#masked chimes au master post

[he1ian]

masked chimes au master post

(by boatem, convex-solos and me)

[convex centric superhero au where everyone other than joe hills suffers, is evil or both]

[disclaimer: this au is divided into 3 acts, as far as act 1 is kept light-hearted, act 2 and 3 bring up dark topics (manipulation, strong violence, death unhealthy relationships, etc.) so if it's not your jam, proceed with caution! or don't proceed at all]

[it also has elements of shipping (cubscar, bigren, biggri, solidaritimes) so, keep that in mind]

[also grian uses she/her. cause why the hell not]

designs (so far):

• jingler & (act 1) jangler

• stress, (act 1) scar, joe

• (act 2) jangler , cub, grian

• bigb, ren, doc

• cleo

• vault busters (iskall & mumbo)

• false, jimmy, pearl

• mother spore

• jingler & jangler (act 3)

• gem / dawnbreaker

• etho

the world is kept in modern times ableit not realistic, some people have hybrid body parts however it doesn't majorly affect their life, they're mostly just design choices

character roles (act 1):

- jingler: cub's persona, an undefeated supervillain, terrorizing the city for fun

- cub: scar's roommate, studied medicine but works retail, tired

- scar: cub's roommate, works at anything as anyone (barbie LOL) hence has money to support both him and cub, childhood best friend of mumbo and grian, extremely full of himself

- grian: a detective working on the case of the jingler, childhood best friend of mumbo and scar, crushes on bigb

- jangler: scar's hero persona, created for the sole purpose of fighting against the jingler, offers his help to grian (who in desperation, accepts)

- ren: in a day to day life he's the owner of the shop cub works at but has knowledge in spy gadgets, gets called for special jobs - currently working in espionage helping grain, has an unofficial thing going on with bigb

- doc: tech guy, met ren when he was tasked to create his prosthetic after an accident in the past, currently working in general tech helping grian, (later creates weapons for jangler to use)

- pearl: grian's boss, should've fired her on probably 5 different occasions

- iskall: villain (retired supervillain), currently focusing on robbery rather than causing chaos and violence

- mumbo: villain, iskall's sidekick, childhood best friend of scar and grian, was NOT made for the role of a villain but is scraping for money (rip), has no interest in harming anyone, he's just in for the cash

(they don't really go by any specific names and are rather seen as a complete duo of vault busters)

- stress: retired supervillain (who worked alongside iskall), currently living a peaceful life as an owner of a flower shop

- bigb: owner of a bakery, has an unofficial thing going on with ren, like the only genuine fan of the jangler

- false&jimmy: sheriffs (as in, police level) assigned the case of vault busters

(jimmy and lizzie are blood related and grian is their adopted sibling)

important events (act 1):

- scar and cub didn't know each other before living together. cub met scar one evening when the latter was going home after one of his many jobs, they briefly talked. scar spiked cub's interest as despite clear signs of a crime committed on his clothes were visible, scar didn't mention them at all. he later found out that scar was looking for a flatmate and offered himself.

- grian is overworked, not even close to revealing the identity nor capturing the jingler, without thinking too much about it she rambles about the case to scar whenever they meet for a friendly chat. that's when scar gets the idea to become the jangler ("someone would have to be insane enough to face jingler in combat") but not really because he cares about the greater good of the city - he sees it as an easy opportunity to get fame. [🟣][🟠]

- jangler would've easily lost to the jingler if it wasn't for the fact cub recognizes his roommate (it's painfully obvious really, he doesn't understand how no one else sees it, cartoon logic) and after some dodging he flees the battlefield leaving scar behind. for the first time, someone has survived a duel with the jingler.

- even though he never actually comes close to harming or even scathing the jingler, grian's new companion sparks fresh hope into her and the future of the case. her and her team of doc and ren start working on more complicated tech and weapons. (the success also makes grian not even consider scar to be the new hero. she greatly undermines his abilities).

- [ending of act 1]

jangler is awaiting the arrival of the jingler when the vault busters stumble upon him. past urges awaken in iskall as he senses a perfect opportunity to fight the only undefeated enemy of the jingler. long story short, they fight, mumbo messes up scar's face on accident (which leaves the left side of his face covered in burn scars), cub arrives and saves scar. [here's a fic of the scene written by our friend!]

character roles (act 2):

[if someone isn't mentioned, their role stays the same][the vibe turns a whole 180° from now on]

- cub: scar's boyfriend with no genuine feelings of love towards him, treats scar as his science project

- scar: cub's partner, borderline obsessed with him, craves all his attention

- jangler: now a supervillain working alongside cub, loves playing with fire

- ren: fucking dead (the jingler kills him 🙏)

- grian: a detective throughout the first half of the act. after jangler leaves and ren dies, the case is in shambles; gets demoted to vault busters' case and false with jimmy take her place

- mother spore: grian's vigilante persona, created after her demotion and finding out the identities of jingler and jangler. decides to take matters in her own hands and forms the resistance

- joe: silly character with massive plot armor [best explained here], film uni student who wants to make a movie about jingler and jangler for their thesis, best friend of cleo

- cleo: film directing student at the same uni as joe, accompanies him in his observations and recordings, admires jingler's ability to unnoticeably lead a performance, best friend of joe

- stress: accidentally gets roped into grian's resistance, reveals her knowledge of heroes and villains

- mumbo: the wettest rag of a character, gets his leg chopped off by the jangler (😢), retires as a villain after that

- iskall: after mumbo gets injured he blames himself for it (it's the second time his companion suffers meanwhile he leaves unscathed) - he turns himself in

- jimmy: now working on the main case, convinced there's a thing between him and scar - scar however uses jimmy's infatuation to gather information that might help him and cub [🟠]

- bigb: ren's death takes a huge toll on him, grian gets closer to him

important events (act 2)

- after the fight with vault busters, cub saves scar and takes him to his hiding spot. he reveals his identity and offers scar to join him instead. cub tells scar how actually weak he is and that people don't consider him great. he also offers that beside him, he will get a taste of real fame.

- scar and cub burn the old outfit of the jangler together. it awakens scar's love for fire meanwhile cub showcases and offers the new suit - revealing his plan has been in the making for a while. [🔵]

"Scar treats being the Jangler as a performance. He doesn’t really treat all the atrocities he commits with the seriousness they should have."

- in the meantime while scar heals, jingler keeps on the down low but isn't restless. during one of his shifts cub messes up and while chatting with ren, mentions information about the latest doings of the jingler only classified people would have access to. he's forced to and murders ren.

- grian is the person to break the news to bigb. they become closer.

- scar makes sure to make his return and reveal a big thing. the jingler calls grian and doc to announce he's holding the jangler hostage. upon arrival, they reveal there's no hostage. scar only craved an audience. after this scene, grian loses the case.

- the jangler takes mumbo's leg just basically as a revenge. lol. he didn't want to kill him but wanted to make him never forget.

- joe becomes one of the victims of jingler and jangler. or better said, was supposed to. the guy doesn't seem to be able to die and after a while the duo becomes so fascinated by him they just let him live. he offers to make a film about them, thinking of them more of as actors than threat. cub out of curiosity and sheer ridiculousness agrees and scar considers what he's doing to be a performance anyways. (joe never finds out their identities though)

- scar and grian end up in an argument over jimmy and cub which results in scar revealing to be the jangler. he promises grian that he will kill her. you can read a fic of this scene here!

- after finding out about mumbo's injury iskall feels incredibly guilty and turns himself in. he's judged only for his present crimes and gets a community work sentence (grian figures out mumbo must've been the other vb member but stays quiet. how she isn't fired is anyone's guess).

- cub and scar go into hiding and grian decides to take matters into her own hands, directly this time. she forms the resistance and mother spore.

[a great fic of one of the fights between mother spore and the jingler and jangler, by vexcraft our beloved]

- [ending of act II]

once again, a big fight, jingler and jangler are against the resistance (yet again)

this time the resistance comes out as victorious and the fight ends in cub getting gravely injured and scar turning himself in, considering it the better option than letting cub die.

act III (general info)

[this part is still a big work in progress so not many things are settled on]

- the main premise is basically that scar and cub end up in jail (losers). cub loses an eye after the fight with grian (both him and scar losing what matters more to each of them - cub utility and scar, appearance).

- scar doesn't cope well with being away from cub and not knowing his state

- false and jimmy interrogate them

- they manage to escape but as i said, it's only a brief outline, no details on when and how yet

[the post will get progressively updated]

[elven-kisses]

HI HELLO I AM SO CURIOUS ABOUT YOUR MASKED CHIMES AU, WHATS IT ABOUT? :OOO

it's actually not my au! here's the link to all the info on it;

[starfata]

Ignore me continuing to embarass myself. I’m sorry this isn’t in reference to any of your recent posts and this has to be really annoying to get out of the blue. I honestly feel like this might be easier to ignore than me commenting on your story.

I had a thought reading through comments from the haunted mansion AU and this poped into my head.

In regards to the hauntings:

During the ball a gonging sound like a grandfather clock begun. With each loud clang reality seemed to shift. One chime and it was as it had been before everyone wearing masks and dressed like something out of a period piece, the next their clothes were tatters dirtied as if they had all been dragged through the mud by horses (or something since their clothes are probably made of magic), then they were replaced by an alternate version of themselves (their ghosts with their cause of death obvious) and everyone can hear Bridgette’s last moments. With each chime their forms change and everyone witness what their past actions did to contribute to the suffering of their friend.

In regards for explaining away to others why there are so many clothes ready (it’s a period location, they have plenty of costumes available for people to wear) see colonial willamsburg (Safiya Nygaard has a YouTube episode titled “I got an 18th century makeover” that is where most of my historical thoughts come from). But you have put in so much research for this you probably know more that I could bring up.

Thank you for keeping Haunted Mansion AU up. It is one of my favorite stories and I love rereading it.

Research is a bit of a strong word- I mean, I know Bridgette's parents wouldn't have been allowed to legally wed, but sometimes you just have to reject reality for the sake of writing fanfiction. Thank you for the recommendation!

And I love that idea for Comeuppance of the Class- but I'm still a long way from writing the finale, so I better not get attached to any one idea. Originally, Marinette was only going to get official confirmation of Felix bring Felix Culpa, Master of the Culpa Mansion, the day before the ball.

And then I got stuck and wanted to get another chapter out.

