#prologue is on ao3

[yeyinde]

PRAIRIE WOLF | masterlist

John tucks his hand over your nape, pulling you into the warm bracket of his neck where his pulse beats steady under your forehead. Firm. Strong. All heat.

"I'll protect you," he rasps, chest rumbling under the swell of your belly. The growl—brassbound, ferric: a promise and a threat—glues to his words. Sinking deep. "Both of you, Coyote. Always."

And despite everything that tries to convince you otherwise, you believe him.

[OR: in an attempt to run from your abusive ex, you find yourself crashing into the arms of John Price, a man determined to keep you, and your unborn baby, safe. at all costs. but you're not the only one with secrets or scars.]

18+. past abuse (emotional, physical, mental). sexual trauma. unplanned pregnancy. childhood abuse. healing. eventual smut. protective John Price. gruff lumberjack Price and the stray he picks up. eventual Dom!Price (more in essence than act). divorced!John Price. implied child death (not reader's baby). age gap. grief. cultural differences. set in the early 90s. nonlinear narrative. Reader has an unconventional nickname (plot-important). Reader has a backstory. tags will be added as the series progresses.

AO3. MOODBOARD.

prologue part one | hinterland part two | moose meat part three | mîscacâkanis part four | salt cure part five | teeth and claws part six | pack epilogue

[scarapanna]

Calm before the storm [Wavering Lies!AU]

After having faced the first half of his sentence, Shadow Milk Cookie reflects on what transpired days prior. Alone with only himself, his confinements, and his thoughts.

This, unfortunately for the beast, is not bound to last for long.

clank…clank…clank

Absentmindedly, the captive beast would play around with his restraints, letting the chains keeping his wrists close to one another clash together repeatedly.

It had been a few days after his capture, he still recalled everything. The fight, the unfair odds against him, the sheer luck those crumbs had been blessed with…and his embarassing defeat.

What happened after? A good chunk of it, he didn't recall. He was down for who knows how long before waking back up in a cell similiar to the one he was currently held in.

The past week? Went by quickly, in all honesty. He remembered his multiple attempts to break out during those council meetings, back when he still had all of his power…

…back when that MAT hadn't convinced everyone to forcefully snatch it away from him.

Now? He had been sentenced to a seal. No, not like that rotten old tree..but somehow just as, if not WORSE that it. Thanks to it, he couldn't accest his power, he couldn't shapeshift NOR summor anything. He couldn't access his other-realm anymore…he just

couldn't

do

ANYTHING.

He HATED it.

The beast would look at his hands, then at his wrists..before violently yanking his whole body forward in frustration.

His magic was like a part of him, something he had since his baking. It felt just as important as lifepowder to a beast, it was part of him. A component now crudely ripped out of his dough.

Without it he felt severely impaired. So…weak. Frail. Defenseless..

He never wanted this, it was the worst kind of dreadful….

HE HATED IT

He'd yerk forward once more, at full force…but to no avail. To ensure his stay, those rotten pests had put him in chains. CHAINS! Around his legs, his neck, his wrists…the last he dreaded he most, considering those restraints served two functions.

That of keeping him here AND prohibiting his access to magic.

He felt like he was some sort of cakehound.

However, before he could thrash a third time in frustration, the beast would be alerted by some chattering outside of his cell door. At this hour? How strange…

The noise seemingly came from two or three cookies conversating…one voice was freakishly familiar.

it was HIM..

"Oh no no, I'd rather be alone this time. Thank you for the offer."

Soon, he'd hear two of the figures leave, signaled by faint footsteps growing farther and farther..

..next, someone would turn the key to his cell door, which would would creak open, bringing with it that dreaded confirmation.

He stiffened, narrowing his eyes at the figure.

That THIEF.

..___________________..

"..Shadow Milk Cookie."

The beast would look up, stiffing his posture at the one before him.

"What do you want?"

He'd bark out, irritated. Pure Vanilla knew the reason why.

"I just wanted to pay you a visit."

The ancient carefully closed the door behind him, snuffing out the noise coming from the outside all over again.

"How are you faring?"

No response.

"..hm, I see."

He'd walk closer, before searching for something inside his cape. Pure Vanilla would then find what he had been looking for after a small struggle, and would pull out something from a small pouch.

The sweet, easily recognizable smell would manage to catch his predecessor's attention. That frown remained…yet his eyes quickly locked on the unexpected "gift".

A small victory for the healer.

