#urban fantasy type au
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#dead on main#jason todd x danny fenton#jason todd#danny fenton#dc x dp#Ghost Selkie au#urban fantasy type au#Danny is midwestern so I’m leaning towards flannel#what do y’all think
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tell me why i've done more worldbuilding for my freaking silly little fmb paranormal investigators au than i have for most of the original world
#urban fantasy is SO MUCH EASIER to worldbuild than making a whole new system from the ground up#tell me why im inventing types of ghosts and how they connect to the dead losing their humantiy#and inventing a whole industry built on the fact that ghosts cant be killed thats shook by a pair of dodgy hunters that figure out how to#and capitalise off peoples fear then go around killing eeverything remotely supernatural whether theyre innocent or not#and then the fdb swear to not be like them and go around offering supernatural beings a second chance rather than immediately killing them#thats the basic idea but ive got so much lore for how ghosts work#if anyone asks i will immediately go off on a tangent about it so try me#please ask#eli doesnt write sometimes#fmb paranormal au#<- new tag for this
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hi, stay! read ki's series' chapter here! ✦
note: this is not suitable for minors, mdni!
𝕴: 𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖚𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖊
Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader, Jeong(Jung) Jaehyun x Reader (Fem/AFAB/Curvy/Plus sized)
Genre: Smut (eventual), Angst, Supernatural Romance, Urban Fantasy
AU: Supernatural AU, Vampire Au, Werewolf AU, Witch AU
Word count: 3408 [Reading time: 14 Minutes ]
Networks: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society
Synopsis: Discouraged after a breakup and eviction. You return home to New Orleans just to find out the life you have been living has been a lie. Maybe all those scary stories your grandmother told you as a child were indeed true.
CHAPTER INDEX
You slumped in your seat, confidence blown to smithereens after hearing all the wonderful things Chris had done over the last year. What have you achieved besides homelessness, manlessness, and joblessness? The ‘I got nothing going on in my life trifecta.’ “I- uh…” You paused, trying to think of some way to embellish your shortcomings into something that sounded somewhat interesting. But it seemed your mind was packed up in one of the boxes in your backseat. “Honestly?”
A.N: Please reblog and leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Special thanks to @palindrome969 and @therhythmafterthesummer for reading over this for me. I could never thank you enough. Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids or NCT. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.
Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. This chapter contains use of explicit language.
If anyone asked you how life was going, you in turn would have to reply, “Fuck my life! This is complete and utter bullshit.” The large eviction notice sitting on your apartment door in bright red letters, set your face aflame for many reasons. One; Embarrassment. Two; Disbelief. Three; Now you were fucking homeless. The only evidence of your two years of living here was scattered amongst trash in the hallway. A few of your nosier neighbors stood outside their doors to watch the dismantling of your life (and quite possibly your mental health) unfold in the sweltering heat of the swampy Louisiana summer. “Fuck, where the hell do I go..” You asked yourself under your breath. Being homeless was not on this year's bingo card.
Sweat trickled down your neck, a bead slowly making its way down the center of your back. Your nerves were frazzled. You pat your pocket for a cigarette, just to be reminded that you didn’t have any, it was just an old habit you couldn’t shake. You heaved a heavy sigh and picked up what was left of your life -a few boxes of clothes and the picture of you and your mother and did the walk of shame down the long open corridor. Aside from the other two boxes you needed to get, this would be one of the last times you’d get to walk this oh so familiar hall. But maybe it would be a good thing that you didn’t live here anymore. So many of the memories here were shared between you and your ex here. so. Maybe you could escape the constant reminders of what used to be.
Some of the neighbors that peeked out the doors gave you sympathetic smiles but one woman hid her child's face from you so that they wouldn’t know what failure looked like, at least that's what you felt like to you. The lady you regarded as your apartment grandma, just shook her head as she tsked at you and that hurt almost as much as being put out of the place you called your home. The walk to your old beat up car felt like the longest mile. This must be what it feels like to be given the death penalty. Doom. Dred.
This was an actual existential crisis. Where did you go from here? What do you do? What other choices do you have but to travel back to the place you thought you’d long left behind? That was your dilemma now. The box weighed heavy in your arms, making it feel as if you were trudging through sludge on the way to your car; or that could have just been your shoes actually melting against the blacktop. Who knows?
You could certainly feel the heat from the asphalt through the hole in your five dollar, bargain bin, walmart sandals as you put the lone box on the roof of your hatchback. Sighing, you traced your fingers over the dented roof of your rust colored 1982 ford fiesta. Life has been kicking your ass these last few months. First, you went through the biggest breakup of your life. Two years of wasted time, spent with a man who did nothing but lie, cheat, gaslight, and isolate you from the people you loved the most. He was a dick and you were better off without him, all but financially. You depended on his half of the rent, because the cost of living, even in this piss poor, podunk town with a population just over five-thousand, was astronomically high. Even living here in a motel turned into an apartment, if you could even call it that, was out of your budget by almost six hundred dollars. You fucking shared a kitchen with all the other apartments, for some fucking reason there was no elevator, and yet rent couldn’t be reasonable?
Second, you'd lost your job. According to your boss, two flat tires wasn't an excuse not to get to work on time. You barely made it through the door before he promptly fired you and sent you on your way. You scooped ice cream. It wasn’t like you were doing life saving surgery or nurturing the young minds of the future. There was no need to fire the best employee they had, just because you couldn’t get there on time. You had a spotless attendance record other than that. For fucks sake! You’d shown up sick (masked up), and worked through it. And when your grandfather died, you showed up to work and took the almost three hour drive home to be with your mother after the fact. But missing two hours of work for your tires to be changed? That was the breaking point? You hated this god-forsaken town and its dumb as fuck residents. The sun felt like it had beef with you today too, much like your landlord, ex, and former boss, it was beating down on you relentlessly. “Fuck, dude, do I owe you money too?” You cast your gaze towards the sky, asking it a question like it had the balls to answer it.
“No. Well- at least I don’t think you do.” Your body tensed at the voice that spoke a few feet away from where you stood. You knew it, all too well in fact. It belonged to one of the people that you loved the most, but pushed away for your scumbag of an ex. You hadn’t seen him around these parts in a while, even though he had been frequenting the town long before you moved there. It was like he felt you were in distress deep down and decided to show up. Or maybe you were just hoping that was the case. You didn’t dare turn around, feeling the sorrow overtake you, even if you could hear the smile in his warm voice.
“But you do owe me an explanation. If that counts.”
Your shoulders dropped, you knew he was right. You put your best smile on and turned around to greet him. You could fake happiness for a few minutes. You’d been doing it for months now, what were a few more moments? Your eyes nearly bugged out your head, it has been a few months, but did people change that drastically? Have you changed that drastically?
“Chr- what? Loo-Look at you.” You couldn’t contain the shock you felt seeing his appearance. He had always been muscular, but never this buff. He was always on the lean side, always athletic, now it looked like he could lift your car with you and your boxes in it. He wasn't any taller, but he's filled out tremendously since the last time you saw him at your grandfather's funeral almost a year ago. “Ho-how?”
There was no reason to ask if he'd been working out, it was pretty obvious half his free time was spent in the gym somewhere and the other in the tattoo parlor. He’d gone from someone who only had thoughts of getting a tattoo, to someone whose arms were completely covered in them. You stood there awkwardly gawking at the man, unsure of if it was appropriate to hug your old friend or not. Or if this was even your old friend or not, his face was the same, but everything else seemed like he body swapped with someone with a bit more edge to them. He was far from the goody-two-shoes, curly-haired, dimpled, student athlete you’d met at freshman orientation.
He laughed, tossing the two boxes you left upstairs next to the other on your roof before enveloping you in a hug that warmed you from the outside in. It was too hot to be this close, sharing body heat, but somehow you didn't mind since it was him.
“I've missed you.” He squeezed you so tight you felt like you might pop. You had forgotten how much comfort you'd get from hugging your best friend. He was the epitome of a warm home with the fireplace burning. He always smelled of ginger and sea water, like a day on the beach with fruity spritzers somewhere in the sunny land of Australia that he hailed from. One thing you never forgot about Chris was how he had the kindest eyes that contrasted perfectly with his large nose and equally pouty lips making his face uniquely his. No one looked or smelled like Chris to you. He was him, no one else compared.
You were suspended in his arms for what felt like forever. Only the tips on your toes were planted on the ground as he held you tightly to his body. He only decided to put you down when you cleared your throat out of awkwardness. He chuckled lightly, the sound of it rumbling in your chest as he gently sat you back down.
“It's been a while.. hasn't it?” you mumbled. Why were you being so weird about this? Your voice didn’t even sound like your own. Why the hell would you even say something stupid like that? Of course it had been a while. It was your fault you lost contact in the first place. He tried for months to get a hold of you, but you dodged him and his attempts to get you. Your ex justified you cutting your college best friend off with "I don't like the way he looks at you. It's like he could and would eat you up. Then he looks at me like he wants to kill me.” Looking back at it now, it was probably for good reason. Chris always had a good read on people, your ex was now included in that.
“A while? That's a bit of an understatement, isn't it?” He raised an eyebrow. He had gone from someone you saw damn near everyday to this being the first time you'd seen him in almost a year. Pushing away your refuge and comfort person was the biggest mistake you'd made in this life, besides dating any of your scuzzball exes of course. “A year, give or take a few weeks maybe. It's been almost a year since we've last seen each other.” He placed a hand on your shoulder to reassure you, “But all that matters is where we go from here, yeah? I would love to be petty and say that you’ll have to spend the rest of your life making it up to me, but since you no longer have a place to stay that isn’t your moms…let's start off a new chapter.”
He cleared his throat and took a step back from you. His shadow casted over you, giving you some relief from the scorching summer sun. A gentle breeze blew past, sweeping his seaside scent over your senses, transporting you to a better time and place where all of your time was spent in the comfort of his presence. He made you feel at peace, even if you knew your life had gone to complete shit over the last year. He made you forget about all your misfortunes.
“Hi, I'm Christopher. I wanted to offer you a helping hand, since you have all these boxes. Would you like me to help you put them in your car?”
You giggled, it felt like the first time you'd met him all over again. His accent sounded just as thick, his eyes shining just as bright, his smile just as warm as it was all those years ago. You dotted your forehead with the back of your arm in an attempt to get at least some of the sweat off, then rubbed it on your ripped jeans. You extended your hand, taking his much bigger one in yours. His hands were always so warm and this handshake was no exception. You slowly shook hands as if this was the first time you’d ever done so.
“It’s nice to meet you, Christopher. I’m Y/N.” You couldn’t help the smile that painted your face, maybe this was as good of time as any to start anew with your old friend.
“You mean to tell me, you want me to believe you gave up all that money and your corporate job, to… teach?” He laughed, his lopsided dimples showing as he stuffed a few fries in his mouth. He’d convinced you to go get lunch with him at some out of town diner. It was on the road back to New Orleans and right now you’d do anything to get out of this shithole you were currently occupying space in. Running into your ex wasn’t something you even wanted to think about, let alone do. It’d be best to go back home to where you came from. Then at least you wouldn’t be living in your car or going through the trash of places like this after closing looking for food. Plus, Chris was back home. What was a better incentive than that?