[kikunai]

https://www.tumblr.com/he1ian/707084052157579264/masked-chimes-au-master-post?source=share here’s a link to a masterpost about the masked chimes au :3

thank you!!!! (also thank you anon who has sent a similar ask)

[pastelsandpining]

ooh for the 300 follower requests, maybe a Corrupted Link au? ive read through your fics, and i loved seeing you post for Whumptober- your writing is really good <33 congrats on the 300 followers!!

hi!! thank you bunches for the request! now this probably isn't what you really wanted at all so if you want more, like, corrupted by the Calamity/Ganon Link, I HIGHLY suggest @obsidiangst's AU here or Calamitous by @embyrinitalics !!!! because both are deliciously angsty and just everything

this on the other hand. well. it's An Idea alright. i hope you enjoy nonetheless!!

a gentle whisper

Masterlist | Small Drabbles

----------

The weight of the Master Sword is heavy in her shaking, frail hands. It’s hard to move. Every step she takes feels like another ten steps back. It feels like there are chains around her ankles and every step forward digs those iron balls deeper and deeper into the muddy ground. She thinks it might just open up and swallow her whole, and she would be alright with that. Her kingdom is nothing. She has nothing but this battered weapon, a show of the gods and their power–and what good is that power when it is dormant and a moment’s away from shattering?

To the Deku Tree, she thinks. I just have to get to the Deku Tree. I have to return the sword for him. He will come, and he will take up the sword again, and Hyrule will be saved.

But the he in question, her hero, the soul that had stood by her side for every lifetime they’d shared, is little more than a still body in a cold cave. That is where he would stay, whether the Shrine of Resurrection worked or not.

The mist that blanketed the Lost Woods would not relent. Not even with the sword that Seals the Darkness in her hands. There’s no chime now, not a sound, not even a sign that it had once spoken to her at all, and it’s this that makes her wonder if maybe Link really was dead. The heartbeat of the sword could not keep time with another that was in an eternal rest.

Zelda wishes the woods were alive. She wishes for the telltale signs of life: the rattle of a bush, the hiss of a snake, even the scream of something inhumane–but all is still and eerily silent. And even then, she feels a set of eyes watching her every move, and she grips the sword tighter. She tries to convince herself she’s alright. That there really is nothing in the trees, and that she is only feeling the remnants of the Calamity’s curse on her kingdom. For a while, it works. She can ignore the feeling.

And then, the whisper of something so close, she swears she can feel it’s breath on the back of her neck,

“Zelda.”

And she knows better. She’s heard tales of what this mist can do, what these woods can do to anyone it deems unwelcome, and she knows that there is nothing that could call for her that was worth looking back. To look back is to acknowledge it, and to acknowledge it would mean she’s already dead. But it repeats, urgent and soft, and she knows that voice. She knows it well; she knows what it sounds like when it’s happy, when it’s sympathetic, when it’s putting on a mask of indifference and neutrality for the sake of the world around them, when it’s trying not to crack under the weight of all the pressure, and she turns around.

There’s a figure in the shadows. It’s nowhere near close enough for her to feel, but it calls out again and she feels something touch her. Goosebumps rise on her skin and she shivers, but the touch is soft and she is weak, and she whispers back to it before she can even think better of it,

“Link?”

He’s there, though a part of her knows it can’t really be him. But he’s there, standing just between the trees, the most relaxed she’s ever seen him. His posture is still that of a rigid statue, a perfect soldier, but the dark circles under his eyes seem faded and when he offers her a smile, she feels her heart shatter in her chest. The tears she thought she’d cried out well up in buckets and she presses a shaking hand to her mouth.

“Zelda,” he repeats, his voice as gentle as she remembers, and he doesn’t say anything else as he holds out a hand to her. She’s shaking too hard to move, but she slowly extends the Master Sword towards him. What else would he be reaching for?

But he tilts his head like a confused pet and she pulls the weapon back to herself with a watery frown. He says her name again, and it hits her what he wants. She reaches her free hand out to him, her fingers shaking so hard they are blurry–or maybe that was just the tears, but she halts just centimeters above him.

“I can’t,” she whispers, raising her eyes to his. “You are– I know what you are.”

He tilts his head the other way, prompting her to continue, but she can’t because she doesn’t know. He looks so real, and her heart wants nothing more than to cry out to him, to curl up in his arms and let the mist swallow them both because Hyrule was long dead anyway, and she can’t bring herself to give in because he isn’t real. But there’s something about him that is, and that’s what scares her most.

“Zelda,” he says, raising his other hand so that both are outstretched towards her. He’s so open and welcoming. The woods are cold and unforgiving and she’s shivering. Or trembling. She shakes her head again, wiping furiously at her eyes, and she stumbles backwards when he takes a step forwards. He looks so sad, so vulnerable and confused, and he says her name again.

He’s a broken record. He hasn’t said anything else. Only her name, over and over, in a soft whisper that was intimate and warm and reserved for her, and she wants to fall apart. She wants to let him bid her into the gentle sleep of eternity that came when the mist got too close. Why? Why is this what her hero had become?

He steps forward again and her foot hits a root, sending her backwards until her hands skid against the ground and mud digs into every crease of her palm and under her nails.

“Please,” she whispers out, and she can’t muster the strength to stand. “Please, I just need to return the sword.”

“Zelda.”

She’s tired of her name. It’s not her name anymore–and yet, when he says it, she can never really deny him.

“Link,” she sobs, and he frowns. He’s still outstretched to her, but he’s not pursuing. Not forcing. A gentle coercion, a soft call from the depths of the magic veiling the woods, and he wants to take her into the mist. He wants to pull her closer until she drowns and she knows this. She knows whatever had happened to the soul of her hero had butchered it until only this remnant remained. And he looks so promising. He looks as if he can give her comfort and happiness and all of those things she’d never known. And to accept that is to accept the mist, to abandon the sword and her kingdom and the gods of old that gave her this boy and then took him away.

“Zelda.”

He looks sad. She doesn’t know if it’s real. If he’s real. He crouches before her, his hands so cold but achingly gentle when they cradle her face, and his eyes are so hollow. He wants to pull her under.

Link or not, she doesn’t have the strength to resist him.

[meantforinfinitesadness]

Interview AU Part Five (5)

the past interview au’s weren’t titled or numbered...whoops. This will also be on ao3! I’m in the process of making it a series because I love it and I want to write more for it so bad lol.

This interview is actually based off a tumblr post by @anotherhawk that you can see right here!

Warning: It’s really long this time. 

The clip starts with General Depa Billaba standing in the creche. She has a small Twi’lek child in her arms. The child has one finger in their mouth loosely and is staring at the holo-recorder unabashedly. Behind them, a Knight runs around the creche being chased by smaller beings. 

High General Depa Billaba

“Oh?” General Billaba raises an eyebrow and exchanges looks with the Twi’lek in her arms. “I wasn’t aware that rumor has made a comeback.” 

Behind them, the Knight loses the fight against the younglings and is tackled to the ground. He’s impossible to see underneath them.

The scene changes and two Jedi stand in front of the holo-recorder this time. 

“This again?” The Korrun Jedi asks dryly.

High General Mace Windu

His eyebrow raises in a manner stunningly similar to the one General Billaba had raised earlier. 

“Hm,” The Kel-Dor Jedi chimes in with his arms crossed and hidden in the voluminous sleeves of his brown robe.

High General Plo Koon

“It is strange that this rumor would come about now.” He muses.

Beside him, General Windu rolls his eyes. “We might as well take advantage of this situation and clear things up.” Next to him, General Koon nods. “For the record,” Windu continues. “The Jedi do not steal children or babies.”

“It is something that most do not understand.” General Koon picks up. “We find Force-sensitive children, and if their parents are willing or want us to, we bring them back to the Temple to be trained.”

“We have never once stolen a child from anyone.” Windu finishes. The hall they’re in is silent for a moment, then General Windu groans. His head falls and he takes a deep breath in before speaking. “Did these rumors have anything to do with a tall Jedi that had long hair?” The silence returns, but the recorder shakes a bit as the crew answers. 

“I see,” General Koon’s mask rises a bit as though he’s smiling under it. “You should speak to Master Kenobi about this.” Koon and Windu share a glance. 

“Obi-Wan will have far more to say, I think.” General Windu adds.

The location switches again. The room is far different from the past locations. This time there are flowers, trees, and an abundance of fountains. The light is far brighter and there’s a sense of calm one could feel even when watching the clip through the holo-screens.

In front of the recorders are a clone with gold paint on his armor and his helmet tucked under his arm, and a ginger-haired Jedi. The Jedi is pale and looks as though he shouldn’t be up and about.

“Oh?” The Jedi blinks tired blue eyes at the recorder. 

High General Obi-Wan Kenobi

“I can’t imagine why-” General Kenobi cuts himself off then smiles. “Ah,” he says softly. “I understand why Masters Windu and Koon would send you here.” He shifts a little and his Commander watches the movement carefully.

“I can only think of one reason for this. It’s true that the Jedi don’t steal children or babies. However,” Kenobi pauses and there’s a glint in his eyes. “We are known for stealing our own back.”

“Sir?” The clone asks with a concerned look in his eye that speaks volumes.

Marshal Commander Cody

“You see,” General Kenobi pauses to cough into his sleeve before blinking rapidly and sneezing. “Goodness,” he says once it ends. 

Commander Cody looks about ready to drag his General to the nearest Healer and not let him out until he’s old and gray.

“Apologies. Where was I?” The General pauses and lifts a hand to brush against his beard as he thinks. This causes his Commander to look even more concerned than before.

“Ah, yes.” Kenobi smiles widely. “You see, years ago there was a Master and Padawan duo. Their missions were mostly negotiations.” Commander Cody squints a bit at that. “Unfortunately,” The General continues without noticing the look being sent his way. “They didn’t always remain as easy or straight forward as either would have liked or been lead to believe.” Kenobi pauses to catch his breath, then continues. “The reason this pertains to the rumor is that the Master had a tendency to, well, lose his Padawan. Because of this, he was constantly stealing his Padawan back. It happened on nearly every mission they were on. So, that’s why the rumor exists.” Kenobi sniffs and rubs his nose lightly. “And, well, the only reason I know so much about it and could tell you stories, is because I was the Padawan.” He finishes with a smile.

The silence that drapes over the small section of the room they’re in is deafening.

“Sir-” the Commander starts, but Kenobi merely turns his smile on his Commander.

“Yes, Cody. This is the exact reason why Mace gave you explicit instructions to keep an eye on me when necessary.” 

The blank stare that the Commander sends his General could kill a man.

“Sir, General Windu thought that every moment was necessary.” He says dryly. 

Kenobi waves a hand at him and turns his attention back to the recorders. 