"I've brought some jellies with me, would you like any?"

Holding one of his hands out, he'd offer a few to the cookie of deceit…He might have been hungry, he figured.

He only recieved a glare.

"…I suppose not."

The healer would retreat his hand, putting back those few jellies in that pouch.

Tension was only rising the more they stayed inside, just the two of them.

Usually, Shadow Milk was notorious for his chatter. It was an aspect Pure Vanilla's been told about many, many times during the week he'd spent imprisoned in the republic. Outside of council meetings the jester's behaviour would have been reported many, many times as well. Mostly by guards venting out their frustrations with him.

Now, the atmosphere was much much different. Both had fallen silent for a good while until the ancient decided to resume their one sided "discussion"

is there an--"

"Shut up."

Though it seemed Shadow Milk wanted to hear none of it.

"…just answer my question, and scram. I don't want to be interrogated by the likes of you."

The beast bared his teeth, his words oozing pure hatred and venom from each and every letter.

With his magic gone, Pure Vanilla figured anyone wold be upset. But this had to be done to ensure everyone was safe. He didn't want to risk the lives of many by letting a beast loose.

He'd sigh, turning to the ground.

"Well….I was wondering if you'd reconsider my proposal."

No response.

He'd turn to Shadow Milk's face, returning his stare.

"Do you still want to keep this incessant fighting…or would you rather settle this once and for all?"

The beast looked at him, then at his souljam, and then back to the ancient. His eyes widening as he'd repeat his words.

"….once and for all..

you…

…YOU!!!--"

After a beat of silence, Shadow Milk sent him glare. And thightly clenched his fists. Shaking in sheer fury, he'd start stomping his feet to the ground, immediately rejecting his successor's offer…just like he'd done many times prior.

"HOW DARE YOU!!"

He'd spat, violently yanking the chains holding him in place.

"DO YOU REALLY THINK I'D ACCEPT YOUR PATHETIC TRICKS? YOU…YOU TOOK MY EVERYTHING! My other-realm, MY SOULJAM!"

Pure Vanilla frowned, retreating his hand..but not faltering in front of the beast.

Deep down, he doubted Shadow Milk really regretted any of his actions. That was certain. The way he boasted and congratulated himself for his victories, how prideful it made him..deception never really left this cookie, but meaning surely did. This scene before him was…sad, dare he say even pitiful.

However, it wasn't his turn to talk just yet.

That cookie of deceit, depowered and weak, had only paused to catch his breath. In fact, he still had the energy for more crude, unfiltered jabs at his successor.

He grit his teeth, glaring at the ancient in fury.

"And still..you weren't done tormenting me, oh no no no.. You still stole the last bit of freedom I had left! All that was ME ..my POWER, MY STRENGHT!! YOU.. YOU FRAUD!!!"

The sound of his furious yelling and clattering bindings would echo around the room, yet still failed to convey the full extent of the ex-virtue's thrashing. With all of his might, he'd push himself forward twice, as if trying to yank his body right in Pure Vanilla's direction. If he wasn't binded, he'd probably lunge at him.

Pure Vanilla didn't waver, and waited as the beast tried again and again to free himself. To somehow break those chains and get back his seized freedom.

The healer observed as he gradually started to tire out, his wild yanks growing weaker and weaker…until he nearly fell over, fatigued. With his head hanging low, that cookie would tremble and pant in exhaustion. The concept of not having that revoked power, the power to break free with little to no difficulty still appeared alien to the beast. Even from an outsider perspective.

"Once I get it back….you'll wish to have crumbled in my spire."

Despite everything, Shadow Milk still kept stubborn. He forced his head up, to look back at the ancient.

"Mark.

My.

WORDS."

Right after that one final threat, he'd collapse to his knees. In silence, he only kept trembling and breathing heavily. Clearly impaired by the lack of remaining energy to yell at his successor.

The ancient's gaze would soften.

"Stop overexerting yourself, Shadow Milk. You're tired. You'll risk hurting yourself that way."

Without hesitance, Pure Vanilla would step towards the restrained beast. The space between the two of them growing smaller.

He'd glance at him, with a glimpse of sympathy in his eyes..before shaking his head to finally speak the truth. His truth.

"I'm not trying to force you into a friendship, Shadow Milk. We still have our…differences. For the time being, I believe it wouldn't work out. We both, for our own reasons, are not yet ready…. but-"

He'd look away, facing the entrance to that cell. It felt much, much more distant than when he first entered…but he wouldn't care. He was here for a reason, and that reason was to try and talk. To fully understand what caused Shadow Milk's fall. To fully understand why he was so…lost compared to when he'd last seen him.

