Fae had just…vanished, somehow, leaving him alone at the end of the woods.

He lay there in silence for a moment, trying to process what had just happened, before he finally managed to collect himself enough to actually react.

“What the #%?$—”

#shadow the hedgehog #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #mint writes stuff #secret santa #sonadow #sonic is a fae au #honestly I think I probably might do more with this in the future #it was fun to write and I left the ending in a place I can easily pick back up on #fun fact when I initially had the idea for this #my first thought was to have the fae!sonic specifically be Devin (Evil Sonic) from heritageblr #honestly he still ended up acting a little like devin #I also was thinking of writing something about hypernova shadow initially but then I realized I had no idea what to actually WRITE for that #so instead we got Shadow losing his name and also his temper #another fun fact #sonic doesn't lie ONCE in this entire fic #everything he says technically has some truth to it #also once Shadow's name is stolen #the narration no longer refers to him by name #i like fun details like that okay #seriously though hope you like this Shadz #fellas is it gay to steal someone's name and then use it to magically coerce them into coming back to see you again that night

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