“Speaking of Master Windu, he could really give you far more information about his. There’s reason to believe that I was the only Padawan to be lost as many times as I was. Mace seems to have the answer to that.”

The scene changes one more time. General Windu is in front of the recorders again, but he’s alone this time. He stares into the lens and says only one word.

“Trauma.”

The screen goes black.

[aliceu]

Fic writer tag !!

Thanks for the tag @whiteprincessofnohr, @sleepylixie and @yyxgin 💞💞

1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?

Stray Kids is actually the first fandom I write for 😂

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?

Well skz obviously :D but with Set the Sails I’ve dabbled for the first time in writing for TXT, and for the next collab I’ll be writing an ATEEZ Yeosang fic !!

3. how long have you been writing?

Uh tricky question. I think since first grade in elementary school? I kinda stopped for 5-6 years though and only got back to it a bit more than a year ago.

4. on which platforms do you post your stories?

Only tumblr! Should you find me somewhere else then that’s definitely not me 😂

5. what is your favorite genre to write?

Fantasy! Romance! Angst! (Not heart-break angst but that murder and intrigues and betrayal kind of angst hahaha) ,,My mind somehow also always produces historical aus but they are quite exhausting to write because of all that needed research

6. are you a pantser or a planner?

About 50/50? I think about the basic direction of the story (the beginning and the end,, or at least a specific scene close to the end) and about the most relevant steps in between. The rest is more or less freely written and I get ideas and inspiration whilst writing!

7. one-shot or multi-chapter?

For reading? Both! Though I especially appreciate the potential for slow and steady character development in multi-chapter fics! For writing? Also both me thinks 😂 I’ve yet to post a story with more than one part but that doesn’t mean that my mind isn’t constantly spitting out ideas that would definitely not fit into only a oneshot. (@sleepylixie remember Three Kings? I still haven’t given up on it hehe so maybe after all those collabs and that one conservatory wip I’ll actually get to it and start posting :D)

8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?

Oof, I’m not picky, really. I’ve read stories with chapter lengths up to 50k so everything, as long as it’s engaging to read!!

9. what is your longest published story?

Definitely Set the Sails (19.8k) !! It exceeded my initial estimate of 3-6k by far !! 😅😂😂

10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?

Very difficult! When Masks Dance maybe because of the dynamics between Minho and reader~ also Set the Sails, I kind of had a brainrot with that one 😂 oh and Fire and Iron too !!

11. favorite request you’ve written and why?

Probably Fire and Iron. It’s really short (meaning: a blurb) but the angst~ the fear~ Minho as scary bastard~~ (thinking about it now, Minho being a scary bastard was definitely my fave part of it all)

12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?

y e s Some kind of pretense or subterfuge or at least things are not as they seem at first/from the outside, eyes as the window to the soul/eyes having seen more than the person’s age would suggest, themes of war, pretty bois, moral ambiguity, equivocal conversations,  ... (I just realised that I have exactly two pieces of writing with only fluff and none at all in planning lol)

13. current number of wips?

I’m only ever actively writing one story at a time (currently the yeosang one) but the number of planned fics (with fairly thought through content) is about 8-9. I have MUCH more ideas however

14. three things you have noticed about your writing?

1) fLowEry language 2) looong sentences 3) fixation on facial expressions

15. a quote you like from a published story?

The man’s voice was languid, like dark honey, smooth and sweet and of a richness that was beguiling, that was full of tender promises and ardent declarations. (When Masks Dance Beneath Palm Trees)

16. a quote from an unpublished story?

The crowd to him was like an open book, a language he had mastered, an instrument he knew exactly how to play to get what he wanted. (Three Kings)

Music had always been a hideaway to you, a novel world full of wondrous adventures, of castles made of chimes, and clefs acting as players. It was a world so grand in its complexity and full of storytelling miracles, a world only visible to those who listened well, who were seeing the blank scores with their heart instead of their mind. Music was a tale that had to be told, a truth that had to be created tune by tune. (Count of Saint Germain fic aka Elixir of Life)

17. space for you to say something to your readers~~

First of all, thank you all so so much!! Without you I wouldn’t be here and posting, so I’m very grateful to you all !! You motivate me to keep on improving my writing and to share new ideas rather than fantasising about them in my mind only 😂 and to those of you who give me feedback or even only a keyboard smash, please know that each and every one of you makes my whole day !! Much much love for you !! 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

Tagging @fizzydrink698 @missskzbiased @lixesque @lavenderbexlatte @popisdead @hhjs @crispy-chan @chaninfused @delicatewerewolfsoul @the7thcrow @luminois @ohmysparkle @mingkii @chanluster and anyone else who wants to do it~~

[k-fiction-therapy]

Into The Night (Version 5 - Hyungwon)

Moodboard by Admin Scar

Starring: Chae Hyungwon & Reader

Includes: Vampire!AU, Night Life & Vague TB References

Rating: 18+

~*.*..*“It was just supposed to be a night out, but this...this was a night in hell--and how beautiful the devil was.”*..*.*~

A/N: Hello, all! This is the fifth installment of “Into the Night”, a series that highlights seven very different Vampire!AU stories, each involving a different member of Monsta X as the main male lead. <3 I hope you enjoy them. I have been obsessed with Vampires since I was a child, and my attraction to them only grows the older I get~ I do hope that my take on these different vampire tropes tickles your fancy as it has mine.

Version 1 - Shownu

Version 2 - Wonho

Version 3 - Minhyuk

Version 4 - Kihyun

Version 5 - Hyungwon

Version 6 - Jooheon

Version 7 - Changkyun

Asks Open for Feedback, Comments, Kudos and Thoughts. <3

             Dust settled in your bones as you unpacked boxes in the living area of your new house, the layout open, making the home look far bigger than it actually was. Eyes traveling over the furnishings, you found yourself with a bittersweet taste in your mouth. You remembered that moving out on your own represented independence and new opportunities, it also shed light on the things that life had ripped from you—the very things that pushed you to move in the first place. In the dust and peeking sun rays that dotted the tops of marked boxes your memories were written; forcing you to take a moment’s pause.

              He had run into the arms of someone else as if he had loved them all his life, crushing your heart beneath his heel. You could have strangled him to death for what he had done to you, but despite the pain he caused you and the knife he put in your back, you still kept his clothes and smelled them while you sobbed as if you were in grief of a wondrous love lost. He was poison, but damn did the apple taste so sweet. He had another heart to mangle, and you were left with no one. You felt utterly alone, and regardless of your best friend telling you that you were a ‘catch’ and that they would help you ‘get back out there’, you still felt the pangs of hopelessness tug on your broken heart.

              Sighing, you dropped down into your floor and leaned against the couch, your legs crisscrossing comfortably. The wind pushed from you, and particles burst from the vintage cushions, the sofa groaning as if it were commiserating with you. You couldn’t allow yourself to wallow. What good did it do? None. What would it heal? Nothing. Perhaps you should take your friend’s advice and get back out there—but where would you go?

              A club had been suggested, only about a half hour train ride from where you lived, but the notion made you laugh. It wasn’t that you were against clubs, it’s just that you weren’t exactly up to the task of being thrust into such a physical environment. Truth be told, you weren’t exactly the club-goer, and when you thought of awkwardly gyrating on the dance floor, you wanted to facepalm. If you were already embarrassed of yourself, how did you expect to manage actually doing it?  

              Your phone chiming broke your concentration, and you quickly picked it up, secretly hoping it was a Snap from your bestie, goading you into attending tonight—but what you got was a social media notification…for him. You had forgotten that you had tapped that bell, that every time he posted, you were going to see it—and there they were, arm in arm, lips close and eyes lovingly focused on one another. You could have crushed your phone, a tear rolling down your cheek. Anger became you, and you quickly unfollowed him, closing your phone before dropping it onto the couch behind you. Forcing air from your nose, you cracked—

“You know what? Fuck it. Let’s go.”

                                                    ***************

              The night was cold, and with you scantily dressed, the warm color of the pink neon was doing nothing to stop the chill of your exposed skin. You walked down the sidewalk towards the blacked-out doors of club ₩onder, your best friend by your side, stumbling a bit as they fixed their makeup in a compact; and you found yourself curious of where they were going to stash it, sure it would leave an odd shape in those spandex hot-pants. Honestly, the thought of it gave you a much-needed laugh.

              Prodding you because you were laughing, they knocked against your arm and smiled wide, locking fingers with you to pull you along, quickly moving into the line. Glancing to the other patrons, you felt immediately out of place. Black leather, lace, and chokers galore, you swore you had stumbled onto the Gothic underground. Honestly, you weren’t dressed badly, but you felt like you should have been warned so that you could have worn black and blended in—no one likes to stick out because they’re one blue smudge in a sea of ash.

              “You should have told me it was a bondage club, I would have dressed the part.” You whispered to your companion, leaning close to them, your ass perked and back arched, catching the attention of the bouncer, who did his part to move the line along.

              “₩onder is not a bondage club, it’s…artistic.” Your friend said, waving a hand.

              “There’s literally someone in a leather puppy mask, and another with a horse tail butt plug.” You gestured towards a few people not far up in the line from where you stood. Honestly, the horse tail had you mesmerized, but you found yourself wondering if they straightened, or brushed it. It looked so soft as it moved, perfectly contrasting the rubber tail of the puppy a few spots further up the line. Said puppy was on all fours, moving their hips back and forth obediently, making their tail wag, as their master gripped a leather leash and gently pet their snout, making cute little sounds pour from their lips. A part of you found it oddly cute, and you might have smiled, but you couldn’t shake the scene.

              “Come on. Keep an open mind!” Your bestie said, swatting at your arm playfully, before winking, “—or would you rather go home to your vibrator?”

              “Hey, don’t bring Kai into this!” You could have put them in a headlock, but someone here might have taken it the wrong way. They just deserved a punch for saying something like that out loud. So embarrassing–you might have been blushing, but your layers of makeup saw to it that it didn’t see the light of day.

              “I can’t believe you named it that.” They rolled their eyes so dramatically that you swore you heart them turn in their head, “You’re so sad.”

              You wrinkled your brows and shook your head, gesturing to the line and towards the club, though the volume of your voice didn’t raise. You didn’t want to call attention to yourself, “You are the one that is looking for love in a place like this—”

              “Oh, I’m not looking for love. Unless it’s thick, and deep…Mmf.” They said, running a hand down their front, giving a half-hearted, trashy body roll. You laughed behind your hand, but they didn’t stop there, moving their ass like a bitch scorned, “You should stop thinking about ‘marriage’ and ‘eternity’, and all that shit. Focus on the here and now.” Their fingers pointed to the ground before they made an obscene gesture, tongue in their cheek, “You need to get laid.”