He leaned back in his seat, “Yeah. Not long after your grandpa’s funeral I did a few volunteer hours at this home for disadvantaged youth. That led to me traveling to a few different warring countries to help build shelters and teach the youth some valuable skills.” He shrugged, “I found out that I loved it. Helping to mold youth with my own hands. They are the future after all.”
You rolled your eyes, there goes that goody-two-shoes act. He hadn’t changed as much as you thought. “I took a month off work to decide if that was really what I wanted to do, and the rest is history.” He sipped his strawberry milkshake before speaking again, “What about you? Huh?”
You slumped in your seat, confidence blown to smithereens after hearing all the wonderful things Chris had done over the last year. What have you achieved besides homelessness, manlessness, and joblessness? The ‘I got nothing going on in my life trifecta.’ “I- uh…” You paused, trying to think of some way to embellish your shortcomings into something that sounded somewhat interesting. But it seemed your mind was packed up in one of the boxes in your backseat. “Honestly?”
He nodded for you to continue. You chewed on your lip, fearing that honesty was going to make you seem far more pitiful than you were trying to let off. “Shit has been bad since I left New Orleans.” you paused to take a breath, feeling like the weight that had been dragging you down for over a year now was slowly being lifted off your shoulders.
“I miss my mom, my friends, you…” You sighed, “I miss the city and all the shit we used to get into, the fucking food..” You had been pushing the food around on your plate for the last ten minutes, how the fuck did they mess up a club sandwich and fries? Plus your coke was flat and scarily see through.
“I have to admit.. The food here used to be better.” His words sparked a memory. He did travel down to St. Martinville quite a lot back in college. You never knew the reason, it wasn’t like he had family here. “How about this- since this was my suggestion in the first place, I’ll pay for the bill..” He was going to do that in the first place, you knew him. Even if it had been a transformative year for him, he was still the same Christopher. “Then, when you get settled and back at home, you can treat me to a meal.” He leaned in as if he had a big secret to tell, “I still have a weak spot for your cooking, if you want to go that route and skip going out all together. That would also prevent me from purposely ordering the most expensive thing on the menu out of spite.”
You laughed, appreciating his understanding of your current financial predicament. You had enough to get gas on your way back to New Orleans, but that was about it. There were moths in your bank account with how bare it was at this point.
“Cook you a meal? Sounds like a sweet deal to me.” You agreed, almost too easily. “It’s been a while since I flexed in the kitchen, though. My boy-,” You sighed, you still hadn’t gotten used to saying what your relationship with that man was now that you were no longer together. “My ex didn’t like cajun or southern food very much. Truthfully, he didn’t like anything with seasoning or didn’t come from a fast food restaurant or out of a bag.”
You started to play with the food on your plate once again as you recounted your experience, “Last time I cooked for him, he said it was too spicy and that I was trying to poison him. He got so angry he threw the plate and it dented the drywall. His issues are why I’m not getting anything back on that stupid deposit. That and my late rent..” You felt annoyed. Why had you put up with your ex and his foolishness? He was a paranoid man child with anger issues and you sat by and let him treat you poorly, expecting that one day he might change. He didn’t, he was incapable of doing that, it wasn’t in him.
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore. He’s in the past and we will leave him there. You can get back to being the old you, find whatever parts of you that you feel went missing since you left town. You know I’ll have your back through it all.” Chris always had a way of lifting your spirits, making you feel as if everything could be alright, even if the current circumstances said otherwise. “It’s a long drive back home, you should get going.” He grabbed your hand over the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Wait- aren’t you coming back with me?” He shook his head, looking down at his hand on yours, thumb tracing patterns on your skin. He took a moment before he spoke as if thinking deeply about what he wanted to say before uttering a word.
“I have a few things here to take care of here and after that, I’ll be back. I won’t give you time to miss me, I promise.”
You couldn’t help the shy smile that graced your face at his words. “I’ll just be here overnight and then I’m heading back.” He sat back again, fingers slowly slipping away from yours to rest on his lap. “That will give you time to settle back into your old room. You know your mom hasn’t touched it since you moved.”
You chuckled, she was a sucker for nostalgia. If she felt that was a way to keep a part of her baby with her, then she could rightfully do that. “So come up with a meal plan. I’ll pick you up when I get back tomorrow and we can go grocery shopping and I’ll introduce you to my roommates.” Chris had been living alone the whole time you’d known him. It had something to do with his allergies or something of that nature. Why all of a sudden did he have roommates?
“Oh? Is this the same guy who didn’t want to live off campus with me because of ‘allergies?’ That you?” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders before looking you square in the eyes and answering.
“Couldn’t shack up with the girl I like, now could I?” Did your heart just flutter? You shook it off. Brushing his comment off as just a flirty little joke. Christopher was a flirt, even if he’d vehemently deny it if you asked.
“Please.” You laughed, “The girl you liked? You must be referring to Suzy. Wait- no, Rebekkah with two ‘k's’.” You mocked the girl's annoyingly chipper voice while waving two fingers in the air like she used to when telling people how to spell her name. “Wait- no, not her either. What was her name? Oh Kimberly, the red head with the thick thighs and fat ass. You had the hots for her so bad you tripped over your own feet looking at her, not just once either. Didn’t you break your laptop like that?” His cheeks tinted with a soft shade of pink.
“You said you wouldn’t bring that back up!” He whined. This tattooed, buff, grown man just whined. And you couldn’t deny, it was cute as shit.
CHAPTER INDEX ⇠☾⇢NEXT CHAPTER
© ✐Channieskies 『MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. Please leave a like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this story.』
#net-member: channieskies#member: bang chan#au: supernatural#au: vampire#au: werewolf#au: witch#genre: smut#genre: angst#genre: supernatural romance#genre: urban fantasy#fic-type: series#rating: 18+
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Ok, ok...
Au where the multiverse is a library where every universe is a book and the mcyters are embodyiments of either tropes/styles/types of universes/fanfiction tags/ecc...
Like, the main tone quartet:
Mumbo - Fluff.
Grian - Angst.
Scar - Hurt/Confort.
Martyn - Humour.
The secondary style deities:
Bdubs - Cartoony.
Etho - Noir.
Ren - Political Intrigue.
Pearl - Horror.
BigB - Psychological horror.
Cleo - Thriller.
Oli - Crack.
Joe Hills - Poetic / Philosofical.
Or the setting six:
Scott - High Fantasy.
Jimmy - Urban fantasy.
Tango - Historical/Steam punk.
Impulse - Futuristic/Sci-fi.
Skizz - Modern.
Zed - Superhero.
Perhaps the rulers of pairing:
Gem - F/F
Sausage - M/M
Lizzie - F/M
Joel - Multi.
Keralis - Queer platonic relationships.
Jevin - Friendship.
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Touchstarved LIs and Fanfiction AUs They Should Be In
Haven't been able to stop thinking about the people who said Ais is "always the tattoo artist in tattoo shop/flower shop AU". I don't even like tattoo shop/flower shop like that but it was such a correct thing to say and I have to acknowledge that. So here's that plus AUs I've seen that I think the LIs should be in.
Ais
Flower shop/tattoo shop, as mentioned. This one is TOO good. Come ON. Ais as the hot-ass owner of the local tattoo shop? Him listening to your idea for a tattoo and then smoothly and easily inking it into your skin and telling you you're good when you don't cry? I don't even need to explain this one. It makes sense in like every way.
NASCAR/Formula One AU. The idea of him getting out of that car sweaty as hell in the full racing suit after crushing a track record? Like, taking off the helmet and shaking his hair out and looking like he couldn't give less of a shit about winning first place? Yeah. I am not immune to vroom vroom
Mermaid AU but he's a bull shark or an octopus, not a fish. IDK if I want his claspers or his tentacles more, but either way he should be lurking in the briny deep and protecting me from the real ocean monsters and threatening to eat me even though he probably doesn't mean it, probably.
Vere
Magic/Witches AU. - C'monnnn, he's already so witchy! He's got the sleeves and everything. And yes I know TS already has magic in it, but you know what I mean. He, like, lives in the spooky forest and the people of the village are deathly afraid of him, but you need his magical help, so against the wishes of family and friends you seek him out. And he forces you through a series of dangerous illusions as a trial and, when you successfully pass them, finally agrees to help you for a price...
Royalty AU as either the capricious king of a powerful nation or that king's advisor, formal or informal (smart concubine). I've never seen Game of Thrones but that kind of castle politics, shadowy backstabbing shit seems right up his alley.
Modern AU as an artist: I already talked about this with Vere as an artist and game dev, but I think it'd be so funny if Vere was just sitting in a coffee shop (local, Starbucks is below him) trying to finish his commissions in peace because his roommate(s) are annoying and/or distracting. Honestly, Vere would also rock as a modern AU witch, like urban fantasy type.
Leander
Barista/Bartender AU. He's so extroverted and congenial I have to put him in a drink service AU. He definitely has a "time to mix drinks and save lives" type of work ethic behind the counter. He remembers regular customers and their drink orders, he is LIBERAL with discounts, and he leaves little notes to the people he thinks are cute.
Serial killer AU. I am so basic and even though I have no desire to watch or listen to true crime now, I was raised on the Investigation Discovery Channel and I've never lost that. Look at his fucking face. He's asking for it to be covered in blood. Even better if this is combined with the above AU and he's a sweet server by day and a ruthless murderer by night but he keeps the same wide, pleasant, and genuine smile on because both things are things he loves to do. Even BETTER if he has an obsession with one of his regulars and starts killing people around them in an attempt to get closer with them.
Theatre AU. Siiiighs. Yeah, I'm a theatre kid. And I just know this guy would be one of those actors who wants to be a mentor/older brother figure for any new troupe-members. He's walking you through all the vocal warmups. He's offering to help you run lines. He's driving you home after rehearsals. He is a triple threat, but he doesn't prefer musicals because he doesn't like singing in front of an audience (even though he's an amazing singer). And I just know props absolutely hates him because he keeps touching shit that isn't his.
Kuras
Hospital AU and Angels/Demons AU is too easy. Instead, I'm giving him the flower shop owner in flower shop/tattoo shop AU. Anyone here like KurAis? Anyways, I think it would be sweet to have him be the super-tall, kind but a little awkward and very knowledgeable owner of a flower shop. He probably enjoys crafting bouquets that have meaning in flower language. And yes, he knows about the nice meanings and the rude meanings, so you can get a "fuck you" bouquet from Kuras.
Detroit Become Human AU as an android. I barely remember D:BH but it was one of the first things that occurred to me when thinking about AUs for Kuras. Maybe because he'd be the kind of android who was like, "Don't worry, I'm not a real person, it's okay if I get shot repeatedly," and wouldn't understand why someone would be concerned about him anyways.
Elementary school teacher/single parent AU but I don't know if I want him to be the teacher or the parent. Do I want him to look after a group of children, making efforts to understand their silly little words and communicate with them so they learn and feel cared for? Or do I want him to be the struggling single parent who is so happy to see their child finally getting the attention they deserve outside the house? IDK, but I'd be happy either way.
Mhin
Superhero AU. They're kinda already halfway to superhero gear with the hood and the cape and the tight pants, but I think it be cool for them to dart from rooftop to rooftop, saving civilians and fighting crime. IDK if it'd be cooler if they were half-hero half-villain (controlled by their bird-monster side and wreaking havoc) or if it'd just be nice to have a crow hero motif. Anyway they save me and I'm a reporter who uses my reporter contacts to try and track them down not knowing they're actually my upstairs neighbor who I bring shepherd's pie and strawberry cupcakes to sometimes.