Just what transpired after he left?

"-- if we could stop this…constant back and forth, even just for a short while then.."

He'd take another step, closing the large gap between them just a little more.

Turning around, Pure Vanilla placed one hand on the bottom of his souljam's brooch. His gaze directed towards the item for a moment…before going back to the chained beast.

"…I could show you a better way. I want to show you a better way. A way that doesn't give short-term glee and satisfaction, or a short-lived escape…but true, long-term fulfillment."

He opened his eyes.

"This is why, back in that spire, I've offered you my friendship."

He'd take another step. Determined.

"We don't have to fight forever, we don't have to clash against eachother. War, revenge…it doesn't bring true happyness."

The beast didn't respond. He didn't, in fact, even try to look at him. And only kept facing the ground troughout his entire speech. His expression? Unreadable..

..until he'd crack a smile..

"…he…ha ha…. hahahaha.. "

Before Pure Vanilla was able to question him, he'd be interrupted by a burst of laughter.

".. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!! YOU HYPOCRITE!"

Shadow Milk would lift his head back up, still on his knees, and now with the word amusement plastered on his face. He'd keep giggling uncontrollably, driven to the point of tears by the sheer hilarity of what he'd just heard.

As he'd recollect himself, the jester would manage to wipe a tear with one of his restrained hands. A newfound grin plastered on his face.

"Do you really think anyone would believe you? If revenge brings "nothing but emptiness" …then I wouldn't even BE here! In fact, I wasn't even doing anything wrong!"

Pure Vanilla would narrow his eyes and shake his head. No, he didn't share the same sentiment.

"You've still harmed cookies, and that brings consequences. Even with understanding, those actions aren't justified."

The ancient spoke from his heart..yet the beast didn't seem to care, as per usual.

His smile dropped a little, and he'd glare at the healer.

If anything, all he seemed interested in doing was wearing down his will. And so, he'd make another attempt to do just that.

"Deep down, I know what you are. I can tell how much fear my mere presence instills in you, it is glaringly obvious! I bet you even have.. GASP n-n-n-n-nightmares? Oh you poor, poor thing. Otherwise, why would you sentence me to this?..Justice? Safety? HA! How utterly HILARIOUS."

He'd only keep going, just as his target kept not giving him the reaction he wanted.

"This idea of friendship you have is merely a ploy to get what you want, selfishness masked as selflessness…easy-peasy! Out of everyone, do you really expect me to fall for that? pfft.. HA HA HA HA HA!!

…You truthly are pathetic."

Afterwards, the room would fall in complete and utter silence once more. Both parties stared at eachother, undoubtedly, with no victory or loss. If anything, they'd reached not a conclusion..but rather a stalemate.

Pure Vanilla took the next move.

"…very well then."

Shadow Milk would jerk back, confused.

"what?"

He'd move backwards a bit, giving the weakened beast some space before taking on a more formal demeanor.

"I'm here to tell you something else. Other cookies refused to come…so I've volunteered to do so instead."

He'd move a hand on his mouth, clearing his throat before continuing.

"Tomorrow, you will be allowed outside…that is, without magic and under supervision, to ensure no one is hurt. These are the terms decided by the council."

Having informed that cookie, his duty was done, and Pure Vanilla would turn to start walking back towards the cell door. He'd gently open it, a soft creaking echoing trough the room.

Before leaving, he looked back at Shadow Milk for one last time.

"..if you want to change your mind one day, my offer still stands."

He recieved only a scoff...and a possible warning in response.

"Tch, you're just being delusional."

Of course, he'd expect the beast to still refuse his proposal. It was, arguably, predictable…but he woudn't give up just yet.

He gave him one small smile before closing the door behind him.

"..goodnight."

[miaxwrites]

There Are No Winners With Revenge

000 | Sonic the Hedgehog x OC x Shadow the Hedgehog

┌───────────┐

THERE ARE NO WINNERS WITH REVENGE "the action of harming someone in return for a wrong suffered at their hands"

└───────────┘

“Would you like to hear a story,” Cyril, a village elder, wondered to the snow leopard cub who raced to keep up with him, reaching a hand out to her so she could latch onto it. Instead of receiving a verbal response, Cyril was met with eyes wide and full of wonder. “Of a warrior named Sa’tari?”