              “Well, that’s your opinion—” Crossing your arms, you looked away, pretending to scan the place, mostly because you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It wasn’t that you were sensitive about your lack of recent carnal vocation, but rather because you felt like the odd one out for not jumping on the first cock you saw.

              “Mhm. The right one. Fill up your empty hole.” They twitched a finger back and forth, grinning from ear to ear.

              “Why are we friends?” You huffed.

              “Shut up, you love me.”

              The bouncer moved a hand from side to side, gesturing for you both to move forward. He was a tall man, and quite dense in muscle. His shirt was rather tight, and he seemed perpetually flexed, waiting for someone to pick a fight with him. There was a real masculinity that radiated from him that made you feel both safe and terribly insecure at the same time. Checking your IDs, he waved you in, taking a moment to roll his eyes down the line of your spines—and it sent uncomfortable shivers across your bare shoulders as you pushed into the place.

              Pulsing with rhythmic pop and dance music, ₩onder truly looked like an undulating mass of Gothic intrigue, the mass of people making it hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Trying to get into the swing of the place, you wound through people, keeping as close to your friend as you could, heading for the bar. Looking over the drink list, you wrinkled your brows—they were all named after blood types and the like.

              Glancing to your companion, who had already ordered and was smelling their drink curiously, you assumed it was just witty word play, and ordered a “O+ Passion”, which was handed to you in a crystal glass, and was as deep red as the night was black. You sniffed at the rim of the glass, the copper bloom of the liquor filling your nose, making your eyes water. What the hell. Taking a drink, you immediately spit it back into the glass, trying to do so behind your hand so as not to offend anyone, especially the bartender.

              You felt as if the liquid had stained your teeth, so you licked furiously at them, feeling as if a film had been permanently placed atop your canines. What an odd drink. Turning to the dance floor, you glanced up to make sure no one had seen you—and over the crowd, from the front of the room, eyes like pale-blue, lavender ice gripped you, cutting straight to your heart. Plush tiers of rose down, and porcelain skin held your gaze, making you shake where you stood—you were lucky you hadn’t dropped your drink in awe.

              He must have been many meters from you, across the dance floor, but he felt like he was standing right in front of you. Seated in a baroque style throne atop a pedestal, white yet reflecting pink from the lights of the club, he exuded power and dominant sensuality. His legs were as long as you could see, and his arms matched, hands resting delicately, and fingers flexed. He was somehow the most dominantly severe and beautifully soft thing you had ever seen in your entire life. A fire lit within you, and suddenly, you needed to know him at the deepest parts of your soul—to have him fill you with all that he was, and use you as he liked; twist you into a gorgeous pretzel.

                                                     ***************

              On your knees in front of him, like King and peasant, your back arched, chest heaving as it begged for him, his energy having taken you over, as if his power was wrapping around your nerves and guiding them to act. You didn’t know how you got here—you didn’t remember walking to him, and you certainly couldn’t recall kneeling as if he were your king. You didn’t feel in control of your faculties, much less your own limbs, and when your lips peeled open, your primal desires dripped from your tongue.

              “Tell me…why are you here, mortal?” The male didn’t speak, not one word, but his voice was so loud in your mind that it made your ears ring. His eyes never left you, their intent obvious in the shift of color within their spreading iris.

              “I want you to take me…” You said aloud, and no one in the room seemed the wiser. Your friend, lost to the crowd, was bleeding from major pulse points, being fed on by multiple patrons who had ensnared them, their body shaking in orgasmic death, clawing for release on the dance floor, the sound of the music drowning out the sound of their voice.

              “You want to be mine? Hm?” His hand lifted, grazing the long earring in his left ear before trailing down over the layered lace choker he wore, the top a glinting silver that read “Appelle-Moi”, the necklaces beneath it falling down his chest, accentuating perfect skin as it dipped into a low shirt. The veining of his skin was like a sensual road map, and each time your eye caught sight of a new shade of blue, it trembled. Soaked.

               “Take me.” You whimpered, your lips remaining open as if held by strong fingers.

              “Obedient slave, I like that.” He nodded, and smiled, but his lips formed no shape, “…Call me ‘Master Hyungwon’. Say it.” He commanded, his mental tone deeper and quite a bit more even than before. You shook as you remained still, his lips peeling apart slowly, showing long fangs, making you quake with pleasure at just the sight. How had this happened to you? Kneeling and wet, you begged for him.

              “Master…Hyungwon…” You croaked.

              “Mmnn…Good…” He lifted his chin and raised an arm, pointing off towards a velvet covered doorway to the left of where his throne sat, “Go. Through there. Crawl.”

              “Yes, Master Hyungwon.”

                                                  ***************

              Hand fisted in what he could grip of your hair, bare hips forced against your tear-streaked face, your throat taking his cock as deep as it would as he face-fucked you, your nose hitting soft pubic hair with each strike of that thickened head to the depths of your slender esophagus. The glide made your throat bulge visibly, but he only pushed deeper, breathing heavily through his nose, thrusting himself harshly, the welcoming muscles enveloping him, making your eyes roll back in your head and your gag reflex act up.

              Snarling, he kept himself controlled, but his hips jerked back and forth several times vigorously before he pulled from your throat, saliva stringing from your mouth to his girth, the thick of the veined member bobbing in the dense air of the room. Staring down at you, he brought your face forward once more, rubbing the mushroomed, red head against the shape of your lips, swirling the glistening precum against your mouth.

              Your lids fluttered open at the feeling of that cock against your lips, a submissive expression taking you as you stared up at him, opening your mouth slowly, your tongue slipping forward to press to the thick underbelly of that girth, the tip flicking, silently begging for more. Hyungwon licked the expansive curvatures of his lips, bringing the hand that had once been in your hair forward, gently petting over your crown, “…Mm…so hungry…” He finally spoke aloud, though it was no more than a whisper, and as he watched you, his lean abdominal muscles flexed visibly, making you feel weak. Your hands ran down your thighs and you moved your head forward, that thick tip popping into your mouth, and he gave a moment’s pause just to watch you before gripping the back of your skull a second time, slamming his cock into your mouth once more, arching to keep it deep, “A-ahh…suck…harder.”

              You found yourself unable to defy him, even with the painful stretch of your throat nearly taking over your ability to breathe. His hips moving again, he would roll them, starting a slow, hard rhythm, grunting deeply from how you stimulated him. Picking up the pace, he snarled, gripping your hair a second time, this time harder than prior, fucking your throat as if he was a man starved. Your nails dug into your thighs and you tried to keep yourself stable, tears rolling over your cheekbones, the stretch nearly too much.

              “A-ah, I’m close. Yeah, just like that.” He groaned lewdly, his head tipping back and body tensing hard as he chased his orgasm, “Fuck…” Jerking his hips forward a handful more times until he slammed himself deep and stilled, shooting thick, immense, cum into that throat, against your nasal passage and second gag reflex, the white fluid forced from your nose, your throat spasming around his throbbing girth, which pulsed hard against your tongue.

              You closed your eyes tightly until he pulled back, popping free of your lips once more, cum flooding from your bottom lip, dripping from your chin and covering the bottom half of your face. You stared up at him, messy and broken in the most beautiful of ways, used by the vampire for his more carnal needs, you had somehow found yourself feeling far more alive. Staring up at him again, you knew that your pants were soaked from your own arousal, and you wiggled in your spot a bit, whining needily.

              Dropping a hand down, he would tip your chin up, staring at you, his fingers slicking with his own seed, though he kept your face level, staring down at you, “Mm…You listen so well. I’ll keep you around for a while…use you for blood…and sex…” He bit his lip slowly, letting his teeth drag from the plush of his bottom tier, “…you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

              You couldn’t help but nod, the sound of the club outside the curtains still pulsing with music, the other patrons none the wiser that your face had just been fucked senseless. Drowned in his power, you wanted him, and you wouldn’t dare think of leaving his side, or disobeying, so you merely answered, “Yes, Master Hyungwon. I would very much like that.”

              Dropping a hand, he would hook a finger in the choker you wore, pulling you up as if you were leashed. Staring into your eyes, he bore his teeth at you, and you could feel your blood pulse as if it were begging for him to drain you, and in many ways, it was. You knew he could so easily kill you—and one day, he just might. You swallowed hard, your throat moving against the finger that pressed against it. You had never felt more alive than with this undead King, never more full in heart and mind. He hissed through his teeth, hungry for more of you—every inch.

              “Alright…then together we shall become entwined, deep…

              …Into the night.”

Admin Death

[laindir]

[fic] ember dunes

Series: Tales of Zestiria Rating: T Genre: AU. Post-apocalyptic Science Fiction, Cyberpunk/Dieselpunk. Character(s): Sorey, Mikleo, Atakk, Lailah and Rose. Brief mentions of Michael, Muse and Zenrus. Warnings: Descriptions of minor violence (?? I think it’s minor-ish but YMMV), blood and injuries, pseudo-science terminology/technology. Also, slight hurt/comfort feels... kind of. I love to die in pain and feels. Summary:  In which Sorey treads in his mother’s footsteps and ventures out beyond the City Dome, only to stumble upon an injured young woman and her strange companion droid. Prequel one-shot to verdant green. A/N: And... of course, the first fic I share for 2018 is one  with more pain and feels. Of course. Anyway, this was an extremely self-indulgent excuse to write more sci-fi AUs and to experiment/go back to writing more descriptive action scenes set against a backdrop of introspection. Or something, lol. Inspired by many things, but mostly by this track playing on loop.

Fic can also be read on AO3.

The dunes were a burnished bronze, glowing embers under twin suns. Sorey could feel the scorching blaze through the blue-and-white layers of his tunic and cloak, his skin prickling with the heat and sweat. The tinted goggles and mask strapped over his face provided some relief from the harsh weather at least, shielding his eyes from the blinding glare as he gazed ahead.

The Dust storms have not yet begun this morning. He paused midway through his trek up a rise, allowing himself a brief respite to bask in the solitude of the golden landscape, to take in the sight of the horizon before him. Clear weather was a rare enough occurrence—he was more used to the feel of grit and sand lashing across his mask and clothing; to sullen, dreary grey and dusky yellow mist even within the City Dome.

But out here today, despite the relentless heat and the imperceptible glint of Dust all around him—today, the sky was boundless, a splash of brilliant azure, and Sorey felt strangely content.