The other tattoo artist in tattoo shop/flower shop. You know how there's always some other character working in one or both of the shops? Ayeah that's Mhin. Number one, I think it'd be hot if they had tattoos. But even if they don't they're still hot when they give the tattoo because focus and skill are attractive. They're talented enough that Ais keeps them around even though they hate him. They never talk to him even though he's their boss. Over the course of the fic Mhin and Ais get closer b/c Kuras is friends with both of them and he wants them to like each other.
Angel/Demon AU as an angel because I want them to be corrupted :) I want them to be forced to submit to their own worst impulses :) and eventually realize that being evil makes them feel good and more importantly liberated and in control :) also maybe they can get wrecked by a demon please :)
Aaaand the DLC cast gets one as a treat!
Sen
Pacific Rim AU but PLEASE don't ask me why. I don't even REMEMBER Pacific Rim. But the clarity with which I could imagine Sen in a Pacific Rim AU is startling. She's gruff and she doesn't want to partner up with you, a rookie, but somehow you have perfect chemistry in the mech she doesn't want to acknowledge. She's too reckless out of disregard for her life, and you reel her in; you're inexperienced, and she fixes your mistakes. Then one day she starts to notice that she's guarding her own life more fiercely than ever before...because of you.
If that's not what Pacific Rim is about shhhh don't correct me /j
Elyon
Easy answer is pornstar/industry AU or camming AU but I'll never take the easy way out. And I know we don't know shit about the guy but I think reincarnation AU would kinda hit with him. His promo talks about wanting things money can't buy? Like possibly the ability to save his soulmate from dying and forgetting him over and over while he retains the memories of every life they've both shared and lived separately, as friends, lovers, enemies, and strangers? That would go hard imo.
If you read all of that, thanks! I hope you enjoyed~
#luckyfiction#touchstarved game#touchstarved vn#ais#vere#leander#kuras#mhin#sen#elyon#touchstarved au#was gonna include psychopass au but istg i'll put ANYBODY in psychopass#when i rewatch psychopass s1? it's over for y'all#also don't get me STARTED on omegaverse#maybe later i'll do smthn for that#(if people won't strangle me)#anw that ppt post is so fucking funny#i started laughing all over again please look at it if you haven't
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Years and years and years back, I was tinkering with a concept that, at the time, I hadn't seen done before, which was to do a Fables or Once Upon A Time-style mass-fairy-tale-retelling in a soft-sci-fi space opera/planetary romance setting. I remember a couple of overarching concepts. One was that the classic Fairy Tales being remixed with increasingly outlandish genres was an actual metaphysical conceit of the setting; the big bad was going to be King Arthur, who, due to his nature as the one who cyclically dies and returns, had become cognizant of all the times he'd lived through the same shitshow but with a wild west veneer or an urban-fantasy veneer or a mad-max veneer or a coffee-shop-AU veneer, and on this-go around, he'd decided to use the planet-shattering imperial might of space!camelot to attempt a suicide run against the entire universe in the hopes of deviating from the script strongly enough to break the cycle. (Note that all of this came from a place of total ignorance of Arthurian lore, which is in part why I never pulled the trigger on it- I felt I had reading to do.) The other character concept that stuck in my head was that there was this tertiary character who was the classic space-western gunslinger- constantly swooping in at the last minute to bail the heroes out, rugged and squinty-eyed, effortlessly laying waste to vastly superior opponents with nary a thought. Through context clues (such as his ability to fly in outer space under his own power) it was eventually going to be made clear that this was supposed to be the setting's version of Peter Pan. Prior to the Space Opera cycle, Neverland’s conceptual gravity as a place that fundamentally does not change allowed it to avoid being reset at the end of each cycle; Peter's cavalier attitude towards life and death was informed by the fact that no matter how many times Hook dies, no matter how many times the Darlings visited and departed, they'd always eventually come back, albeit with mannerisms informed by whatever conceit was currently dominating the rest of the universe outside Neverland. Unfortunately, for the space-opera cycle Hook showed up as the captain of a star-destroyer-type thing and unceremoniously glassed Neverland from orbit, ending the party for good. Peter then finally took the plunge into quote-unquote "adulthood" in order to adopt a vengeful-pursuer role- indeed, he stakes a lot of his present identity on the idea that he was finally "forced to grow up"- but it's of course obvious to anyone who gets remotely close to him that he's only become "more mature" in the way that the gratuitous blood-and-guts Liefeldian anti-heroes of the 90s positioned themselves as a mature alternative to the cornball antics of the silver age; all he's done is trade up to a slightly more involved Juvenile power fantasy, still equally divorced from adulthood even if he looks 35.
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C R I M S O N . V E I L forum rpg urban fantasy de type créatures et gangs avec concept de doubles identités secrètes (tw : violence, sang, chasse) ¨:·. .·:¨ ¨:·. ☾ .·:¨ ¨:·. .·:¨ ¨:·. .·:¨ ¨:·. ☾ .·:¨ ¨:·. .·:¨ Scarborough. Il y a quelque chose dans ce nom qui écorche la langue en y laissant sa marque, raclant la gargue pour s'extirper presque douloureusement des lèvres. Ici, les apparences sont trompeuses, se fardant d'un monticule de faux semblants au cœur de la station balnéaire britanique. Les jours d'été sont doucereux, idéaux pour flâner naïvement le temps d'un après-midi à sombrer dans l'oisiveté. Puis, il y a la sorgue qui tombe, ne laisse qu'un empire des lueurs artificielles devenues floues sous une brume dominante, sertie d'une âcre fragrance d'iode.
Alors les ombres sortent, sournoises chimères aux babines avides dégueulant de crocs affutés qui entament leur ballet nocturne. Les masques tombent jusqu'à l'aube naissante et plus rien ne paraît alors rassurant. Les bêtes grouillent, se dévoilent, se croisent à l’abri des mires aveugles d’êtres humains pour qui elles ne sont que des histoires fantaisistes que l'on conte aux bambins. Les griffes se ferment sur les chairs et les disparitions vont bon train. Enfin jusqu'à-ce que les projectiles filent, tentant de protéger les pauvres égaré.es de leurs funestes étreintes. Parce qu'il y a toujours eu les proies, toujours eu les traqueurs en un jeu sempiternel. Si bien qu'on ne sait plus vraiment qui sont les prédateurs et qui sont les proies.
Peut-être que dans tout ça votre charmante voisine vous offrant d'alléchantes pâtisseries n'est autre qu'une chasseuse de monstres aguerrie une fois le crépuscule tombé, que votre collègue de bureau se révèle être un bestiau assassin faisant bonne figure afin de mieux se fondre dans la masse, que cet aimable facteur fait partie d'un organisme secret mettant à mal l'humanité lorsqu'il ne livre pas le courrier.
Et vous, au fond, qui êtes-vous réellement ? ¨:·. .·:¨ ¨:·. ☾ .·:¨ ¨:·. .·:¨ ¨:·. .·:¨ ¨:·. ☾ .·:¨ ¨:·. .·:¨
Encore un énième univers porté sur les bestioles et pourtant, Crimson Veil vous proposera quelque chose en plus pour pimenter le jeu. Le forum possèdera un concept d’identités secrètes, où seul le staff connaîtra la véritable espèce ou rôle au sein des organisations de chaque personnage. Le but sera évidemment de jouer le jeu, d’en dévoiler le moins possible, laisser des indices s’échapper de temps à autre et dissimuler les crasses sous quelques balises hide bien placées. Les membres d’une même organisation ou d’une même espèce, pourront se reconnaître entre eux bien entendu, à comploter paisiblement à l’abri des regards dans des zones secrètes. Bien sûr, le forum demande pas mal d’aménagements pratiques afin que les mystères soient viables au maximum, les réponses quant à l’organisation des choses arriveront en temps voulu.
Et ça ne risque pas de vriller city tout ça ? Et bien mon petit Philibert, le jeu sera agrémenté de plusieurs espèces non jouables sous forme de PNJ capables de semer le trouble et donner du rebondissement entre les diverses intrigues. Même les créatures les plus hostiles pourront se faire croquer par plus gros qu’elles.
Le nom de Scarborough, petite ville côtière du Yorkshire, en Angleterre, vous est peut-être familier. En effet, une partie de l’univers reprendra le lore et quelques petites choses à son forum grand frère, Noctivagus, ouvert en septembre 2020 et qui a fermé ses portes en 2023. De nombreuses choses seront cependant intégralement revues et adaptées (nombre et types de créatures, gangs, système de jeu, codage et design, etc.). Reprendre cette base et réhabiliter ce forum sous une toute nouvelle forme permettra également de gagner en temps et en énergie durant la construction (big brain mouve). À bientôt donc pour une toute nouvelle aventure.
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Graysons Cafe
by Your_Local_Eldritch_Horror Dick Grayson is a shifter who’s opening a cat cafe. Are the cats magical? Yes. Are they Adorable? Yes (at least Dick thinks so). Are they Dick’s family? Yes. Are they shifters themselves? No Or: urban fantasy magical cat cafe au where most of the Batfam are magical cats. Words: 323, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake (DCU), Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas Relationships: Batfamily Members & Dick Grayson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Cat Cafés, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Animal Shifter Dick Grayson, Alternate Universe - Cats, Found Family, Family Fluff, No Batcest | No Batfamily Incest (DCU) via https://ift.tt/jso1gpk
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tagged by @perfectlysunny02 in a make-me-write!
god knows if i'll actually be able to answer any of these due to Holiday Hell, but for the time being my ask box is open wide in case someone wants to nudge me to write my WIPs!
the idea is that I get around to it eventually, lol. if you have an unanswered BT writing ask, I SWEAR I have it in my drafts and I'm thinking about it
--
The Fic Emojis are as follows:
🧛♂️ for the Urban Fantasy AU
feat. vampire!buck, werewolf!118, and a whole lot of rambling about tommy's life in the small-town version of los angeles i decided to make
👨👧 for the Postcanon Kid!fic
feat. a traumatized preteen, parenting as an uncomfortable mirror, and the year 2028 when911ishopefullyoversoicanpretendthisfits
🦸♂️ for the Superpower AU
feat. nonpilot!flying!tommy, mentor!bobby, and a buck who might literally have too much of an effect on the people around him.
👾 for the Pacific Rim Fusion
feat. drift incompatible!bucktommy, jaegerpilots!eddie&buck&tommy, and drift compatible!eddieandbuck.