A soft gasp escaped the small leopard’s lips as she came to a sudden stop, dragging Cyril back with her. An amused smile began to tug at his lips as he turned to stare down at the cub, excitement and confusion flickering across her face. “But that’s my name?”

“That’s right,” Cyril agreed, bemused at the cub’s reaction before he was bending at the knee to scoop her up into his arms and continue their short walk to the edge of the village. Sa’tari put up no fight, too stunned to do so as she waited for him to continue the story. “You, my little Sa’tari, will be this village’s last hope when the time comes.”

“Does that mean I’m going to be a warrior like Papa?” Sa’tari whispered as if the idea of it was too good to be true.

“Of course, it does,” Cyril said as they finally broke away from the village and wandered on a trail through the snow and thick forest-covered mountains, continuing until they reached what seemed to be an old, overgrown temple. “But that’s many, long years away.” 

“But I want to be a warrior now,” Sa’tari whined, one of her paws digging into Cyril’s shoulder as her claws made contact, the cub not yet used to controlling the pointed weapons.

“Patience, child,” Cyril warned with a chuckle, used to seeing such enthusiasm. His words didn’t do anything to quam Sa’tari’s excitement though, not as she rocked out of his hold and raced towards the temple, as if crashing through its walls would make her the warrior she was destined to be. A sombre expression passed over his features as he watched her go. “Let’s not rush the inevitable.”

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Master List || Prev || Next || Can Also Read Here

[guesswhoisofftheirmedsagain]

Me: ahaha ima write a spicy TimKon one shot fic hehe

Me, two months later with 10k words written, not a single ‘spicy’ scene in sight:

I even wrote an r/relationship_advice post for it from Kon’s pov. He is very alien, and doesn’t understand human courting rituals. It’s also a Lords AU so he’s lowkey evil (in the eyes of humans at least.) He plays it off as being “cultural differences” which technically isn’t that far off.

[electrozeistyking]

some goofy lil transparent images of the design I use for N, featuring his design from the Ghost Drone AU (he is tired). These are for future references and things where I just need to casually put one in the corner of something

[awardenandacrow]

So, ah… I’ve done a thing.

I hope y’all enjoy ;)

[niemensch]

A love letter to fan fiction

He was sick of them sometimes - published works. Of their carefully edited words.

Marketed, and branded, corrected and reviewed. Polished, over and over, ground on the morsel of society’s expectations and conventions, until they lost all surface for him to grip onto. Turned into a glazed, smooth wall of marble and stone that his hands would only dirty, could not hold onto.

Words – empty, full, beautiful, ugly – none of their texture remaining, not even their empty spaces; nothing left for him to feel.

They left him stranded, drowning on dry land, no space for him to be.

- Perfect words, beautiful universes, completed lives. What was there left for him to cling onto here? What breath could he take in the space between that hadn’t already been drawn?

Words that were too nice to dirty with his presence, the cursed skin of his body, the foul air of his breaths taken. They were shining, gleaming things - polished enough for his tired, drawn face to reflect back to him, for him to meet the hatred in eyes directed at their own self.

He needed less. More.

Broken words, imperfect stories.

Something one hair breadth’s away from completion, so he could exhale in the spaces left as if they were built for him.

Needed mistakes, boring, normal words, ugly and beautiful, the flawed truths of them.

Alternatively, my thoughts about what made Shen Yuan read PIDW

[seeyouonabluemoon]

So I fell into the TMA fandom. Oops.

I mean, I've listened to the whole thing through before, but never really engaged.

Having said that, my experience has gone like this thus far:

Tim: *appears*

Me: ah yes, the fan favourite

Gerry: *appears*

Me: ah yes, the fan favourite

Michael: *appears*

Me: ah yes, the fan favourite

Agnes or Oliver or any of the Vast avatars: *appears*

Me: ah yes, the

[nozoroomie]

Chapter 1 of Her Heart of Gold is up! Perhaps I'll get this up on tumblr before the Gelphie Ao3 blog does?

[just-b-wilde]

New fan ficition: No Way in Hell

Summary:

After the death of The Handler, Lila tries to start anew but soon finds herself in chaos again when she encounters the Hargreeves family again. Her decision to collaborate with Five pulls her back into the dangerous world she tried to escape. Five, confused about what to do with his life as he returns to his timeline without the threat of another apocalypse, decides to go to the Commission. He wants to obtain what was promised to him while seeking revenge for the wrongs inflicted by the Commission. As tension builds between him and Lila, things take an unexpected turn, leaving them both on thin ice between the desire for freedom and unresolved emotions.