The thin wisp of clouds above brought with it also a glimmer of memory—a conversation from years before, when he and Mikleo were still children and a weekly terror in the basement lab, much to Uncle Michael’s chagrin and to Aunt Muse’s amusement. Sorey smiled, the memory tempered with both fondness and a touch of embarrassment. Simpler days, remnants of what was and a lingering ache that never truly went away…

 “And that one there—that looks like a Klein bottle, doesn’t it, Mikleo?”

Twelve-year-old Sorey can barely contain his excitement as he peers through the eyepiece of Uncle Michael’s refurbished spyglass. He pushes the contraption closer to Mikleo, nudging his best friend for a better look.  Mikleo crinkles his nose doubtfully at first, but Sorey recognises the spark within those violet eyes; knows that Mikleo is as eager, as curious to see it for himself. He watches with hushed anticipation as Mikleo peeks cautiously through the eyepiece with pursed lips.

Then with a soft, almost begrudging huff—“You do realise it’s impossible for that phenomena to exist in 3D, don’t you?” Sorey frowns, then chuckles, arms crossed over his chest now. His tunic sleeves are still too long for him; only his small fingers are visible at the hems. “Well, yes, but imagine, Mikleo, if you will. Imagine if one end of the cloud dissipates fast enough just as the other end passes through the nexus point—and you’d get a Klein bottle! Don’t limit yourself to spatial constraints!” Mikleo, stubborn as ever, only grins smugly, even as his eyes are aglow with mirth. “And you have your head up in the clouds all the time. Besides, that’s non-Newtonian!”

The ghostly whispers of their shared laughter echoed still through his mind when there came a sudden electronic screech of surprise, followed by a muffled thud. Atakk’s shrill whistles quickly drew Sorey out of his reverie; he scanned the track marks snaking through the sand ahead of him. The droid had trudged along only to tumble off the edge of the slope.

Sorey carefully picked his way down the incline, sliding to a stop beside Atakk. The droid had tipped over its side, its domed head half-buried in the sand.

“It’s all right, I’ve got you now,” Sorey said gently, even as Atakk continued to complain loudly, wheels rolling about uselessly. He pulled the droid back upright with ease, brushing off the sand from its short torso.

A series of clicks and then a disgruntled bleep—

Sorey laughed. “I know you hate sand, yes. I mean, I’m not too fond of it either. It just gets everywhere. And don’t worry, I’ll watch my step around here too.”

He knew better than to be too distracted when venturing out like this—besides the scorching heat and the blanket of toxic Dust in the air, unseen dangers lurked beneath the dunes as well. He paused, the corners of his lips twitched into a smile. Mikleo would no doubt be chiding him as well if he were here now, for dawdling instead of focusing on his routine checks on the moisture harvesters.

“Better hurry with the water rations before the weather turns and a storm comes your way. You know how fast they can hit you.” A digitized voice chimed abruptly from the comlink strapped over his wrist. A moment later, the small blue holo-screen of a young man’s profile was projected out in front of him.

Sorey let out an amused sigh—right on cue, as expected. Always like Mikleo to be reining his attention back to the task at hand. “Since when were you able to make the comlink do that?” he asked, glancing back at the holo-screen. He watched as another beam of light was projected out from the comlink, sweeping across the land before him. “I did some tinkering around and got Atakk’s help to do minor upgrades to all existing communicators.” Mikleo explained through the static as the image on the holo-screen rippled. The glitch only lasted mere seconds however, and his voice and features came in sharp clarity again once the signal stabilized.

“They now have a feature set to run automatically. So it’ll relay information back to the Vault in timed intervals, in case a scout is unable to do so themselves, or in the event of emergencies. It’s always best to be prepared for anything outside of Camlann, after all.”

“And you’d managed to program all that by yourself? That’s pretty awesome!”

“It’s just an added function to better monitor the surroundings,” Mikleo said, his tone modest, but Sorey didn’t miss the look of pride that flitted over his features. “To be honest, it was actually an idea I got from you.”

“Wha—wait, really? ” “Remember that incident with the prickleboar stampede? How they tossed and trampled all over the old hoverbike like it was synth-foam?”

Sorey flinched at the memory, one hand raised to tap at his cheek sheepishly. “Yeaahh… that was, uh, wild. What’s that got to do with our comlinks though?”

“The prickleboars smashed the bike up so badly we couldn’t even get the nav-scanners on its system to work. But remember how you had managed to salvage enough of the parts and attached it to your wrist brace?” Sorey nodded; he recalled how he’d hastily rewired all the components to his old communicator’s power core, then reconfigured it so it could work as a temporary nav-scanner. “This added feature works on the same principle, really,” Mikleo continued. “The comlinks are now all fitted with a scanning chip. So even if the main nav-scan system on the transport gets busted, you would still have a portable backup you can use to gather data that can still be transmitted and further analyzed by the techs back here at the Vault.”

“That definitely sounds handy. Guess I can inspire some really great ideas, too, huh, Mikleo?”

“Hmm. You’re admittedly pretty good when it comes to thinking on your feet—I’ll give you that much.”

Sorey grinned abashedly at the unexpected praise. He would’ve returned a teasing quip or two, but something had already caught Mikleo’s attention; he glanced away, long fingers brushing ash-brown hair back from his brow and securing it with a silver clasp to keep in place as he clicked at several keys before him.

“That said, are you just going to stand there all day, staring up at clouds? I know it’s a fairly good day but we have a schedule to keep.” “I was just appreciating the skyline. I mean, we don’t even get to see real clouds in Camlann anymore. Besides, it’s not like I can’t take in the sights and collect the water rations at the same time.” “Oh?” Mikleo’s voice was light, as though humoured. Even through the signal inference and static on the holo-screen, Sorey could make out the tiny smirk upon his lips. “I wasn’t aware that you’d finally mastered the art of multitasking, so colour me a little surprised.”

“Now you’re just teasing,” Sorey huffed, nose crinkled in mock-annoyance. He ignored Mikleo’s soft chuckle as the holo-screen winked out, and continued through the sand until he reached the sturdier, rocky path he knew would lead him to one of the many solar-powered moisture harvesters built around the edge of the City’s borders.

Setting his pack down on the ground, he pulled out a tool-kit and crouched beside the large, rusting machine before him. He easily popped the small hatch in its side open, flicking the touchscreen to life and keying in the codes to begin a sequence of standard calibration and maintenance checks. As the machine continued running its tests, Sorey straightened up and gave it a quick glance-over: the huge umbrella dish was pointed at the sky, the reflective mirrors glinting a piercing diamond-white, like the unfurled petals of an enormous sunflower hungrily soaking in the sunlight.

Atakk twittered as it wheeled towards the harvester’s collection tank, dragging a metal trolley stacked with empty silicone containers behind it. Sorey hurried to its side, and together with the droid’s help, began to fill the containers up with water from the tank dispensers.

He paid no heed to the faint cry at first, engrossed with his work. Desert skipper-rats were common in the area; he’d seen the rodents chittering and skimming across the sand nearby many times before. But the cry didn’t cease, growing into what was unmistakably a weak noise of pain. Sorey looked at Atakk, who had paused and swivelled its domed head at him as well.

“I’m not sure either,” Sorey replied as the droid beeped a query. “You stay here, Atakk. I’ll go check it out.”

The droid beeped anxiously at the same time as Mikleo’s voice buzzed sharply over the comlink, “Sorey, wait—”

Sorey was already bounding lightly over the path however, searching around for the source of the cry. He heard Mikleo’s grumbles of at least let me scan the area for any feral animals, and would have offered quick apology. But his foot caught on something then, and he was tumbling over the edge of the rocky outcrop into the sandy basin below.

Ow… He winced, rubbing dirt away from his face as he tried to sit up, only to brush his hand against something—something wet and slick. His heart twisted at the bloody sheen across his palm; turning, he saw the limp figure of a young woman sprawled on the ground just beside him. She seemed unconscious, but was groaning in pain, her short red hair plastered over her bruised face. Her clothes were in tatters and she was bleeding from several lacerations all over her arms and legs.

Sorey froze at the sight, a lump in his throat. It wasn’t the woman’s injuries that had unnerved him, but the network of black, spidery lines running steadily from a deep gash in her right calf. Even the skin under her eyes were mottled, tinged with sickly purple.

“Be careful—she’s been infected with Dust…! H-hey, what are you doing?”

Sorey had gestured at Atakk, who wheeled towards him through the sand, dragging his pack behind it with extended metal claw grips.

“We can’t just leave her out here like this, Mikleo. The heat will kill her!”

“Never mind the heat—she’s been infected, Sorey. You know as well as I do what that means.”

“I still have three more antigen vials left.” Sorey replied stubbornly, retrieving the med-kit and a spare gas mask from his pack. He quickly strapped the mask over the woman’s face and then slowly, gingerly, injected two vials of antigen into her left thigh.

“—ilah..?” She murmured, flinching slightly at the touch, eyes still closed.

“We don’t know if this will work…”

Sorey swallowed, but said nothing, studying the woman’s face instead for any signs of distress. For the antigen to be effective, two doses had to be administered within an hour of the infection—he had no idea how long she’d been lying here, injured and exposed to the deadly air.

“And… I hate to say this—because I want her injuries seen to as well—but we don’t know if the Council will even allow her to enter Camlann.” Mikleo’s tone was low, but Sorey knew there was no unkindness there, only concern mixed with unease.

Food and resources had always been scarce in these arid lands, but since the War began in earnest, every Domed City scattered across the Aroundight Flats guarded their rations fiercely. Many did not welcome strangers from beyond their borders, and were especially hostile toward neighbouring cities, the fear of invasion and siege attacks always looming at the back their thoughts, like a rising cloud of stinging gnats. The Council of Camlann would not be so keen to allow the woman through their gates. And yet… Sorey shook his head; he could not find it within himself to leave her in the desert to die.

“I’ll just have to take my chances. If it comes to it, she can have my food rations—I can always hunt while collecting water rations.”

It wasn’t the best of plans, he knew. Sorey steadied himself for Mikleo’s barrage of protests. But his friend only fell silent, ruminating for a long beat. Then finally, a deep sigh—

“In any case, we don’t have much time. You should really get her and yourself out of there now. The creature—hopefully it’s just one?—that had attacked her might still be stalking close by.”

“A-ah, right!” Sorey said; then in a gentler tone, “Thank you, Mikleo.”

With her arms slung over his shoulders, Sorey lifted the woman over his back. He glanced over at the droid. “Atakk, go on ahead to the hoverbike with the rations. I’ll be right with you.”

Atakk chirruped an affirmative, wheeling resolutely back up the path to where Sorey’s hoverbike was parked in the shade of a bare ironwood tree.