👨🏫 for the Coma!Verse/Canonverse Xover
feat. mathgenius!buck, hitman!tommy, physicist!karen and hopefully a scene where i get to bitch about how both bucks are smart if you're not an asshole
🕑 for the Time Traveler!Tommy Fic
feat. fall out boy title inspo, pre-118 buck, post-breakup tommy, and probably smatterings of the former tommy/abby engagement
⚖️ for the Kinsey Fix-it Oneshot
feat. Reconciled!Bucktommy, Evan Buckley's ADHD, Alfred Kinsey Fun Facts, and Genuine Bucktommy Banter (TM)
❓️ for the Mystery Option
feat. unbelievable feats of impossibility, my personal homage to "all body is horror, actually," childhood trauma being over but watch out, and buck learning more about himself (usually against his will)
Don't feel like typing in an emoji? Just type in what the emoji represents [E.G. vampire, family w/ man&girl, or superhero]and I'll count that as the emoji! Searching for emojis can be a pain in the ass, so no worries if you'd rather not! <3
tagging: anyone who wants to do this 👀
#bucktommy#911 abc#evan buckley#tommy kinard#fanfic#911 show#my post#could i tag eddie in this? yes.#however. i fear being eaten alive since he's only mentioned once#weewoo superpower fic#weewoo buckley's law fic#weewoo urban fantasy fic#weewoo comacanonverse fic#weewoo time travel tommy fic#weewoo postcanon kid fic
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Crimson Clover Week From February 7th to 14th. [2025]
PROMPTS.
1. Medieval Fantasy / Urban Fantasy*.
2. Legacy / Moon.
3. Flowers / Jewels.
4. Movies [AU] / City Pop*.
5. Immortality / Necromancy.
6. Famous AU / Partners in Crime.
7. Valentine's Day / Bad Luck.
Explanation of [*]
Urban fantasy is a genre that mixes fantasy elements, such as magic or supernatural creatures (vampires, wizards, fairies), with modern or urban settings. Unlike medieval fantasy, where everything happens in an ancient world full of castles, urban fantasy takes place in contemporary cities, such as New York or London. In these types of stories, magic coexists with technology and everyday life, sometimes in a secret or hidden way. A good example of urban fantasy would be Harry Potter when wizards live in London and use magic while others don't notice. City pop is a musical genre that emerged in Japan in the late 1970s and rose to popularity in the 1980s. It is a mix of pop, funk, jazz, disco and soft rock, creating a fresh and relaxed sound, inspired by urban life and the modern lifestyle of that time, especially related to big cities and the idea of enjoying luxury and leisure. Visually, city pop is associated with a retro aesthetic that reflects 80s culture, bright colors, neon lights, sports cars, cityscapes, beaches and fashion from that decade. The images evoke a nostalgic feeling, like eternal summer, in an atmosphere of urban glamour.
RULES.
You can include other couples, but the main focus should always be Akako x Kaito.
Platonic fanworks are welcome.
Don't forget to put the corresponding tags and warnings on your works.
You are free to interpret the instructions as you want, you don't have to take it completely literally.
You can mix all the themes, not do some, do all of them or do just one, it doesn't matter, we accept any contribution for the AkaKai community.
We will be working with the following tags: #CrimsonWeek2025 #CrimsonWeek #AkaKaiWeek and #AkaKaiWeek2025.
You can send a message or write in the comments if you have any doubts or questions! It's always a pleasure to help.
#crimson clover#koizumi akako#kaito x akako#akako x kaito#akako koizumi#kaito kuroba#magic kaito#akakai#dcmk#kaitou kid#mk1412#kaiaka#AkaKaiWeek2025#CrimsonCloverWeek2025#CrimsonCloverWeek#AkaKaiWeek#KaiAkaWeek#mk#magic kaito 1412#kaito kid
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Ghost Selkie au Pelt Poll Results!
THE MASSES HAVE SPOKEN HERE ARE THE TOP THREE RESULTS:
HOODIE/SWEATSHIRT WON
I got a couple of good suggestions in the comments and reblogs that I decided I liked as well so I’m gonna drop a few inspiration/reference photos below about styles I’m considering before I make my final decisions for the au
#long post#danny fenton#dc x dp#Ghost Selkie au#urban fantasy type au#Ignore the formatting I couldn’t figure out how to do it right#inspiration photos#reference photos#what do you guys think?
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Steviestits's Masterpost
General Info
Name: Alex Age: 36 Pronouns: They/Them Prompt Guidelines: Accepted Subjects Ao3 Account: LouderSwine Icon & Banner Credit: BoneBoyBird
(Complete Tag and Masterlist under cut)
General Tag List
Answered Asks
Text Posts
WIP Wednesday
My Fics
My Bad MS Paint Art
WIP Wednesday Tag List
WIP Snippets
Fantasy Prompts
Fic Naming
MerMay Prompts
Steddie Fics Masterlist
By The Pricking of My Thumb
After Jonathan bashed Steve's head into the pavement, Steve remembered he had powers, setting off a chain reaction from Nancy breaking up with him early to certain enemies showing up sooner than expected.
Status: Ongoing Ao3 Link: Click Here Tumblr Tag: #sevensteveau Rating: Teen Trigger Warnings: Canon Typical Violence
The Heart Of Loch Nora
Kas aka Eddie takes over Prince Steve's kingdom and keeps Steve captive before brainwashing him into being his mate.
Status: Completed Ao3 Link: Click here Tumblr Tag: #heart of loch nora (includes art for fic) Rating: Explicit Trigger Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Extremely Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Brainwashing, Gaslighting, Stockholm Syndrome, Mind Manipulation, Mind Control, Forced Feminization, Body Modification, Blood Drinking, Mild Gore, Additional Warnings In Author's Note
I Move the Stars For No One
Labyrinth inspired, but they share zero plot points. Steve becomes King Edward's possession after stumbling onto a fairy circle.
Status: Ongoing Ao3 Link: (Coming after completion of first chapter) Masterpost Link: Click Here Tumblr Tag: #starsfornoone Rating: Explicit Trigger Warnings: Child abuse, Feminization, Mating Rituals, Heats/Ruts but not the Omegaverse kind
In The Family Way
Addams Family Values au set in the Omegaverse after the events of the movie with Steve as Debbie and Eddie as Fester.
Status: Ongoing Ao3 Link: Click Here Masterpost Link: Click Here Tumblr Tag: #inthefamilyway Rating: Explicit Trigger Warnings: Attempted Murder as a love language
I’ve Seen My Future, And You’re It
Before Stevie met Mr. Henderson, a science teacher at her school, her life was simple. She was a teenage boy living in the year 2024 and didn’t care about all this science crap, but not only has she turned into a girl, she’s traveled back in time to the year 1986 and is now stuck there!
Status: Ongoing Ao3 Link: (Coming after completion of first chapter) Masterpost Link: Click Here Tumblr Tag: #futureyoureit Rating: Explicit Trigger Warnings: Genderbend, Brainwashing, Electric Stimulation, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gaslighting, Feminization
My God Longs For Me
Horror story where Steve was abducted by a cult and meets his future husband, Eddie, only for them to be separated when the police break-up the cult. Years later on a camping trip, Steve's friends begin to be murdered, which somehow has to do with the cult from his past.
Status: Ongoing Ao3 Link: (Coming after completion of first chapter) Masterpost Link: Click Here Tumblr Tag: #mygodlongsforme Rating: Explicit Trigger Warnings: Child Abuse, Feminization, Brainwashing, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Ritual Sacrifices, Gore, Mpreg, Body Horror, Monster Fucking
Siren's Call, Sailor's Fall
Lost Boys Au but with mermaids instead of vampires, and the mermaids win.
Status: Ongoing Ao3 Link: Click Here Masterpost Link: Click Here Tumblr Tag: #lostmerau Rating: Explicit Trigger Warnings: Hypnosis, Extremely Dubious Consent, Feminization in the Clownfish type of way, Mermaid Transformation, Bad Guys Win
System Hacked
Eddie hacks into Steve's terminal and alters Steve's body and mind to his liking.
Status: Completed Ao3 Link: Click Here Tumblr Tag: #system hacked Rating: Explicit Trigger Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Mind Manipulation, Brainwashing, Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Extremely Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Forced Feminization
Urban Legend
Legend has it that there's a monster that stalks the campus of Hawkins University, who devours those careless enough to wander into its grasp. Not mentioned, however, is that monster is looking for a mate and has set its sights on Steve.
Status: Ongoing Ao3 Link: Click Here Tumblr Tag: #urbanlegend Rating: Explicit Trigger Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Mind Manipulation, Brainwashing, Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Extremely Dubious Consent, Body Modification, Forced Feminization, Additional Warnings In Author's Note
Divider borders by Saradika
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hi, stay! read ki's series' chapter here! ✦
note: this is not suitable for minors, mdni!
𝕴𝕴: 𝕲𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖉
Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader, Jeong(Jung) Jaehyun x Reader (Fem/AFAB/Curvy/Plus sized)
Genre: Smut (eventual), Angst, Supernatural Romance, Urban Fantasy
AU: Supernatural AU, Vampire Au, Werewolf AU, Witch AU
Word count: 8058 [Reading time: 33 Minutes ]
Nets: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society
Synopsis: Strange events keep piling up. There is something going on in this town that you are just starting to see.
CHAPTER INDEX
“Chris…” You paused, eyes focusing on the purple and pink hue that washed over the trees in the distance before you looked in his eyes to show your sincerity. “I can’t apologize enough. I shouldn’t have abandoned you. Who does that to their best friend? Especially when they have been through everything together.” You reached out and grabbed his hand, without even thinking about it. “I promise I will make it up to you. I promise I won’t be the biggest dick in Louisiana and leave you again. That wasn’t fair to you, I know that.” You played with his fingers, drawing patterns absentmindedly on the red tinted skin on his knuckles, your attention now on his skin. “I’ll be a better friend. I promise you this.” You looked up, catching him staring at you. He smiled, his lopsided dimples doing what they usually did, making you smile with him.
A.N: Please reblog and leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Special thanks to @palindrome969 and @therhythmafterthesummer for reading over this for me. I could never thank you enough. Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids or NCT. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.
Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. This chapter contains use of explicit language.
Home. That's all it was. There was no sweet home to follow it up, because you hadn't left it that way. If anything, you left this place like you'd robbed a grave: disturbed and desecrated. Along with your belongings, you took the bad juju of committing such a brazen and criminal act. You'd left your mother, your friends, your life, and career all for a man. A good for nothing one at that. Your mother had always told you that you had to be careful of the choices you make, you never know where they might have you end up. Yours culminated in you ending up sitting in your beat up car, across the street from your mother's brightly colored shotgun-style house in the uptown district of New Orleans. Her porch was decorated with a plethora of wild yet beautiful flowers and a few colorful chairs. It was inviting, just as it had always been. This was the home that had been in your family for generations, passed down from mother to daughter since 1839. It was lived in and warm, quite possibly the most comfortable place in the world. A safe haven.
Your great-great-great maternal grandmother, Abigail, was the first of your people to make something of herself. She didn't have much of an education, but she was a talented seamstress and hairdresser, making a name for herself across three different states. She passed it to her only daughter and so on and so forth. Your mother swore that within the next few years, she was retiring from nursing and moving to Florida. You don't know why, but she swears she's going to find a good man and settle down there. But you know her best, and she is too much of a free spirit to stay in one place. That's why she's constantly traveling, taking her nursing job around the country and sometimes out of it as well, even if she was never gone long.
You picked and bit at your nails, the one nervous habit you wish you could have kicked with your nicotine addiction, but you'd take it if it meant never smoking again. You felt unnerved. It was weird, it wasn't like this was someplace fancy, it was just your moms house. Your childhood home. You could see the warm amber lighting coming through the window, indicating that she was home, but for the life of you, you couldn't get your ass out of the car. God, how you wish you could smoke and rid yourself of this stupid anxious feeling that had you tied to your seat like a locked seatbelt. Would she be disappointed in you? You failed as a daughter, on multiple accounts. You just couldn’t seem to get life right.