Important notes:

The story follows most of the events from the first and second seasons of the series, while later seasons are not applicable to this narrative.

Main Differences from Canon:

Five is older in the story than in the series and is younger due to different circumstances (this will be explored further in the plot); at the beginning of the story, he is physically 17 years old. Lila's age remains the same, and in the story, she is 29 years old. There will also be different events regarding his recruitment into the Commission.

Lila and Diego did not have a relationship, nor did they sleep together. Lila is not pregnant in the story. However, Diego's interest in her is valid.

There is no threat of another apocalypse in the story, and the Hargreeves family has returned to their original timeline unchanged. There are also no characters from the Sparrow Academy. Each family member returns to their original complicated and chaotic lives.

This story will have a darker tone; I am not sure how focused it will be on explicit content, but you can definitely expect to encounter Five's obsessive and manipulative behavior. 😈

[waytooinvested]

Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 1

Still reeling from finding out the truth herself, Lena suddenly finds herself in the midst of an odd role reversal in which she knows that Kara is Supergirl, but Kara no longer has any idea she has ever been more than an ordinary human.

And what’s more, Lena has no choice but to keep the truth from her for her own protection…

This and previous chapters also on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex: Have you seen Kara?

Lena glanced at her phone and raised an eyebrow at the text lighting up her screen.

That woman had such a nerve.

She ignored the message and turned back to her computer, only to have another text ping in five minutes later.

Alex: Seriously Lena, she was due back hours ago and I haven’t heard anything. I need to know where she is.

Lena huffed irritably, but gave in.

Lena: I have no idea where she is. Kara and I are no longer friends, remember? I’m sure she’ll turn up in her own time.

Lena: We both know she can look after herself.

Alex didn’t respond again, so naturally Lena assumed that Kara had indeed turned up in her own time, and that everything had been fine after all.

That is, until she saw the headline in the news a week later:

SUPERGIRL MISSING?

She almost didn’t click the link.

Since she had found out the truth about Kara three months ago, Lena had done her best to comprehensively uproot the weed of their friendship from her life, and so far had been reasonably successful.

She had deleted Kara’s number from her phone before she had even made it back to her jet after her run in with Lex.

On the flight home she had called her assistant and asked her to make sure that Kara Danvers was escorted off the premises immediately should she show up at L-Corp, and had left a similar message with the security staff in her apartment complex.

Selling Catco had taken a little longer, but only because dealing with such a large asset could not be rushed. She might have been in pain, but Lena was a shrewd business woman and ensured that the sale was made with a hefty profit, the value of the company boosted by the revenue generation improvements she had made while in charge. She had also wanted to take her time to pick the perfect boss for Kara: someone who would inarguably make the magazine more profitable as a business than it had ever been before, while systematically and comprehensively destroying everything about it that had made Kara love her job there.

The new three year contracts with a non-compete clause thrown in had been a nice touch.

She could have taken her revenge further than that – had even planned exactly how she would do it.

The night of Kara’s Pulitzer prize. A damning speech about truth and lies, followed by Andrea Rojas leading the exposure of Supergirl’s secret identity to the world. Betrayal returned like for like, and Kara left as broken hearted as Lena had been.

Oh yes, she could have done it. Luthors were scorpions, and Lena knew how to sting.

But something had held her back from taking the final plunge that would have ripped safety and anonymity so irrevocably from Kara’s life. She wanted to believe it was her own compassion – an innate goodness that led her towards the moral high ground and made her fundamentally better than the Luthors she had so often sought to distance herself from, but it wasn’t true.

The reason she hadn’t done it was Lex.

Maybe if she had managed to pull the trigger last time they met, if she had murdered her own brother in cold blood for the sake of her traitorous false-friend, maybe then she would have done it. If Lex was dead and buried and out of her life for good, Lena could finally have stepped out of his shadow and stopped framing every decision she made against what he would have done. But Lex was still out there somewhere, laying low for now but undoubtedly still scheming, killing, making the worst decisions a human being could make while still being labelled as such, and that made a difference.

Revealing Supergirl’s identity to the world was a plan that Lex would have wanted her to carry out.

And so Lena hadn’t.