Sorey moved as fast as he could, but with the added weight upon his back, it was harder for him to keep his footing through sand and loose soil that easily gave way. He was only a several paces away from the ironwood when he caught sight of movement from the corner of his eyes. He paused his steps cautiously, straining his senses for any hint of a prowling animal.

“Mikleo, are you picking up on any life-forms in the area?”

Before Mikleo could reply through the comlink, there was another flash of movement, to his right this time. Sorey fingered the hilt of the weapon at his belt, ready to snap the laser-blade to life and—

“Oh, my! How daring for a human to be venturing out here all alone!” An electronic, feminine voiced called out from somewhere behind him. The mechanical whine of an overworked engine signalled the approach of another, clunkier transport speeder. The pilot—another woman… no, droid..?—jumped off and landed before Sorey could move away, towering a full head over him. She was a little bit scratched up, much like the speeder, but there was an aura of measured grace in her stance; in her slender white-and-silver build, and in her red headpiece that glinted crown-like under the sun. Her metal fingers were clasped together, as if in concern.

“W-who are you?” Sorey asked warily, balking slightly under her luminous stare.

“You’re an explorer, aren’t you?” the droid said. “I was just wondering, if by any chance—oh! There you are, Rose.”

She pointed behind Sorey, at someone or something he could not see, only to let out a soft gasp. She immediately reached forward to squeeze his shoulder, fussing over the woman slumped over his back. “Oh, no. Dear Rose, what happened…Oh, please be all right! This is all my fault, I shouldn’t have left you—”

“Hey… hey, it’s okay,” Sorey found himself saying, feeling a sense of pity at the droid’s growing distress. “Rose—uh, that’s her name, right? I stumbled upon her just a while ago. She’s pretty beat up, and I’m not sure how long she’s been exposed to Dust, but I’ve given her two doses of antigen as a precaution. That should keep her stable while I get her to the nearest med-centre in Camlann. I could really use more help though, to be honest—my hoverbike isn’t big enough to hold us both and the water rations my city needs for the day.” He smiled gently. “You must be Rose’s… companion droid? May I ask what’s your name?”

The shaken droid tilted her elegant head, searching his face with her glowing teal eyes and then bowed graciously. “My designation code is CES-LAI05, but you may call me Lailah. It was given to me by Rose.”

“Lailah. Right.” Sorey nodded to where Atakk waited by the ironwood, gesturing her to follow him. “I’m Sorey. Come on, you can fill me in on details as we ride. Mikleo says it’s too dangerous to linger here, so—”

An eerie, menacing growl cut through the air then. The ground beneath them trembled, as though a large creature was charging towards them. Sorey felt a jolt of fear and apprehension rippling instinctively in his gut; it seemed the creature had been tracking their scent and had finally found them. He grabbed Lailah’s arm and ran, pulling the companion droid towards his hoverbike.

“Here, take my bike—it goes a lot faster,” he said, strapping Rose in just as Lailah slipped into the seat beside her and powered up the controls. “Get Rose away from here now. The nav system is already programmed to the route back to Camlann!”

Sorey whirled around before Lailah could speak, searching for his own droid. “Come on, Atakk, we need to go!” He leapt into the speeder’s pilot seat, and once he was sure Atakk was strapped in, he gunned the engines to life.

“It looks like a mantis antlion and it’s approaching way too quickly,” Mikleo said over the comlink, his voice tight with worry. “Hurry, Sorey.”

Just as both vehicles rose into the air and began to move, there was another roar—louder, closer this time—and suddenly, a monsterous black insect burst forth from the rise behind them.

Atakk let out a panicked whistle as Sorey banked sharply to the right, avoiding the long grasping claws. It did not seem to notice them however, its line of vision focused on the hoverbike speeding away before it. With a feral screech, the antlion leapt after it.

No! Sorey thought frantically, turning the speeder around to give chase. The antlion was fast and much larger than he had anticipated—four metres of waxy obsidian shell, raptorial claws hooked with serrated edges, and bone-crushing mandibles, it was an apex predator of the dunes. It would easily outrun the hoverbike.

He revved the engines as he approached the insect, and slammed the speeder into its side with as much as force as he could muster, throwing it off its pursuit of the hoverbike. The antlion staggered from the blow, whipping around furiously. Distracted from its initial quarry, it turned its attention now to Sorey, reaching out with those long claws.

Sorey tried to dodge the attack, but the insect lashed forward, claws catching the side of his speeder, the serrated edges grazing through fabric and flesh. His shoulder burning with pain, he heard Atakk’s wail of fear and the indistinct buzz of Mikleo’s voice through the comlink—right before the speeder skidded across the sand and crashed to a stop.

Though half-stunned, Sorey’s fingers were instinctively curled around the hilt of his laser-blade, snapping the weapon to life. The antlion was upon him in seconds and he struggled to keep the insect at bay, slicing away with the flashing orange blade.

But the antlion was driven by hunger and the scent of blood. It lunged forward, claws ripping off Sorey’s gas mask, before it pinned him down with its fearful jaws. The insect tightened its grip around him and Sorey retched, Dust burning through his lungs as he struggled to break free.

Pain flared through his body, but Sorey fought to angle his weapon closer, piercing the bright blade through that weak spot between the joint of the insect’s left limb and thorax. The antlion bellowed at the contact, clamping down harder. There was a grisly crunch, the splintering, snapping of a rib bone or two—Sorey cried out, writhing as he felt the pressure crushing against his chest, his strength fading rapidly.

And then, just as abruptly, the jaws around him went slack. The antlion collapsed to its side, jaws and legs quivering in death. Sorey tried to stand, but the pain was overwhelming, white spots dancing in his vision. The last thing he saw before sinking into darkness was Lailah balanced on the insect’s back, her left arm now transformed into a large saber that she’d driven straight through the antlion’s head, green ooze bubbling down the blade and staining the golden sand. *

Lailah had injected the last vial of antigen into his thigh when he blinked awake, his body already convulsing with pain. Atakk let out a relieved beep, wiggling close beside him.

“Sorey?” Lailah glanced over him anxiously, one hand pressed hard against the gash in his side. Blood was still seeping from his wounds. “Sorey, please, stay with me. You must stay awake.”

He could barely hear her voice over the throbbing in his head and the growing dizziness; over the sharp tightness in his chest. The droids continued to patch him up as best they could, but he knew, with only a single dose of antigen and without a mask, he was already running out of time.

Ignoring the pain and extreme weariness, he struggled to his feet. At his insistence, Lailah continued to ride with Rose in his hoverbike, while he and Atakk took the speeder. They hastened back to Camlann, racing across the dunes as fast the engines allowed. The comlink around his wrist had been smashed in the attack, but thankfully the hoverbike and speeder’s communicators and main nav systems were still functional.

Sorey tightened his grip on the controls, keeping his thoughts focused on reaching the Domed City, and—

Mikleo.

Fatigue was wearing him down rapidly, his limbs heavy like lead. But he struggled to keep his thoughts coherent, tried to speak anyway, his voice raw. “Atakk… can you get us through to the Vault? To Mikleo…?”

Atakk beeped, light flashing over its front panels as it worked diligently. The communicator quickly buzzed to life with the sound of a flustered, but familiar voice: “—rey, do you copy? Sorey, Atakk, please answer me!”

“W-We’re still here, Mikleo…“ Sorey managed, weakly. "We… we managed to get away somehow—” A wince and a painful gasp. “—I lost your comlink. In the attack—sorry.”

“Never mind that. Are you and Atakk all right? I’m tracking your location right now… You should be able reach in Camlann within an hour… Sorey? Sorey!”

It was difficult to focus through the haze of pain—though the bleeding had mostly stopped, his wounds still ached profoundly, his body convulsing harder now from shock. Breathing hurt the most; each ragged gasp he drew was agonizing, like fire surging through his lungs. The Dust infection had taken root within him—already he could feel the onset of nausea, a heavy chill settling deep within his bones.

Atakk’s flurry of replies drew Sorey’s thoughts back from the pain.

“—how badly is he injured, Atakk? Wha—Dust?? Okay… Just… R-Right, keep monitoring them and send me all the updates. I’m informing the med-centre right now to be ready to receive them both…”

Sorey had wanted to reassure Mikleo, that he was still fine, that he was still there. But it took all of his mental effort just to keep awake, his breath short and his vision edging precariously towards the darkness whenever the flashes of pain grew too much. He coughed again, the metallic tang of dust and blood heavy on his tongue.

Feverish, he held on stubbornly, the speeder and hoverbike blazing ahead towards home.

*

Only when Camlann’s gates were sealed shut behind them did the exhaustion finally bear its full weight down upon him. The hoverbike and speeder pulled to a stop before the waiting group of medics, Mikleo already rushing forward. Delirious, Sorey struggled down from the speeder and collapsed into Mikleo’s outstretched arms.

“Sorey!!”

Half-conscious from the pain, Sorey could hardly make out the look of raw anguish over his friend’s face. But he forced himself to reach out anyway, brushing a hand lightly over Mikleo’s cheek, and smiled gently.

“It’s okay, Mikleo… I’m here,” he whispered tiredly, eyes heavy as he leaned into Mikleo’s hold; falling deeper into the darkness. “Please… Help Rose…”

Everything thereafter was muted sensation; a kaleidoscopic rush of sound and movement, of blurred, frantic cacophony. He saw ash-brown streaks, and gleams of radiant violet; a patch of brilliant blue through the clear skylight of the city gates.

Everything was grey; dust and ember flickering, dancing between the void of white and black.

Then, Sorey saw nothing at all.

.

.

.

Seventeen human years isn’t too long—but it feels like he’s aged a lifetime within the last two seasons.

 Three days after the funeral, and Mikleo stands with him now among the wilting plants in Aunt Muse’s old greenhouse. The indigo urn sits empty in a corner, and they are kneeling on the ground, dirt and grass stains streaked upon their clothing.

 Sorey watches as Mikleo places the seeds within the ash, then covers them with handfuls of dark earth. The twinge of grief and loss still burned in his heart, but at least… at least Gramps is at peace now—finding his way back to Michael and Muse, and perhaps even to Selene, his mother, if death is where she had ventured of to all the while.

 At least his family’s whole now, together, while he and Mikleo gaze on, longing, yearning.

 There’s a brush at his hand, and Sorey turns, feeling Mikleo’s fingers gripping his hand tightly, like he’s holding a life-line.

Don’t you dare leave me too, is what Mikleo doesn’t say, but what Sorey hears anyway in the touch. He smiles, eyes red-rimmed, but still verdant and bright in the fading sunlight.