Your own mother had struggled with juggling a full-time job and a child, planting down roots in this city when she knew the wind was calling her name. According to her, she had been compelled by the spirits of your ancestors to have you, persuaded that it was finally the right time to settle into motherhood. But she was a bird, not something stagnant and never changing like a tree; she was meant to fly but instead had to put down roots. Having you forced her to give up on the life she wanted to have and acquiesce to domesticity. She'd sacrificed the things she'd liked just so you could afford the ballet lessons you begged to take for a few months before quitting. Same with the piano and singing lessons, as well as the haughty toighty summer camp she sent you to, all so you could study music theory. When you were accepted at Tulane University, she probably expected you to be like any other college student. You know, wrack up a bunch of debt and slowly pay it off while doing the job you went to school for. It probably wasn't in her plans to get a call from you, telling her you were pregnant in the middle of your junior year, dropping out.
You bet she wasn't expecting to have to pay for your therapy after you lost the baby either. You know it had to have been a downward spiral of bad news when you told her you weren’t going back to school, years of education and sacrifice be damned. You’re certain it hurt when you left town one night and didn't look back- the loud knock on your window pulled you from lamenting on your sub-mediocre life choices. You jumped, grabbing your heart to make sure it didn't make a run for it. “Mom?!?” You grabbed the hand crank to roll down your window, just enough to hear what she had to say.
The first thing she said was your full name loudly, “Why the hell are you sitting in the damn car, across the street from the house like a stalking lunatic? Get in the house!” She sighed, and mumbled something else under her breath as she crossed the street in haste. “I'm sorry y'all. You know that girl has no damn sense. I swear she gets that from her father.” You hadn't noticed, but there were witnesses to your car breakdown, the elderly couple next door and the nosy woman across the street. She'd snitched on you plenty of times before, why would this time be any different?
Chris hadn’t lied when said your house hadn't changed. It was indeed the same nostalgic little time capsule it was the last time you visited. You didn't bother with your boxes, entirely too tired to move the front seat and retrieve them from the back. That was a problem for the you of tomorrow. You still had clothes in your old room and could always bum toiletries off your mom, she wouldn’t mind. “What are you visiting your old mother for now?” She asked, taking a seat on her sofa. The tv was on mute, playing some old black and white reruns. You could tell she just finished her batch of cookies for the children's ward at the hospital, the house smelled of her delicately spiced chocolate chip cookies. They were a hit amongst kids and adults alike.
“I.. need a place to stay.” You didn't hesitate to say what you needed. It was her motto that was drilled into your head after all, ‘Closed mouths don't get fed’. You fidgeted with the keychain in your hands, you needed something to keep your hands and mind busy. She started for a moment only to nod, indicating to you that you could stay. “It will be for a while. U-until I find a job at least.” She nodded again, not even bothering to ask why or what happened. She was understanding like that. You tried not to let it show, but you were grateful to be born to a woman like her. She was beyond anything you could have asked or wished for. You knew that not everyone was blessed with a caring and understanding parent, and you were truly thankful that you at the very least, got to experience that from one of yours.
“But- on one condition.” She put up her hand to stop you from going further into the home. You dreaded what she had to say. Last time you stayed here, she had you volunteer at the soup kitchen for three days, saying that you could have been homeless, but she was being nice enough to give you food and shelter. That was during your grandfather's funeral a few months back. You spent time volunteering while you were mourning. Your mother is that type of person. Pay it forward was another one of her mottos. “You go to work with me for a couple hours this weekend. I have a new boss in the children's ward and I would love for him to meet my baby.” She said in a nonchalant way, but you knew she had been talking about you, she always did. Didn’t matter what you were doing or where you went, you would always be her baby and she was proud.
You truthfully didn’t know why you even doubted how she felt. There was never a moment where she wasn’t proud of who you’d become, no matter what mistakes you’ve made in life. Maybe it was just that little anxious and negative voice in the back of your mind that constantly felt the need to remind you that you were undeserving of anything good. Whether it be platonic or amorous, love wasn’t meant for someone like you. You were wholly undeserving, unworthy of it. “Also, take a trip to the family tomb and pay some respect to your elders, they have kept you safe this far and you want them to continue to do so in the future…” She continued to talk about all the things she wanted you to do for the tomb, like sweeping and dusting to make sure they were comfortable in the afterlife. It was something you always thought was a little strange, but who were you to knock the traditions of old southern folk? She’d survived this long for a reason, right?
You could feel the warmth of the sun on your face as you stirred awake the next morning. You had snuggled into your freshly changed sheets last night and honestly, you don’t remember much after that. You rubbed your eyes, opening them slowly only to find another pair staring right back at you. You quickly moved back, maybe too quickly, accidentally tossing yourself off the bed, tangled in the mess of sheets and blankets. Your butt hit the hardwood floors right on your tailbone, causing it to hurt almost immediately. “Ow!” The same eyes peeked over the side of the bed at you, as if checking if you were alright. The tiny meow that came from its mouth was a strong affirmation that the cute little black and white cat with two-toned eyes was asking if you were okay. “Yes, I'm fine. Just a little sore, is all.” You rubbed your butt to try and soothe the dull ache as you moved to your knees to get closer to the cat. “What’s your name? Huh? And why are you in my room?”
The cat leaned its head down, chin brushing over the name tag. You grabbed at the shiny, round tag, glancing at the cursive little Ella ‘Socks’ Fitzgerald. “Socks? Is that your name? It’s nice to meet you, Socks. I’m Y/N.” It puts a paw forward, showing you its cute little white paw, amongst all the black fur. “How cute are you?” You cautiously reached to pet the cat who did nothing but melt into your touch. You had always wanted a pet, but your mother was very peculiar about it. She’d say that pets were for common people who did common things, we needed more than just a pet. That always struck you as strange. What has changed from then to now? How did Socks come to be in your mothers possession? You could hear your mothers mumbles through the door before she knocked softly.
“Have you seen- ah there she is.” She stepped into your room, gathering up the cat in her arms. “This is the new doctor's cat. He was out of town for a few days and asked me to keep her. She’s cute, right?” You nodded. That explanation made sense, you knew your mother wasn’t one for pets. “So you might see her around every once in a while, whenever he’s out of town. But she's a sweet girl, so don’t be afraid.” She turned as if she was going to leave, but stopped right at the threshold of your dark purple room. “Christopher called. He said to remind you that you owe him a meal. But he said he couldn't make it over to this side of town and would send you the address.” She squinted her eyes as she turned her head towards you. “Don’t you hurt him, you hear me? He’s too pure for this world and he easily gets hurt, even if he does a really good job at hiding it. Just like when you lef-” She stopped herself, a frown forming between her brows. “Just be careful with someone like him. I don’t think he’ll be able to take it if you disappear like that again.”
You tried not to act or look confused. But you sure were. Chris didn’t act any differently towards you yesterday. He didn’t make it seem that you leaving town abruptly like you did last time, was that big of a deal. You were sure it hurt momentarily, hell, it hurt you to leave like you did. But he seemed like he understood your reasons and didn’t hold them against you. He had told you as much at the diner last night. But then again, he and your mother talked more frequently than you and your mother. She had taken it upon herself to adopt him as her own, since his family was a twenty hour plane ride away. She was a nurture, it was in her nature.
There were certain times you felt like you’d have to push your car to your destination. With all the twists and turns and little hills you had to drive through to get to whatever part of the suburbs Christopher lived in, your car was struggling to keep up. You could tell it was overheating. The radio had been on the fritz for over a month now, and now the a/c acted like it wanted to poop out on you. You would rather deal with public transportation than to have no air conditioning with all this hot and humid Louisiana air. Trees lined the streets of the suburbs in far more elegant ways than it did even in the historic garden district. The land surrounding each home seemed to get bigger and bigger the further you went out. Maybe one of Chris’ roommates was rich, because explaining how a teacher could afford this was not computing or connecting inside of your brain.
You carefully watched the numbers that were painted on the curb as well as the mailboxes and houses. You were lucky to see the numbers on the house in your neighborhood, maybe suburban living was just all together different. “140, 141….143.” You stopped your ancient clunker of a car, pressing hard on the squealing brakes, right in front of the sprawling lawn. It felt like the well manicured greenery went on for miles before your eyes noticed the large house in the background. The rounded driveway led right up to the front walkway of the large center hall colonial home. Call you Dorthy, because you sure weren’t in Kansas anymore. The city was lively, there was always something going on, people always on the streets for something or another. But out here you couldn’t hear anything but nature, and that honestly scared you a little bit. You were used to the noise after years of conditioning yourself for it. Even in St. Martinsville, even though it was a smaller town, you lived off the main thoroughfare in an apartment full of different types of people. It made you feel right at home.
The suburbs offered something completely different than what you were used to. It was almost too picturesque. The trees stood still and tall, painting the grass with little dark dots, making it the only thing that blemished this perfect little picture of suburbia. Everything had a place and everything was in its place. Eerie. If anyone asked you. The pretty white siding was accented by the white-washed brick foundation and mossy green shutters and accents. The landscaping added to the top notch curb appeal of this mini-mansion. Now, either Christopher was selling drugs to the parents of the kids he taught or he had run into some major cash since college. Last time you checked, he was still sending money back home to his family, so you doubted he had some random long lost relative that kicked the bucket and transferred beaucoup amounts of cash into his bank account. Yeah, drugs were the only answer.
You reluctantly pulled your fiesta into the drive, almost afraid it would mar the flawless brick pavers. You came to a halt and you put it in park, sitting there with it still on, wondering if for some reason your old friend was playing a trick on you. That he'd have you travel all this way just to pull a “sike, got you!” out of his ass, while he still lived in the city in the same old run-down apartment. It would be appropriate payback for you cutting ties with him in spite of everything you'd been through. He’d been there for you through the thick of it. He was the one holding your hand in the clinic after you’d taken multiple pregnancy tests to confirm your sneaking suspicions. He was there to comfort you when you lost the baby you had just started getting used to the idea of. He was there when that boyfriend left you high and dry. Chris had been your rock, but you had been nothing to him but the worst friend possible. You didn't let your mind drag you down into the same spiral that it took you on last night in front of your moms house, so you pushed past it. You pulled the keys from the ignition and got out, heading up the drive to the door. You fixed your dress, making sure it wasn’t up in the back or tucked into your panties like that one time in middle school.
You couldn’t shake this sense of nervousness you had. What the fuck were you nervous for? It was just Chris. In this mini-mansion in the middle of suburbia, with a few roommates that you didn’t know. What if they sniffed out that you were the trash friend you had made yourself out to be? What if they told Chris that you were no good for him and inveigled him not to pursue a relationship with you? Relationship? How did you get there? Friendship. Yeah, that's what you meant. You didn’t get a chance to work out your worrying thoughts as the door swung open. “Hey.” The force of the wind pulled you forward a little, causing you to stumble. Chris’ hand landed on your shoulder, preventing you from falling over the threshold of his home. He chuckled, “Be careful.” How was it possible that you hadn’t even been here a good ten minutes and you’d already managed to make a fool of yourself? Good job!