That had been enough at first, but as the weeks passed and the first fire of her rage cooled from white hot inferno to mere black smith’s forge fire, she found she was glad that she hadn’t taken the nuclear option. Kara might have deserved retribution for what she had done, but exposing her identity would put everyone she knew, including the entirety of the Catco staff and her unsuspecting apartment neighbours in serious danger from every human and alien criminal out there with a weapon and a score to settle, and Lena wanted no more innocent blood on her hands than had already been passed down to her as part of her dubious Luthor inheritance.

And she didn’t want Kara to die.

That didn’t mean she cared if Supergirl really had gone AWOL. She had had nothing to do with it, and it was none of her concern anymore...

Lena clicked the link.

According to this site, Supergirl had been observed flying off to the north of National City on an ‘unknown errand’ eight days previously and had not been seen since, leaving two major bank robberies, a fire at a children’s hospital and a collapsed ceiling at a swimming pool without support from ‘everyone’s favourite hometown hero’.

Eight days. That tallied with how long it had been since Alex had asked if she knew where Kara was, allowing for the full day that had passed before the DEO Director had made the decision to reach out to her. It struck Lena now that it was an odd thing for her to have done under normal circumstances. She might not have done anything to Alex specifically during the first fierce storm of her separation from their little group – at least not beyond a few short, sharp words and a door slammed in her face – but Alex had taken Lena’s swift and total removal of Kara from her life if anything even worse than Kara herself had, and had been round to yell at her over hurting Kara’s poor little feelings before the end of the first week.

She must have been desperate to have reached out to Lena like that after all this time.

Now she was looking for them, Lena found that there were dozens of similar stories popping up, ranging from serious think pieces about what this could mean for National City and Supergirl’s own welfare, to tabloid trash that suggested she might be having some sort of torrid three way affair with a sexually promiscuous alien couple from Saturn (why Saturn? Unclear. What was clear was that the entire story was utter garbage apart from one essential point: Supergirl was nowhere to be found).

Lena picked up her phone and tapped in Kara’s number, her chest tight with unease as she waited for the call to connect.

Of course she knew Kara’s number by heart. If she hadn’t she would never have been able to make herself delete it from her contacts.

It rang.

Maybe Kara was carrying a big stack of files and didn’t have a hand free to get her phone out of her back pocket.

And rang.

Maybe she was in the shower and didn’t want to rush out to answer the phone while wet and covered in shampoo.

And-

‘Hi this is Kara! I can’t get to the phone right now, but please leave me a message and I’ll get back-’

Maybe she was just screening Lena’s call. After everything that had happened between them it was what most people would have done, and Lena would understand that.

She hung up and redialled.

‘Hi this is Kara! I can’t-’

Kara would never have ignored a second call from Lena. No matter how angry she was, if she could pick up the phone, she would have done so by now.

Again.

‘Hi this is-’

She tried Alex instead.

This time, the phone was picked up before the end of the first ring.

‘Do you have Kara?’

A stone thudded into the pit of Lena’s stomach.

‘She really is missing then?’

‘Fuck. Yes she’s missing. You didn’t even know?’

‘Not until I saw it on the news just now. When I didn’t hear anything more from you after that last text I assumed she’d made it back safely’.

‘No, you had just answered my question and clearly didn’t want to help, so-’

‘Yes well, I thought she had just taken a detour to France for crepes or something, not that she was actually gone’.

‘Right, and you were so concerned you waited a week to check’.

‘Much as it may surprise you to learn this Alex, I don’t make a habit of keeping tabs on people who have betrayed me. So if you don’t want my help finding Supergirl I’ll just-’

‘No, Lena, wait. Look, I’m sorry okay? I’m just worried about her. If I send you the co-ordinates for her last known location do you think you could see if you can find anything? She went after this weird energy signature we’d picked up, but then her radio went dark and we couldn’t get anything else from her. We went out there to see if she was in some kind of trouble, but the place she was headed: it’s just a field. There’s nothing there, not even a trace of the energy we got before, and no sign of a struggle or any kind of indication of where she went next’.

‘Send me what you have and I’ll see what I can do’.

‘Sending it now’.

Less than a minute later Alex’s email arrived with the relevant details about Supergirl’s last known location attached, as well as everything they knew about the energy signature she had been investigating.

It wasn’t a whole lot to go on, except-

There was something vaguely familiar about the signature. It reminded her of…

Lex.