I’m always here, Mikleo—I promise.

—End—

Notes: Some tl;dr information about terminology, AU backstory/lore and the general timeline of events:

-In mathematics, a Klein bottle is an example of an abtract surface.

-Solar-powered moisture harvesters: relatively new(?) technology that can provide renewable energy, water, and heat, especially to remote, off-grid areas or communities.

-This events of this AU takes place in a post-apocalyptic future (think Nausicaa and Ergo Proxy) on a continent once called Greenwood (centuries ago, before the War). The War of the Dying Cities took a heavy toll on both the populace and the environment, rendering many areas inhabitable due to the nuclear fallout. Survivors now live within Domed Cities and rarely venture out due to high levels of radioactivity (called "Dust” in this world) that still lingered in the environment. Certain hardy plants and wildlife have slowly begun to return, but most of the land is still arid and harsh-hence why the continent is now called The Wasteland. The air outside the Domed City is also still too toxic for humans - the level varies depending on the exact area, but left untreated, even exposure to small doses can be detrimental to a person’s health. “Dust infection” is the term used for radioactive poisoning.

-Camlann is built over a deep groundwater (“fossil water”) aquifer that runs through the desert. For centuries the city had relied upon it as their main source of water. However, it was clear from recent studies that the groundwater was not renewable and was depleting at a much faster rate than expected.

- Selene and Muse were part of a research team that estimated the aquifer will dry up within their lifetimes. They had sought to construct other means to gather and store (renewable) water for the citizenry. The moisture harvesters that bordered the city were some of the technology they had invented for such use. The citizens need venture out several times a week to collect the water rations from the harvesters.

- Mikleo and Sorey are Bio-engineering research graduates. Their interest in the study of ecology and mechatronics was, in part, due to Michael, who is a well-known Robotics scientist within the Academy’s research circles and Muse, who worked as a conservationist. Sorey’s mother, Selene, was one of the few who dared brave the safety of the City Dome to explore the endless sand dunes outside. Shortly after giving birth to Sorey, she headed out on a scouting expedition, searching for the famed oases rumored to exist somewhere in the Elysium valleys. She never returned to Camlann.

- When the boys were 16, the Council of Camlann approached Michael to recruit his skills for Project War Machine. However, he refused to co-operate as he’d only wished to apply robotics for the betterment of their people, not to create weaponized droids in the War of the Dying Cities. He and Muse were punished severely for their refusal.

- Gramps became Mikleo and Sorey’s sole guardian after Michael and Muse’s deaths, but he was old and frail. He succumbed to the Dust Plague as well around the time the boys turned 17.

- Sorey’s light-blade was Selene’s first handcrafted weapon. She’d left it with Michael as a keepsake for her son before she left Camlann.

- Sorey and Mikleo are about 19-ish here.

TBH, I didn’t expect to be invested in this AU again (I’m not great at following-ups with my random one-shot AUs…), and I’ve got some ideas I’d like to play and experiment more with… I HAVE SOME HAPPY, CUTE IDEAS FOR THIS IDEA TOO DW LOL. So, there might be more episodic one-shots in this verse.

Thank you for reading! Comments and critique are welcomed for my fics - I’d like to hear what you think, if you’ve enjoyed this so far.

Also also: I’m so sorry, Sorey, for writing this aghsjfdhgsk. But well. You hurt/break the character you love the most LMAO.

[olicitybishop-clairmont]

Motherboards, Mischief, and Magic CH. 7

Hey everyone! In honor of Arrow being back on, I thought I could post an update for one of my multichaps. Here’s the next chapter of my supernatural/Halloween/magic/high school AU. Hope you all like it!

Master List

CH. 1, CH. 2, CH. 3, CH. 4, CH. 5, CH. 6

Enjoy!

Felicity

Standing in front of the mirror in her room, Felicity nervously smoothed down the front of her costume. She had to admit, it looked pretty good on her, especially with her blonde hair down around her shoulders.

However, her costume wasn’t what made her anxious.

For the past day and a half, Felicity had been watching her friends like a hawk, waiting to see if anything would happen to them because of her brownies, and rather than be relieved that nothing had yet happened, her anxiety only seemed to increase.

Felicity turned at the sound of the door opening, seeing her mother poke her head through the door.

“Felicity, the girls are downstairs waiting for you. Are you ready?”

Felicity tried answering her, but her voice caught in her throat. She simply nodded in response. Donna’s face softened in sympathy.

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m sure everything is going to be all right. We don’t even know if you managed to do anything... extra to the brownies. It’s been almost two days and there’s been no sign of odd activity. Maybe there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I don't think so, Mom. Something’s... off... about tonight. I can feel it.”

Donna walked over to Felicity, placing her hands gently on her shoulders and turning her away from the mirror to face her mother.

“Well, I didn’t eat any brownies, and the book is down in the kitchen. I’ll be staying home tonight to hand out candy to the trick-or-treaters. My phone will be with me the entire time, so if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. Okay?”

Taking a deep breath, Felicity nodded. “That actually does make me feel a bit better.”

Donna placed a quick peck on her daughter’s forehead and said with a slightly forced cheeriness, “I’m glad. Now you need to get going or you’ll be late! Those girls won’t wait outside for you forever.”

Felicity gave Donna a somewhat shaky smile squaring her shoulders and reaching to grab her clutch from her nightstand.

“Well, I am off to see the Wizard! I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

“You be safe, sweetie. Okay?”

“Will do, Mom.”

With that, Felicity went outside to meet her friends. Once in the driveway, she laughed at seeing the costumes on Iris and Caitlyn.

Wonder Woman, Batgirl, are the two of you taking a night off from crime-fighting and saving the world to go to a Halloween party?”

Iris laughed and adjusted her crown. “No more than you are taking a trip from Oz, Glinda. You ready to head over to the party?”

“Yup. Got my phone, some cash, my ID... I am good to go. And I call shotgun!”

Caitlyn groaned, “Oh come on! No fair!”

While walking over to the driver’s side, Iris laughingly stated, “Sorry, Cait, those are the rules. She called it.”

With a huff, Caitlyn got into the back seat of the car while Felicity got into the passenger side.

They certainly couldn't be late to the party.

0o0o0

Friday evening, just before 6 pm, Starling City’s Community Center

The town square in front of the Community Center was rapidly filling with people of all ages in costumes of all kinds. The party would officially start at 6 pm, after the clock tower chimed the hour. Then it would be music, dancing, food, contests, and trick-or treating until midnight.

Felicity looked around nervously at the gathering crowd. There were definitely more people attending this party than she originally thought. If anything was going to happen tonight because of her spell, she didn’t know how she was going to spot it and potentially reverse it with so many people around.

Felicity, Iris, Barry, Caitlyn, Ronnie, and Cisco had found a corner where they could stand as a group and watch everyone coming in with their costumes and offer their opinions on who had the best look, even if they were only talking to each other. According to Cisco, who had taken off his Stormtrooper mask to have a drink and a snack, their group was the one to beat in the costume department.

Iris nudged Felicity, subtly pointing in the direction of the entryway. “Look who just showed up.”

Felicity looked over to see the Queen family walking into the courtyard. Moira and Robert looked fantastic as a very lifelike Frankenstein’s Monster and his Bride. Thea looked terrifying next to her parents in a Maleficent costume that looked as if she had gotten it straight from Angelina Jolie. And Oliver...

Felicity giggled quietly as she realized who he was pretending to be in his costume. For some reason, she expected him to go more the superhero route, like Batman or Green Arrow. Although that might not have been the best idea next to his best friend and his new girlfriend, seeing as Tommy and Laurel had come as Green Arrow and Black Canary.

Caitlyn’s statement brought Felicity back to the conversation.

“I gotta say, Oliver makes a pretty good Harry Potter. It looks like he has the scar and the glasses and everything. I wonder if he chose a specific year.”

Felicity silently agreed with Caitlyn. he did make a pretty good fictional wizard.

And he was so rocking those round glasses.

“Quite the coinkydink, don’t you think?” Felicity heard Iris’s coy question.

Frowning in confusion, she turned to look at her friend. “What do you mean?”

“He’s here as a wizard, you’re here as a witch... He’s newly single... You’re not seeing anyone... He has clearly expressed interest from what you told me about that incident in the library...”

Felicity closed her eyes in realization. She hadn’t told her friends about her coffee date!

“First of all, while he is dressed up as a wizard and me as a witch, we are not even in the same fictional universe. Second of all... I guess I didn’t tell you about yesterday?”

“Yesterday? What happened yesterday?”

Caitlyn chimed in. “Oh! Is this about why I saw him walking away from you in the costume shop yesterday?”

Iris looked at Caitlyn in indignation. “Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

“Because Felicity didn’t tell me anything!”

Both girls turned to look at her at the same time, saying, “Spill!” in unison.

Felicity raise an eyebrow at their nosiness. “You two already have boyfriends. Why do you need to know about my love life? Or lack thereof?”

“Nice try changing the subject, Lis. Not gonna work. Now tell us before the announcements start!” Iris said, snatching Felicity’s phone from her hand. “You can’t have this back until you tell us.”

Felicity huffed, crossing her arms. “Fine. If you must know, before Cait got me my costume... Oliver came over to talk to me.”

Both girls looked at her expectantly. “...Aaaand?”

“And... he asked me on a coffee date tomorrow!” Felicity’s excitement at her date briefly overshadowed her anxiety, and for a moment the three girls celebrated quietly at Felicity’s new romantic opportunity.

“See? I knew he liked you. Clearly he just needed to get up the courage to say so,” Iris stated smugly. She handed Felicity’s phone back to her with a flourish.

Rolling her eyes at her friend’s tone, Felicity snuck a peek over at the Queen family.

And saw that Oliver was already sneaking a look at her.

Felicity could feel the color rising in her cheeks at the fact that she was caught, but she didn’t drop his gaze. She saw his smile widen slightly into a smirk, and then he did something that, for a split second, froze her brain.

He winked.

A thrill shot through her, and she bit her bottom lip slightly to keep from grinning widely.

The two of them were still gazing at each other when Felicity felt a nudge in her side and heard a whisper of her name. She looked over to see Caitlyn nodding to the Community Center steps, where a microphone was positioned.

“The announcements are about to start. You can ogle your new boyfriend later,” Caitlyn whispered.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Felicity whisper-shouted, causing a few of the surrounding crowd to look back at her.

“But you want him to be,” she sing-songed back.

“Oh, shut up.”Felicity couldn’t keep the small smile off her face, though, at the thought of being something... more with Oliver.