“H-hey.” Could this welcome mat go ahead and open a portal to where-the-fuck-ever and swallow you whole already? “I-I was just about to knock. How did-” He pointed to the doorbell camera, before you could even finish the question. Now you felt a little foolish on top of embarrassment. “Right..” He laughed and reached for your hand, tugging you inside the house. You fell into him with a soft thud, chin hitting his chest. You could feel the heat radiating off of him and creeping into your system, slowly making its way to your face. He gave you a soft hug before pulling back and letting you breathe. He closed the door with a slight kick of his foot, letting it close with a soft click.
“Did you have trouble finding it?” He queried, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand as if he was nervous. You glanced at him, taking in the casualness of his outfit. It was somewhere between boyfriend and I might sell drugs to pay for this unnecessarily big house. Dark almost black denim pants, paired with a simple black t-shirt and a black cardigan with white outlines on it, on top. Simple, yet classic and you appreciate his effort. “I know whenever we invite people out, they have a hard time getting here. It often means we have to go find them and have them follow us here. So, at least you have ‘finding my house on your own’ under your belt. You are one of the few.” You felt like you should have been looking around, taking in the foyer of this massive home, but for some odd reason you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Carefully watching the way his lips moved as he talked. The faint blush that painted his cheeks. How he fidgeted from side to side and couldn’t figure out where to put his hands. He really was nervous. The only time you’d see him like this is when he scored a date. But that wasn’t what this was, right? You’d know if this was a date. Right?
“I didn’t have trouble at all. I mean, besides my car acting like it couldn’t find a fuck to get out here, the trip here went without incident.” You sighed and nodded awkwardly. Don’t think of this as a date. It’s just you and your old best friend hanging out at his home while you cook a meal for him. That's it. But what if it wasn’t just that? Your mind had a way of playing tricks on you, making you believe things were true, even if you had little to no evidence of it being that. “This is a-a nice place you got here. I mean, it looks like it's even nicely decorated.” You were desperately trying not to make things awkward, trying to get your brain to not overthink just this once.
“Ah- yeah, Felix’s mom decorated the place for us after she visited a few months ago.” He chuckled, taking a look around himself as if your words triggered the memory and not him living in the space. “I didn’t think it was that bad until she brought it up. She just couldn’t understand how we lived in this nice neighborhood, but the inside of the house looked like squatters lived here or a bunch of pups or something...” He paused, eyes fixed on your hand as if he wanted to reach for it once again. “I- um, I should show you around.” He made a noise affirming to himself that what he said was what he was going to do. He finally tore his eyes away from your hand and turned to give you the tour. “I don’t know if you can tell, but no one comes this way.” He chuckled to himself, “That's probably why it's so spotless out here. I guarantee you, the rest of the house looks exactly how you’d expect it to with eight grown men living here.” Eight? When he said roommates, you assumed two or maybe three. But seven other people lived here? With the same man who turned you down everytime you asked him to be your roommate?
“Eight? Christopher….” You poked his shoulder as he led you out of the foyer, past the stairs and into the living room. There were a couple of guys sitting on the large beat up couch, playing video games. There were a few empty bottles and pizza boxes around, like they had a party and didn't bother cleaning up after. You could smell the nice candles they were burning, probably to cover up the smell of man sweat and whatever that wet dog smell was that lingered under the woodsy candle. “You couldn’t live with me but you have seven roommates and a dog? Fuck your allergies, huh?” He seized up for a second, shoulders tensing up.
“Y-you know why, I couldn't room with you. I told you yesterday.” You kissed your teeth, folding your arms over your chest as you leaned your hip against the kitchen counter. You didn't believe that for a second. Chris had a crush on you? Please. He turned to you, giving you an apologetic smile. “I was being truthful when I told you that. I promise. Living with you would have messed up my feelings toward you even more.. than they already are. I couldn't do that… not when you were going through so much. I just…. I thought it would be best to just be there for you from a distance.” There was something about Chris’ eyes that told you if he was being truthful or just saying things in jest. He was telling you the truth. But you didn't want to think of what that implied.
Christopher looked at something beyond you with wide eyes, so you followed his gaze to find the two roommates that were playing games had completely turned to listen to your conversation. “Uh.. Hi!” You waved awkwardly towards the two young looking men. “I'm Y/N, Chris’ friend fro-” You were cut off by the deepest voice you think you'd ever heard. But you were sure it couldn't have come from the face that had its lips moving. You know the look on your face said everything about how shocked you were. Eyes wide, mouth agape. You shook it off as best you could, in order to not be rude.
“Oh, you're the Y/N he talks about all the time? ” His giggles contrasted with his voice drastically. He got up from his spot on the couch to introduce himself properly, his friend trailing behind him to do the same. “It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Felix.” No wonder his mother didn't want him to live in just any old environment. The boy was beautiful. He had a constellation of freckles dusted across his pretty cheeks and his eyes shined bright light diamonds in the night sky. You wouldn't want someone so pretty to live somewhere that didn't equal his beauty either.
“Hyung did say you were pretty.” The other guy spoke up, his voice cracking on his first word like he hadn't spoken all day. “I can usually bet against his judgment, but he was right this time.” Felix nudged him, but you just laughed, thanking him for his sudden compliment. You appreciated the honesty. “I'm Jeongin.” He extended his hand for you to shake as well and you gladly took it. He was adorable, as well as brutally honest and you liked that. You asked what they did for a living and where they were from, spotting an accent on both. Finding out Felix was also from Sydney like your dear friend, and Jeongin had come to America from South Korea for a cultural exchange program for part of highschool and now college.
They asked you a few questions in return like how exactly you and Chris met and how long had the two of you known each other and you didn't mind answering, you just wondered what exactly Chris had said to them about you. Especially if it wasn't details of how you met. “Alright, I'd like to spend some time with my friend…. alone.” He was pulling things from the refrigerator, setting them up for you. Apparently he couldn't pick you up because he was grabbing things from the local box store to feed his army of roommates. “I want you all to myself for once.” He mumbled the last part but you heard him loud and clear, you just chose not to address it due to this situation already being confusing.
You clear your throat as you wash your hands at the kitchen sink. “Anything in particular you have in mind? What do your roommates want to eat?” He groaned at the mention of his seven other roomies. “I can’t in good conscience just make food for you, Chris. Not when there are other people coming in and out. So, I’ll make a group meal and everyone can have something to eat whenever they feel like.” You started searching the kitchen for utensils and pots that you would need to cook. “Any allergies, besides the one you have when it comes to living with me, that I should know about?” He stuck his tongues in his cheek as he rolled his eyes at you, even with a year apart, he should know you by now. You weren’t going to let this go anytime soon.
“No. No allergies. You know I want your macaroni and cheese. The last time I had some was before you left, so I'm well overdue for a pan.” He picked at the label of one of the spice containers. “I just… I can't ask you to cook for the kids. It's a lot of them and I've already planned to send them out with money to get themselves something to eat for the night. So just don't worry-” You stopped his rambling with a pointed stare. Your hands ceased checking over the ingredients he pulled out to confront him.
“You didn’t ask, and I'm not asking either. Let me cook for you and your friends. It's just one night. It's not like I'm going to become den mother Or something.” You chuckled and shook your head at your own joke, not noticing how your friend stiffened at your words. His ears reddened under the tuft of ear length curls on his head. “Mind being my sous-chef?” He nodded, glad you changed the subject, so he could stop his heart from fluttering about.
It took a few hours, but you, with the help of Chris, put together a full meal. Cheddar jalapeno cornbread, fried catfish, chicken fricassee (for anyone who doesn’t like or eat fish), red beans and rice, macaroni and cheese, stuffed mirlitons, corn and bacon maque choux, and a three bean salad for anyone watching their weight. You would periodically be interrupted, his housemates all floating down to the kitchen one by one to see where the delectable scents were coming from, just to find someone they didn’t know cooking in the biggest gathering place of their home. You met seven different people, with seven distinct personalities that day. Minho, gave you grumpy old man vibes, but he also had a cuteness to him that made you want to pet him like a cat, it was very strange to think about, but the truth nonetheless. You found out that this was a vacation home for Changbin and his family, the third oldest of Chris’ roommates. Why his family was vacationing in the suburbs of New Orleans, you had no idea, but they had to be pretty well off to have several homes in different countries. He was very sweet, but he almost lost a hand when he tried to pinch off your cornbread.
You thought Felix was one of the most beautiful creatures you’d even laid your eyes on, then you met Hyunjin. What kind of beauty distribution was this house blessed with? Every single inhabitant you met here was gorgeous in their own right, Hyunjin took the cake though. You almost chopped off your finger when he walked in, paint stains on his very expensive Celine t-shirt. Who paints in that? You almost got swept up in talks about art and the museums here in Louisiana before Chris rushed him off. You saw Seungmin for a few minutes before he said he had to run off to baseball practice, but the shade he threw at your younger friend, Christopher about his age before he left, left you completely speechless. There was allegedly another person that lived here, but he didn’t come out. Chris said he was a bit introverted and didn’t really talk to new people well. So you took the initiative and made him a plate along with a cup of sweet iced tea, leaving it outside the door that Chris directed you to. You didn’t mind an introvert, you were truthfully one yourself. So, you understood.
By the time you were settled, the sun was starting to set. Chris suggested sitting on the porch to watch the sun blend into the beautiful tree line behind their home. There was a nice cross breeze, thanks to the ceiling fan. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this. It’s one thing to make dinner for you and one other person, but nine? With leftovers?” He chuckled, “That's crazy.” You simply shrugged, it really wasn’t that much of a deal. You volunteered most of your young life, helping in the kitchen and cooking big meals was kind of your thing at this point. “I don’t think I can express how much I’ve missed having you around, Y/N. If it wasn’t for me finding my roommates, I don’t think I would have survived this last year.” Your heart broke for him. You guessed it was true what your mother said before you left, you’d really hurt him. And for what? What happened to bros before hoes? You were a shit friend and you knew that. You’d just have to spend the rest of your life making it up to him in whatever way possible.
“Chris…” You paused, eyes focusing on the purple and pink hue that washed over the trees in the distance before you looked in his eyes to show your sincerity. “I can’t apologize enough. I shouldn’t have abandoned you. Who does that to their best friend? Especially when they have been through everything together.” You reached out and grabbed his hand, without even thinking about it. “I promise I will make it up to you. I promise I won’t be the biggest dick in Louisiana and leave you again. That wasn’t fair to you, I know that.” You played with his fingers, drawing patterns absentmindedly on the red tinted skin on his knuckles, your attention now on his skin. “I’ll be a better friend. I promise you this.” You looked up, catching him staring at you. He smiled, his lopsided dimples doing what they usually did, making you smile with him. He leaned back in his seat, tugging your hand. You knew what that meant, your muscular buff friend wanted to cuddle. You at least owed him that after depriving him of a year's worth of cuddles. Your ex hated how close the two of you were, always complaining about how a man and woman can’t be that close unless one of them has feelings for the other.
You scooted the patio chair you were occupying back and stood to your feet, making your way over to him and taking purchase of his lap, all while he never let your hand go. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, kicking your legs over the armrest. He wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his nose into your neck, taking a big whiff, as if he missed not only the touch of you, but your smell as well. He was affectionate, that was something that just didn't seem to change about him. Even his roommates mentioned his love of cuddles and how apparently no one cuddled him like you. Truthfully, you felt the same about him. That lack of affection in your relationship with your ex didn't dawn on you until you moved away from your hometown. When Chris was out of your life, you finally had time to notice the void he left behind. No sweet words or texts, no hugs or cuddles, no one to go to museums with or to concerts. You were literally alone in your relationship.