It reminded her of Lex, and the trap he had once devised to lure in a certain type of pseudo-photosynthesetic alien who fed on a very particular wavelength of light that wasn’t naturally produced by Earth’s yellow sun. Once it was absorbed the aliens could be hooked up to a generator that would produce massive amounts of electricity and could have made fossil fuels all but redundant overnight. In theory. In practise however Lex had never been able to make the conversion work, and had eventually given up on the plan.

So why was it showing up again now? And what did it have to do with Kara’s disappearance? It seemed far too much of a coincidence to imagine that the two things were unconnected, especially when Lex was the common thread.

Quickly, Lena skimmed through her options, and picked one she could adapt to this new purpose. The DEO had been scanning for days with no luck, but she had one thing they didn’t.

She knew her brother.

It took another two hours to fine tune the software and upload it to a satellite with scanning capabilities, but at last it was ready. She cast a wide net, centred on the location Alex had given her but stretching out from it to search a 30 mile radius. If it really was Lex then the place he had lured Supergirl was a decoy, and would be located well away from wherever he actually wanted her to end up.

She had to extend her search parameters twice, but at last she found it. Not the same energy signature – that would be too obvious. No, what Lena had been looking for was the special coded frequency that Lex had developed in his teens. To most people it would look like background radio noise, but Lena knew better.

It was him alright.

She reached for her phone to call Alex, then hesitated. All she had actually done was locate her brother, or at least somewhere he was broadcasting from. But the site was more than 80 miles from where Kara had last been seen, and Lena was working on a hunch rather than any kind of real evidence that Lex had taken her.

Besides, if the DEO got him they would just send him back to jail, and it had become abundantly clear that a maximum security cell was not enough to contain him.

No, Lena was going to have to do this herself. She would find Lex, and if he really had kidnapped Kara, she would finish what she had started the night he revealed the truth about Supergirl.

She was going to kill him.

[sweet-old-hereafter]

So I said I was gonna write a nomae hunger games AU as a joke but I don’t think it’s a joke anymore-

From what remains of Caesar’s civilization hails the Kingdom of Pacifica, comprising twelve Clans and the Coastal City as its Capital.

Noa is a young ape longing for purpose and honor. Mae is an Echo that has had to scrounge for survival longer than not. The two live on opposite sides of Mining Clan; Noa in the tree manor with his family, and Mae beside the Mouth of the mines, where she and other Echoes are forced to do dangerous work by ape Overseers. Noa has held a secret in the distance between them for years; Mae can speak. And Echoes that can speak are forbidden.

This past further complicates when they are both to face the Primus Game, an annual fight to the death on the Coast that functions as atonement for a transgression neither was witness to.

In the crucible of these Games, Noa may discover his true self and be forced to betray it. Mae will have to grapple with what it means to be human, if that truly is the standard of worthiness she believes it to be, and the unsettling ambiguity that comes with hope. Their bond may serve as a microcosm of the relationship between apes and humans, posing one question: If we can die side by side, can’t we live?

This Primus Game will be unlike any other before it.

[inusmasha]

Mountain Miko on A03

Summary:

In a secluded mountain village run by a society of mysterious women, Kagome, a young initiate, embarks on a transformative journey under the mentorship of their highly esteemed miko, Kikyo

Prologue – A Dark Fairytale 

In the beginning, within a realm where ancient magic held sway, there once lived a man renowned for his ability to weave spells that brought good fortune to those willing to pay. His performances were nothing short of captivating spectacles, drawing in many who gasped in the grandeur of his rituals. Over time, growing more and more powerful by the day, his glittering magical displays began to draw in the curiosity of wealthy patrons far and wide. 

"How do you do it?"

"You need only to give voice to what you desire." 

Over the years the man turned sorcerer grew proud and prouder still, having forgotten what humble beginnings he crawled out of. He wore his wealth on his body, he adorned his beard with sickly sweet smelling oils and lined his fingers with ostentatious rings. In the era of spell making, the Sorcerer had made this life by his own hand...a hand in possession of a certain Jewel. A small nothing looking bead that was easy to miss even though it hung in plain sight. It's presence barely felt, barely a whisper, only a quiet gnawing at the bottom of his being. 

In the dark night, the heavy shadow of some blackguard, from some dying noble house, made its way to the Sorcerer with big news. A big problem that required a big idea. This truly fair and noble family was harboring a plot to unseat the current emperor and had come to him for help to remedy the issue. 

"What you ask is treason."

"What I ask is to entertain possibilities."