Saturday could not come soon enough.

Mayor Steele walked up to the microphone and greeted the people in the square.

“Hello, and good evening, everyone,” he said in a hilariously fake Transylvanian accent. He had decided to dress up as Dracula for this years’ Halloween celebration.

Mayor Steele’s greeting made the crowd laugh, but then he dropped the act to speak normally. “Thank you all for coming to the annual Starling Halloween Monster Mash. I hope you are all ready to eat, drink, and be scary! As is tradition, the festivities will begin at 6 pm after the last bell chime from the clock marking the hour. Have a wonderful time tonight everyone, and get home safely!” 

Just a moment after he finished speaking, a loud ring could be heard from up above. The clock tower was marking the 6 pm hour.

The first chime brought cheers that the party was about to start.

The second chime brought another sound.

Cries of surprise. Shock. Fear. Pain.

Another chime.

Felicity watched in horror as more and more people around her doubled over in agony.

Another chime.

The cheers turning into roars and screams. Felicity looked over at her group of friends, seeing them all in some sort of pain. She rushed over to where Caitlyn and Iris were sprawled.

“Oh my god, are you guys okay? Iris? Caitlyn?”

Iris shook her hair out of her eyes and said, “Who is this Iris you speak of? My name is Diana of Themyscira. This is not my home. How did I get here? Do you know?”

“What? Iris, what are you talking about? You’re in Starling. Caitlyn? What about you?”

Another chime.

Caitlyn looked at her like she didn’t recognize her. My name’s not Caitlyn, it’s Batgirl. I have no clue who you’re talking about. Wonder Woman, we need to figure out what the hell happened here and get back to the rest of the League.”

The final chime.

Felicity looked as her two best friends walked away from her as if they didn’t even know her. Their departure brought her eyes to the rest of the people in the town square.

At least, they used to be people.

All around her, chaos was ensuing.

Loud, cruel laughter sounded off from near the entrance of the square. That looked like... Thea. Surrounded by green fire. Felicity watched as her nose morphed into a long snout. As her skin turned dark purple and... scaly. As her fingers transformed into claws. Within just a moment, a massive dragon stood where Thea had once been.

And near the punch bowl, it looked like Mayor Steele was bent over someone and he was... was he actually drinking someone’s blood?

A growl made Felicity look in front of her to see what looked like a humanoid version of a wolf, prowling towards her.

Felicity slowly began to step backward, and the wolf’s eyes latched onto her movement.

Felicity froze.

The wolf pounced.

And was slammed into a nearby wall.

Felicity’s arms, which had raised to futilely shield herself, slowly came down. She looked to her left to see Oliver standing there, his arm outstretched and a furious expression on his face.

Felicity, still in a state of shock, stuttered out, “O-O-Oliver?” She looked at the dazed wolf-like creature and then looked back at Oliver.

“W-What was... How did you do that? I thought that thing was going to eat me!”

She took a step toward him, but paused. Cautious, she asked, “Is it you, Oliver?”

He looked confused by her question. “Felicity, of course it’s me.” He stepped up to her, his warm hands closing gently around her upper arms. “Are you okay?”

“I-I think so. But is sure doesn’t look like anyone else is! I’m pretty sure I just saw Mayor Steele drinking blood, and your sister just turned into a dragon. I have no clue what the hell is going on!”

Oliver was about to respond when he looked over her shoulder and his eyes widened. Yanking on her arms, he pulled her out of the way of an arrow that embedded itself into the wall behind where Felicity had been standing. Moving themselves well out of the way, the two of them watched what looked like... Tommy and Laurel come racing toward them. They watched the two of them jump on someone’s motorcycle that had been parked outside the square and peel off down the road.

Oliver and Felicity looked at each other.

“We definitely need to get out of here.”

“Agreed.”

Oliver took her hand and the two of them ran to his car, dodging townsfolk left and right.

Once in the car, Felicity got her phone out of her bag and immediately called her mom.

She picked up on the first ring.

“Felicity?! Sweetheart, is that you?”

“Mom! Please tell me you’re okay? Are you at the house?”

“Yes, and I’ve barricaded myself in. I had to after I watched little Wally West and Jesse Wells from down the street turn into an alien and a clown.”

“Oh, jeez. Mom, do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“Oh, honey, I think I do. And so do you.”

“What? What is that suppo-” Felicity thought back to their earlier conversation before she left for the party. She gasped, and tears gathered in her eyes as she realized what had happened.

“Oh, mom, this is all my fault! I turned the whole town crazy!”

At that statement, Felicity heard denials from both her mother on the phone and Oliver in the driver’s seat as he was trying to find a route to get away from the town square.

“Honey, you had no idea what you were doing. This is absolutely not your fault.”

“Felicity, I don’t know what happened, but I am absolutely sure that this isn’t your fault. One person can’t turn a whole town into their costumes.”

She looked at him, confused at his statement.

“What you do mean, turned into their costumes?”

Oliver was focused on the road as he made a sharp turn to avoid crashing into what looked like a zombie standing in the middle of the street.

“I mean that when the clock struck 6 pm, everyone... became the characters they were pretending to be. Tommy and Laurel were the Green Arrow and Black Canary. Mayor Steele was drinking blood because he became a vampire. My sister turned into a dragon because she turned into Maleficent.”

“And why Iris and Caitlyn turned into Batgirl and Wonder Woman,” Felicity breathed. It was all starting to make sense.

Donna’s voice on the line brought Felicity back to the phone.

“Felicity, where are you?”

“In a car with Oliver, trying to find a way out of here.”

“Oliver Queen?”

“Yeah, why?”

Silence.

“Both of you need to get to the house, Felicity. Right now.”

She hung up.

Felicity turned to Oliver and urgently said, “Oliver, we need to go to my house. Now.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but then saw the expression on her face.

The car turned down her street.

0o0o0

Oliver and Felicity parked in the driveway and sprinted up to the front door, where Donna was ready and waiting, holding it open. The second they stepped through and into the house, she immediately closed and locked the door behind her.

Before anyone could say anything, Donna drew her daughter in for a crushing hug. Felicity held her mother just as tightly, burying her head in her shoulder. Donna’s hand came up and stroked her hair softly.

“It’s all my fault, mom,” Felicity’s voice, though muffled by shirt fabric, could be heard.

Before Donna could respond, Oliver chimed in. “Felicity, this is not your fault. I have no clue what happened out there earlier, but you are not to blame here.”

“Actually, Oliver, I am.” Felicity pulled out of her mother’s arms and wiped her eyes. “I am the reason that this is happening.”

“Felicity, how could you possibly have done this?”

She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

“Because I can do magic.”

“...What do you mean, magic?”

“I mean I cast a spell. But I didn’t know I was doing it! I was just making brownies from an old recipe book that I found in our attic when I went up there looking for my mom’s old cookbooks and she didn’t even tell me it was actually a spellbook until I got home from the bake sale, and practically the whole town bought a brownie, so now everyone has eaten my weird magic brownies and I have no clue if what’s happening is permanent or how to reverse it and it’s all my fault!”

Felicity took a big gulp of air. She had said all of that in one breath and was ever so slightly light-headed.

“And I’m also wondering why you are not now believing you are The Boy Who Lived, because I know for a fact that I sold you a brownie.”

“I never got to eat it,” Oliver said absently. He was still trying to wrap his mind around everything Felicity had said. “I put it down and Thea ended up eating it as a midnight snack.”

“I know it sounds absolutely crazy,” Felicity sighed, pleading with him to understand. “But it’s true. I can do magic, and I did this.”

Oliver looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time. “You can do magic.”

Felicity nodded cautiously.

A grin slowly grew on his face. Oliver reached for her, taking her into his arms and hugging her tightly.

Felicity slowly placed her hand on his shoulder, not quite hugging him back. “Oliver? Are you okay?”

He pulled back from her, his arms still around her waist. “I am better than okay. I was so worried about how you would react if I ever told you, but it turns out you’re just like me! This is amazing!” He backtracked quickly at the look on Felicity’s face. “I mean, it’s awful, what’s happening with the town and all.”

Felicity wasn’t focused on that. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘like you’?... Are you telling me that you can do magic too?!”

Oliver nodded, his smile fading and wariness creeping in. “My family comes from a long line of magic. My parent both have it, and so does my sister. Tommy and Laurel do as well. In the past, people who find out about us, people who don’t have magic... They tend not to react well. A lot of our ancestors were either burned at the stake or chased out of towns they helped build. So, we keep it a secret.”

Felicity pulled out of his arms and placed her fingers on her temples. All this new information was giving her a headache. “This is a lot to process in the span of a few days.” She turned to her mother, who was being strangely quiet.

“Mom?”

But Donna was looking into the entryway to the kitchen. Oliver and Felicity turned to see what she was looking at.

The spell book was on the table.

It was open.

And glowing.

The three of them stepped closer to see words appearing on the page.

“By the last chime tonight will all fates be sealed

To remain spellbound or true forms revealed

Say it once, say it twice, say it thrice to be sure

Or else all will be lost with never a cure.”

The three of them read it silently, taking the words in.

Felicity was the first to speak.

“What does it mean?”

They all watched as the glow faded from the words, setting them into the page. Donna answered her daughter.

“It means we have only six hours to reverse the spell put on those brownies, or it becomes permanent. Everyone will become their costumes. Forever.”

And there is chapter 7! Crazy, right? As always, let me know what you thought and if you want to be tagged!

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[he1ian]

hello 🤠 what exactly is the masked chimes au and can i read it somewhere 👀

-🦆

why hello there, masked chimes is a convex centric superhero au that uses their jingler and jangler personas to construct evil

you can read a master post about the au right here as well as check the #mcau canon tag on my account for all posts either answering questions about the story or directly referring to it! 😼

(#masked chimes au will refer you to all posts about it)

[he1ian]

So for better (or worse) Masked Chimes Scar and Cub are inseparable from each other? These two are joined together whether they like it or not?

(This AU is so fascinating. I love the mind games Cub plays and how it makes us, the readers, think)

yes! and definitely for the worse >:) there's a huge bit of act 3 that got made that I need to update the master post with but I think events of it will even better highlight that codependency

(ahh thank you so much! :D)

[he1ian]

im so autistic abt the masked chimes au im so asijddf can we get an updated explination kinda of whats going on?

would you ever put together the little snipbit comics in order for easy viewing?

we're so sorry for leaving you hanging for so long but this has inspired the creation of the masked chimes master post and it took me longer than expected...

the comics are linked to specific scenes they're referring to!