Your ex was harsh and mean, he didn't like to hug or kiss especially in public and he just lacked the same kind of warmth Christopher had. You longed for your friend so bad just after a few weeks of being away, that you took half of the two hour drive back home just to see him, before your ex called you back. The longer time went on the more you adjusted to not being touched or feeling loved. But now that you've gotten it back, gotten him back, you won't let go. His affection is like your life blood. You need it. You laced your fingers into the curls along the nap of his neck to lightly scratch his scalp like he liked. His eyes closed upon contact, melting into you as you melted into him. You were fine like this. This was the epitome of comfort to you. You sat like that for what felt like an eternity, his soft breath tickling your neck. The cool night breeze didn’t bother you while being wrapped in the heat of his arms and chest.
He sighed, dragging his nose over the side column of your neck, causing goosebumps to prickle all over your skin. A soft gasp left your lips, but you didn’t move away, prompting him to do it again. You tried your best not to moan as his lips ghosted over the same spot. With a particularly long drag of your nails over his scalp it seemed it was his turn to make a noise. It sent a shiver down your spine, it was somewhere trapped between a moan and a growl. You pulled back, eyes fluttering open to meet him, eyes already staring back at you, just for them to slide to your lips and back up. Did he want to kiss you? You surely wanted to kiss him. His plump lips were so close to yours, all you had to do was lean in a little. Your body unconsciously moves in closer to his, his fingers releasing their grip on your waist to move to your face, first tucking hair behind your ear before finding their place on your cheek.
He opened his mouth to speak, but you shook your head, not wanting to be taken out of the moment by words. He pulled you into him, his lips ghosting your yours before settling into a soft kiss. Was this what kissing your best friend felt like? Like smooth jazz in the park on a sunday afternoon. Like watching the sun set on his porch while in his arms? It was comfortable. Everything was always comfortable with him, always had been. But it wasn’t comfortable in the way that would make you feel no heat from it. No, this kiss would be seared into your memory for a lifetime. It's as if time stands still, it's only you and him in the moment. There are no other beings in the universe but the two of you. He pulls away, but only slightly, his mouth still lingers ever so close to yours. “What, Jisung?” You turned your head as he looked over to the door that hadn’t even opened yet. A fluffy haired, chipmunk-esque boy wrapped in a fleece blanket, popped his head out of the french doors.
“Tha-thank you.” His already plump cheeks became even plumper as he smiled. “For the food and the tea.” He nodded again, eyes darting from you to the man whose lap you were taking up space in. “I’m Jisung, by the way.” You smiled at him and his cheeks seemed to heat up. He was adorable. “Okay… bye.” He ducked back inside and scampered off as if you had scared him away. You hadn’t realized that Christopher made a face behind you at the boy, making him run off and back to his room. You turned back to him, bottom lip between your teeth, holding back the smile that was slowly starting to spread on your face.
“So…”
He laughed, “So?” He caressed your cheek with his thumb, eyes searching your face longingly. He looked as if he had so many things to say, but no way of expressing the abstract concepts his heart was painting. You wished you could dive into his mind and help him find every word he was missing, because you wanted to know what his feelings were. Were you alone in the way you felt? Was this wrong? What would happen to your friendship after that heated kiss you shared on his back porch. His nose bumped yours as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, though your lips were so close. They were calling to him, begging for another kiss to confirm if the first one was real or just a dream. He sighed, leaning his forehead against yours, as if it was an attempt to get himself together. To not wish or ask for more from his long lost best friend.
“I…” He pulled back to look into your eyes, hoping that you would say the words that he longed to hear. “I…. should really get going. It’s getting late…” Beg me to stay. Please. You pleaded to him in your mind, hoping he would get the hesitancy in your voice. Hoping he could read between the lines. “And… It's a long drive back to the city.” It wasn’t. Traffic wouldn’t be heavy this time of night on a saturday it was a thirty minute drive, tops. But he didn’t try to stop you. He just nodded, understanding. He was that type of person. Understanding to a fault.
“Do… you want me…to drive you home? I can take a look at your car tomorrow and make sure it's in tip-top shape for you.” His hand moved from your face to rest gently on your thigh, caressing it over the fabric of your dress. You could feel his warmth seeping into you, even with a barrier in-between. You could see it in his eyes, he wanted you to stay. He didn’t need words to express that. But you weren’t going to stay if he wasn’t going to ask you to. Call it being stubborn or whatever, you just wanted him to say that he wanted you. Wanted you here with him, in his arms, his lips on yours, sharing this moment of discovery together. If he couldn’t give you that, you weren’t going to volunteer your time. You’d done that for years at this point, and quite frankly, you were exhausted. You knew the burden of being alone in your relationship isn’t something that would occur with Chris, but you weren’t going to put yourself out there first. You did too much overthinking for that. You shook your head, looking down at where his hand was now squeezing your hip like he didn’t want to let you go.
“It’s okay. I can just bum a ride with my mom if need be, or call my uncle to chauffeur me around.” You dad’s half brother was always kind to you and willing to do whatever you needed in place of your father. You appreciated that. “You don’t need to worry about me Chris, I can take care of myself.” It was your turn to place a kiss on his cheek, but you made sure to make it to where there was something left to be desired. The kiss lingered, right on the edge of his lips. You brushed your thumb over the spot, whipping the non-existent lipstick you left there. “I had a great time. Thanks for letting me make up that meal you paid for.” You spoke as you tried to stand, his hand on your hip holding you back. You stared at him, just for him to let you go. His fingers slowly brushed over your stomach, before finding rest on the arm of his wrought-iron patio chair. You tried not to feel disappointed, things just weren’t meant to be at this moment. It didn’t mean the moment wouldn’t come. But did you want that? Your rekindled friendship meant everything to you and your bouts with love had all proven to be fruitless, like you’d be alone forever.
You finally stood on your own two feet, fixing your dress that had slightly ridden up from the position you’d been sitting in. He waited until you got to the door before he stood. Your eyes got a glimpse of him adjusting himself, the brief moment you shared clearly having an effect on him. He didn’t touch you again as he guided you through the house, back to the front door. Ever the gentleman, he walked you to your car and held the door open for you. “Next time, it will be just us, I promise.” You turned to look at him. Had he always looked this dazzling in the moonlight? Maybe you hadn’t ever noticed the way his eyes shone in the light. The teenage features he had when you first met were long gone, there was a man standing in front of you now. “Call me when you get home… you never know what kind of creatures lurk in the night.” You chuckled at his warning, no sense that he was serious.
“I’ll text you.” You gave him one last smile, wishing it could be a kiss instead. He returned the smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes like it normally did. At least you weren’t the only one disappointed the night was ending like this. You got in your car and he shut the door for you. You didn’t bother with letting down the window and making this an even longer goodbye. You just cranked up and pulled out of his driveway, looking back just once to see that longing look in his eye as you drove away. Regret, that's what this night brought to you. Regret that you didn’t recognize your feelings for him sooner. Oh, the heartbreak that could have saved you. You made the silent drive out of his subdivision, turning onto the main road, hyper focused on the dark pavement. Outside of the little community, there weren’t too many lights on the highway back. Your headlights were shit, you knew they needed to be cleaned, but they provided a little bit of light, blending with the slight moonlight that wasn’t covered by clouds.
You reached down to cut up the air. With your car sitting in the sun all day, the air-flow had an almost suffocating feel to it. You took your eyes off the road for a brief moment, fingers searching for the right dials to crank up the ac as much as your old beater would allow. The sweet relief of a cool breeze was short lived as you put your eyes back on the road. You slammed on the breaks, seeing the biggest wolf you’d ever seen standing in the middle of it. Your car came to a screeching halt, much harsher than the ones your old hatchback would make on the regular. The wolf looked in your direction, it had to be as tall as your car was, at least. You’d never seen an animal so big up close. You’ve seen people encounter red wolves when taking hikes around here, but they never looked this massive. Bigger than a dog, yes. Bigger than your car and possibly you? No. Plus it just didn’t look like your typical red wolf. You took in its appearance, its white and gray coat and sharp eyes. It was gorgeously terrifying. Its ear twitched and that's when you noticed the most unusual thing about it, besides its size. It had a row of earrings adoring its ear. Hoops to be exact, large to small. Where the heck had you seen that before?
The hell kind of modern wolf was this? How did it even get piercings? Was it alone? You soon got one of your answers with a howl from the treeline. Appearing from the abyss beyond the dark trees was another wolf, this one all black and even bigger. All the hairs on your arm stood up in alarm. What the hell was going on here. You looked away from the menacing one in the trees to the one in the road, making eye contact with the animal. It ran off as the other one advanced towards it, as if it was afraid of the black one. If it took issue with the scary black wolf, you supposed you probably should too. When the coast was clear, you pressed the gas and bolted. You had to get back home and wash this strange encounter from your mind. You checked the mirror a bit further down the road and there it was, black hair shining under the moonlight, red eyes aglow. A frighteningly beautiful sight to behold. You could see a sense of longing in that animal's eyes. Melancholy must have been going around tonight, but you sure as hell weren't about to stick around to find out if that was indeed the case.
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© ✐Channieskies 『MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. Please leave a like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this story.』
#net-member: channieskies#member: bang chan#au: supernatural#au: vampire#au: werewolf#au: witch#genre: smut#genre: angst#genre: supernatural romance#genre: urban fantasy#fic-type: series#rating: 18+
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Literally in love with the creature au and I've been combing through the tags and stuff and I saw you put down Patrick as Fae and I'm soooo interested on how that fits into this urban fantasy you've created both wide scale and like Patrick specifically maybe ...also your art is so so cool..
thank you sm!!
so faes are descendants of muses, there are some region specic types of faes, but oatrick is the regular, most seen type. creatures dont live in like forests or castles or whatever anymore, so even tho ik fae kinda bring up an image of like a forest fairy, theyre really not. more specifics abt patrick are here. patricks parents are also fae folk so he was raised as one since childhood. he got some grief for looking "girly" through out school bcs kids are mean. but at the end of the day the musical predisposition he gets from being fae, really worked out for him so all is good.
oh ywah since i dont think i mentioned that before, fae folk have that reneisance painting type of beauty to them usually, so soft shapes, soft hair, think the birth of venus type of vibe. and that includes the fae men hence the bit of bullying for patrick cuz i like angst 👍
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Pairing: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Words: 2.5k Tags: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Demons, Demon AU, Incubus Jason Todd, Getting Together, Kissing, Psychic Bond, Fluff
Tim doesn’t let Jason touch him.
semi-inspired by SalParadiseLost’s Demon!AU.
the first draft of this was written to comfort myself around a pretty negative anniversary. it helped a little <3 since then it’s just been waiting for me to wrap a cohesive narrative around it, which i think (hope) i’ve finally done.
title comes from work song by hozier, which i’ve listened to a totally normal amount of times <3
Tim doesn’t let Jason touch him.
It’s true he’s not the most overtly tactile person, but he’s open with his affection to those who want it. He soaks up Dick’s hugs like a flower soaks up sunshine. Duke receives his fair share of hugs and shoulder pats—and Damian will take a post patrol fist-bump these days… or a hair ruffle, if he’s in a particularly good mood. Even Bruce gets a hug or, more often, their shoulders and arms end up pressed together as they work on cases.