Truth be told; if they had the coin then it did not matter what the request was. He would entertain their hypocrisies. They can keep their dull innocence, keep their hands clean, while he did the unseemly. Though it was dangerous to play with this sort of magic, it's practically what it was there for. 

"What say you, Sorcerer?" 

...it has to be you.. only you could do it.. wish maker ..wishmaker.. wish-

A sinister alliance was forged that night, and he sought to orchestrate their rise to power through sinister rites. 

 His displays of enchantment evolved into bloody ceremonies with costly offerings, ranging from the most humble of creatures to majestic beasts. First a sparrow, a snake, a cat, a wolf to lions, tigers, and- it wasn't enough! To ensure their success, the sorcerer needed more potent sources of power, and he turned to darker methods. He began raiding graveyards for human bones, believing that spirits of the deceased would grant him greater strength. However, he soon realized that live human sacrifices to the Jewel would yield even stronger results. 

Of course! 

Yes, there was a war. 

There was an empty seat in an empty dank room. 

Once the new emperor assumed that cold throne for his own, he called for the Sorcerer to come join him at his royal court and to squat on the lap of luxury. That's what those savage acts were for.. but that damn cursed gnawing hunger never left. It wasn't enough. 

And then...Their paths crossed that fateful evening when he was summoned to perform before their Lord. This was it! Oh! His journey had led him to the fair maiden with black silk for hair. The Sorcerer's infatuation with the woman was relentless, an unquenchable burning within him. Her every word, her every glance, fueled this insatiable longing. He wanted her as his bride. 

But alas she did not want him for her heart belonged to-

It did not matter. He would take her.

In his desperation to possess her he believed that the Jewel, his divine potent resource, could make her love him. The Jewel, fatter still, fed on his fixation. He hated her. He loved her. He hated her. He loved her. The Jewel had never tasted something so sickly sweet. 

"You need only to give voice to what you desire." 

He wished for the woman.

In a final, frenzied act, he sought to give the Jewel a tangible form, giving it arms and legs in which to carry out the deed. Not as some caricature but as something living, with blood and bones. 

"..This flesh is your flesh, these hands your hands!"

At the altar, with great suffering, he relinquished what little was left of his human to the bloody pearl. This was the deep dark material in which miracles sprang forth. He would conjure heaven.. but in the morning there was nothing but the cold dank air, and ash. The fate of both he and the now missing maiden was shrouded in mystery. The ending to this story is always the same.

Now, the Jewel, revered and closely guarded, rests within the new emperor's grasp. It's true nature forgotten. Though the emperor may hold suspicions about the Sorcerer's demise, he chose to remain oblivious of the perils. The relic remained concealed, subject to constant study that often exacted a grim toll and a long list of names never to be spoken of. The Jewel passes from one ruler to the next, as an heirloom of both great power and who's hunger continues to shape the endless road of petty human conflict. 

And we exist in its consequence.   

Many generations pass and eventually the one named Midoriko is born.

[vvyvernicus]

The Fractured Thread

Prologue Release!

Summary:

A girl wakes up in Twisted Wonderland with amnesia—but her head is filled with bizarre knowledge about everything except her own life. Surrounded by the teenage variants of infamous villains, she must rely on her wits and wariness to survive in a school where trust is a dangerous gamble.

This edition promises a less optimistic and cynical version of Yuu.

There's only one chapter out now, but I'm really excited to share this with whoever wants to come along for the ride!

Link below ⬇️

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61976638/chapters/158484160

More on this AU can be found on my profile by searching "The Fractured Thread".

Some additional notes I want to share here that are better off said in print instead of just in the Tumblr tags:

🕸️ Yuu is kind of an asshole.

🕸️ There will be romance, but it's not the main focus of this fic.

🕸️ Warning for those with arachnophobia in later chapters.

🕸️ Many, many references to all things related to Disney and lore far removed from the world of Twisted Wonderland.

🕸️ Expect chapters to be an average of 5k or longer.

[notes-in-the-margins]

👀👀👀

[rat-spit-village]

servant of mythal

When Solas rescues a young Felassan from Falon’Din’s brutality, he tries, and fails, to protect him from becoming embroiled in the machinations of Elvhenan’s masters. As the line between devotion and bondage becomes so blurred, he searches for a way to free his friend, and in-so-doing, finds a way to free himself.

an ancient arlathan solythal fic that explores the period after the war with the titans and the events that lead solas to begin his rebellion

rating: M tags: prequel, toxic relationship, power imbalance, family dynamics link to ao3