As for Steph and Cass—well. The three of them seem to disregard the idea of personal space when together, piling atop each other like kittens.
The only exception is… Jason.
He knows he has no right to be bothered by it, especially since outside of that, their relationship is great. When Jason was first integrated into the patrol schedule, Tim was among the first to volunteer to pair with him. He never hesitates to work cases with him or rely on him for back-up—at least, not that Jason has ever seen. He banters with Jason, over comms and over dinner; includes him in conversations, no matter how trivial. He’ll even call or text Jason, randomly, just to chat; to vent about his day or ask Jason’s opinion on some stupid argument he’s having with one of his friends.
They’re close, in all ways except physical.
It’s more than he deserves.
#jaytim#timjay#dcu#tauriawritesfanfic#i also finished a smutfic this morning#valiantly restraining myself from posting that too <3#so full of love i could barely eat#ive been posting so much lately ur all going to get sick of me lmao#im going to go work on prompts now <3
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Blood of Eden // Part Four // Noah Sebastian Urban Fantasy AU Fic
Tropes and Tags: MM, MF, MFM, MFM, instalove, too much sex, tattooed men, polyverse, shapeshifters.
CW: 18+ only minors DNI. Urban Fantasy romance, Smut. Angst. Fluff (ish), Story includes D/S themes, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of drug use and distribution, mentions of prostitution, unprotected sex, male receiving oral sex, female receiving oral sex, cuckolding, P/A sex, P/V sex.
This work below is fictionalized ideas and stories involving real people but does not directly reflect their thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. Please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction.
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"You've helped enough."
She snapped, getting up from the floor.
Noah turned the key in the lock, slowly pushing open her apartment door; she walked under his arm like a bridge, not even bothering to look at him. Watching her cradle her wounded limb to her chest as she walked by, he hung his head shamefully.
"Sorry about that."
He wasn't sure she had heard him as she disappeared into her tiny space to a room down the hall, muttering something to herself the entire way. Noah took notice of the mixed-matched furniture, the dark blue loveseat, the cream couch with burnt orange and dark green pillows, and a glass coffee table sitting in the center of the room on top of a worn argyle green area rug.
Scattered along her walls were pieces of eclectic art, large frames filled with a collage of smiling faces of what he presumed were friends and family; it seemed her life had been busy between trips to the beach, theme parks, nights in the clubs, at the bar, graduations and birthdays. The guilt in his chest made him incapable of looking at the pictures anymore; if she'd died on that roof, he would have been responsible for all those people missing her.
He could hear her cursing under her breath, tape ripping, and then the whimpering. He would have offered more help, but she didn't seem thrilled the first time, so he shut his mouth. Propping himself against the wall next to her kitchen, he had a perfect view down the hall and was in the ideal position to defend her front door.
She came out of the room in a new set of clothes, struggling to put her arm through the sleeve of her khaki hoodie.
"Oh," she sounded disappointed. Her face was pale, barely capable of keeping her eyelids open as she shuffled her way down the hall. "You're still here."
He stood by as she entered her kitchen, searching her counters before opening the fridge. It was practically empty, but she didn't seem bothered. Jolly always kept their fridge stocked with Noah's favorite things; he was always curious when Jolly found the time.
"I need a shot," she mumbled.
"You shouldn't drink. Your blood tastes terrible." Noah offered.
She paused. The fridge door hung open before closing it, slowly shaking her head. She opened a cabinet above her sink and pulled down a large teal plastic box. Noah stepped closer, watching her pull supplies from the old container: a few gauze pads, a wipe, some type of blue elastic, and a syringe full of a neon purple liquid.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Something that's going to make you go away." He could hear the tears in her voice. The beast inside him whimpered. She turned around and jumped back, nearly dropping the syringe on the floor.
"What?" he stepped back, startled by her reaction. She pinched the bridge of her nose.
"It's PTSD. PTSD and hallucinations. It's not real. Go sit down." Noah got the sense she wasn't talking to him. Grabbing the syringe and her supplies, she stepped past, avoiding him, to sit on her couch. Rolling up her sleeve, she expertly secured the elastic around her arm without even opening her eyes. Noah took a seat on the couch next to her, watching as she felt around in the crook of her arm, grabbing the syringe and lining the needle with her pulsing vein.
"Why do you do this?" he asked.
"To survive." she sighed, letting the needle pierce her skin and drain the fluid in her veins. He felt the urge to put his head in her lap, have her stroke his hair, and find ways to comfort her.
Removing the needle and setting it on the table, she teetered a bit before slowly lying on her left side, pulling one of the pillows under her head.
He watched as she fell asleep with little effort, the soft snores evidently meaning she was exhausted. Noah picked up the syringe, unscrewed the needle, and brought the contraption to his nose.
He recoiled instantly at the smell, a toxic earthy scent; this is what is making her blood taste so bad. What could she possibly need it for?
Picking himself off the couch, he wasn't sure what to do, his feet drawn to the box still sitting on the kitchen counter; looking into her box, he saw two other syringes with that purple concoction at the bottom. A small stack of bills was folded in half in the side pocket. Was she dealing or just buying?
Turning to the sleeping beauty on the couch, she looked nothing like the photos on her walls. Sure, her hair was longer, but it was dull; she was obviously curvy, maybe voluptuous; now, as she lay on her couch, she looked like a shell of her former self. Looking at her face, he could tell it had been a while since she smiled. Deep grooves under her eyes from lack of sleep and stress make the lids heavy over her brilliant-colored eyes. As the hours passed and he watched her sleep, the drive and urge to be near her faded; he missed Jolly and wanted to go home.
He dropped her keys on the table, locking her door on his way out. He took a leisurely stroll on his way back home. He wanted to go home, but something was driving him to go back; passing a corner vendor selling tacos, he stopped to pick up a few. Sitting at the makeshift bench, the taco truck had set out, he enjoyed his lunch, taking down the eight tacos without a breath. He was famished between the morning's distractions and a frustrated state of mind; he'd skipped breakfast.
His phone buzzed, and he pulled out the black device; its thin body barely fit in his hand as he slid open the screen to reveal his texts.
Where'd you run off to?
Jolly's text was declamatory. Noah slipped a finger through the ring of his collar. Jolly knew where he was, and he always would. Collars were equipped with the finest tracking system in the city; not even underground trams interfered with their transmission.
Needed a walk. And food.
West 42nd seems like a long walk for food.
Noah hadn't realized how far her apartment was from home; as he turned around, he discovered he couldn't even see the skyscraper through the surrounding buildings. Shocker.
Had to clear my head.
Oh, pet. Was I harsh?
Harsh? No, it was well deserved; Noah disobeyed the rules. Seemed fair he would be punished for it.
No, not at all
Have you been following Rule #3?
Noah could feel the twitch in his pants, the blood rushing between his thighs, reminded of the way he'd been left this morning. Again, Jolly would know if Noah had tried. The collar tracked his vitals, offering a full report to his master every six hours.
Yes, master.
Good boy. Come home. I work late tonight, but I will take care of you.
Noah never got up and tossed away his trash so fast.
Jolly straightened up in his office chair, resting his elbows on the clutter surrounding his desk. It was late. Noah had left on duty hours ago, and their home was quiet. Noah was constantly pacing the house, blasting his music, and maybe even watching TV in two rooms simultaneously. Jolly would often sleep when he was out on duty, but he'd been hard at work tonight. His vision blurred; when he closed his eyes and rubbed the corners, he could still see the spreadsheets of costs, budget, inventory, and plans for the lab experiments all over his desktop screen.
He was sick of working the numbers for the fourth time today. Something wasn't adding up; it hadn't been for two months now; it was minuscule at best, a few hundred here, a few hundred there. But without getting to the root of the problem, it continued to grow, and soon, they would be overrun in debt if it didn't get managed. Against his better judgment, he'd used money from his own account to balance out the difference, hoping it wouldn't bite him in the ass later.
A new window popped up on his screen, a red dot pulsing on a grid he recognized as the city.
Noah.
He opened the new screen, seeing the subtle alert that Noah had left his post. He'd crossed over to the next block and was still going; Jolly clicked open the tab holding the city's main alerts, observing the bank security; no breach. Jolly clicked into Noah's tracker, reviewing his vitals in real-time. He could see his heart rate increasing and his oxygen steady, with no log of wounds.
"Where are you going?" he whispered to himself.
When the red dot stopped at the corner, Jolly pulled up his phone, dialing Jethro's number. Two rings and the security man answered.
"Get me all the angles for 24th and Woodman." Jolly barked, and a few loud tappings on the other end of the line came through the receiver as Jethro worked his magic.
"Sharing."
One large image cut into a grid of four different angles popped up on Jolly's screen. He threw his phone on the desk, lacing his fingers together to rest under his chin as he watched.
She was climbing into a horticulture shop, disappearing behind their chain link fence. And there was Noah at the corner. Patiently sitting on his haunches, his head tilted as he watched her. Jolly punched in a few codes, just a few things that Jethro had taught him. He wasn't a tech man but a quick learner when he needed something and didn't want to bother anyone.
The codes rewound the security footage, zooming in on the girl climbing the fence. Long dark red waves tied back into a ponytail, dark jeans, and a hoodie with a backpack hanging off her shoulders. He watched as she winced each time she used her right arm to scale the fence, rubbing her shoulder as she jumped to the ground again.
"Well, aren't you a pretty one?" Jolly hummed to himself.
He let the footage play out, maybe twenty-five minutes before she was back, scaling the fence again to leap down onto the sidewalk as before.
She lost her footing, falling back onto her ass. Off his haunches in an instant, Noah closed the distance between them; she panicked, scotting herself back till she was caged in by the fence she'd just climbed. Jolly watched as Noah approached her, his head hung low, ears up; when she scrambled again, he lowered onto his front paws, bowing in front of her as he scooted closer.
She remained still, watching Noah with intense eyes. He was close enough that if he lashed out a paw, he'd scratch her face. Instead, he dropped his head into her lap. They stayed still for several minutes, Noah's tail slowly swishing from side to side. Jolly watched as her hand reached up, hesitating over his head.
"That's it, pretty one. He likes his ears scratched."
She obviously didn't hear him, her hand slowly lowering onto his pet's head anyway, touching Noah's ears, giving them a tentative scratch. Jolly watched Noah's vitals, his heart rate lowering and his breathing steady. His tail wagged as he leaned into her touch.
Suddenly, Noah was on his feet, turning to look behind him. Another hunter had come around the corner; Jolly's monitors showed Noah's heart rate skyrocket and his adrenaline surge.
Noah followed his fellow hunter as they scurried back to their posts, turning once to look over his shoulder before darting off. Jolly's eyes remained fixed on the girl still sitting on the ground, zooming in on her face.
"What a mystery you are, sunshine."
#bad omens cult#bad omens#bad omens band#noahsebastian fanfic#joakim jolly karlsson smut#noah sebastian fanfiction#joakim jolly karlsson fic#noah sebastian smut#urban fantasy#dark romance#noah sebastian#noah sebastian fanfic#jolly karlsson#romance#bad omens au#bad omens fanfic#bad omens fic#blood of eden
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