#urban magic au

[cloning-vat-mistake]

Trying to repress my innate desire to give every character i draw a tail. And failing 👍

[horse-head-farms]

au where hypno is a demon!

the human xb summons him not to sell his soul but with a business deal, see, demonic deals work that its a soul in exchange for whatever you want, not necessarily your own soul, but a soul. hypno cannot interact with people except his summoner, but xb can run a business where he asks for “harmless” IOUs from people, getting them to sign a piece of paper which is actually a contract for possession of your soul. since xb is a regular human, it would mean nothing, but with hypno’s help it’s magically binding and they enter a mutually beneficial deal where hypno gets a ridiculous amount of souls and xb is given what he wants by hypno.

their partnership starts off solely as a business one, but as time goes on, they grow closer and also begin to care about the business that was just supposed to be a front for them to gain souls, and once xb gets the power and wealth he originally wanted, they focus their efforts on growing Horsehead Farms as a company. they advertise themselves as a “safer” alternative than dealing directly with demons, giving people whatever they want in exchange for an IOU - not a real soul (it is their real soul, but they don’t tell them that). they manage to become a major competitor to all of hell. since it has a human head of the company, people assume it is more trustworthy. xb and hypno engage in all sorts of evil capitalistic ventures

eventually hypno gets kicked out of hell, a feat no-one thought possible, for ruining every other demons’ livelihood, and is reincarnated into a regular human. xb is investigated by officials due to the scammy and dangerous nature of Horsehead Farms, and in an epic car chase where xb tries to escape, he crashes and dies. for all the human lives he’s ruined by stealing souls, he is sent to hell and becomes a demon. they find eachother, and seeing how there’s still one human and one demon overall, they see no reason to not start their business again

[weathertheraine]

A purrfect match - unacaritafeliz

"Hi Uncle Tettsun!” Nozomi says without moving an inch. “There's a kitty cat under here."

Tetsurou sighs, adjusting the heavy bag on his shoulder. There's been a dramatic increase in the number of cats hiding under homes or dumpsters or in trees lately, ever since the Kozume family's latest announcement. People have been chasing them down, knowing that whoever takes the key from the royal cat's collar will be allowed to marry the crown prince.

[Five times Tetsurou meets a cat, and one time he meets a human instead].

-

I loved beta-ing this fic by the amazing @unacaritafeliz so much I had to draw my favourite scene :DD Thank you Rae! And happy birthday Tettsun!!

[promptsausandshit]

Picture this; #482

When offered a gift the child asked if they could know how long they shall live, the fae smiled and told that they shall live as long as a rose is in bloom.

[kanerallels]

The Kanera fae au I'm writing just took a decidedly Gilmore Girls-ish turn, stand by for updates

[sabraeal]

Brewed With Intent, Part 3

[Read on AO3]

“You’re sure that you feel all right?” Shidan stoops— not far, but enough— to stare Obi right in the eyes, mouth furrowed deep into its concern corners. It’s habit to brace, to wait for her inevitable sympathetic flinch when that otherworldly something drives them back—

But it never comes. Shidan holds his gaze— a second, then two, then suddenly half a minute’s passed without a single shudder— and asks, “No itching or…hm…burning?”

Pencil-thin brows hike right up to his hairline, rumpling the scar that cuts across beneath it, both nothing and everything like Shirayuki had imagined. “Are those symptoms I should be worrying about, Doc?”

“Not a doctor,” Shidan reminds him absently, “and no.”

“What?” Obi sputters out. “Then why would you ask—?”

“The last time someone tried to cast something on you, you turned into a human bonfire.” Shidan levels a stare at him so flat she could skip rocks across it. “Taking some measure of caution seems prudent.”

It’s riveting to watch his mouth work, to see all the muscles twisting together to shape words that never quite manage to be more than a dissatisfied grunt. “Well, not a human one.”

The glare Shidan gives him could hang pictures. “Why don’t you go take a breather here in the back? Just in case. Last thing I need is a customer to spontaneously combust on East Broadway.”

“Please, I’m civilized, I’d make it to at least Belmont.”

“I still think it’ll be some frog action.” Yuzuri bumps the stock room door open with her hip, a box of vacuum-sealed herb packets teetering in her arms. “Or maybe a small mammal. I don’t know what your biology would do with something cold-blooded.”

“Best not to find out.” Suzu turns too-earnest eyes to him. “I think you’d make a handsome stoat.”

Obi presses a hand to his chest, shirt rumpling enough to bare even more bronze beneath, and ah, two buttons have never seemed so indecent. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Hey!” A cardboard corner lodges under his sternum in protest. “I called you hot!”

“Yeah, but that’s just facts.” Obi’s palm shoves against one flat side, angling her back toward the aisles. “Suzu’s showing some imagination. A little faith, if you will.”

“Really? You’re gonna lecture me about moralism? A de—?”

“How long should do you think we should wait?” Shirayuki asks, if only to give her an excuse to do something besides letting her eyes trace the length of his cheekbones another dozen times. “I was hoping to do some of my rounds today if, er…”

It would be insensitive to say, if Obi doesn’t explode on them. Though it’s certainly not as career limiting for him as it would be for, say, either her or Ryuu, the whole business with Haki had still come as a bit of a blow. Even now his hair hasn’t fully grown back in, just a thick forest of black bristle he complains is at the whim of his pillow, even though Shirayuki’s half sure she’s never seen him use one.

Shirayuki casts a curious glance at the hand he runs through it, ignoring the itching of her own palms. Whatever he's doing, it’s clearly working for him.

“Can’t say for sure.” Shidan scratches at his goatee, giving Obi a squint for good measure, almost as if he could see the inner workings of the charm over him, like a clock maker inspects gears on a timepiece. “Fifteen minutes?

“Oh, like one of those vaccines things, right?” Obi doesn’t sit so much as free fall into the bean bag chair in Shidan’s office, long legs stretched across the carpet. “Miss made me wait with her once.”

Yuzuri huffs as she heads toward the shop, one ear flicking. “It’s bullshit that you can’t get sick. Totally unfair. Proof that the universe has its fucking favorites, to be honest.”

“Don’t blame me.” He hooks his hands behind his head, eyes at half-mast, positively lounging. She catches herself mid-star, her eyes nearly raking across ever leather and denim clad inch. And especially the few inches with neither. “Blame— what’s it you guys call it? Speciation? Different biology.”

“Well, some of it has to be the same,” Suzu muses, chin in hand. “You know, for, uh” —he stutters under Obi’s sudden glare— “reasons.”

Shirayuki blinks. “Re—?”

“All right, I think we’ve done more than enough agitation testing,” Shidan grunts, getting to his feet. “Let’s let the guy catch his breath. Give him some space.”

“To combust? If he’s going to do that, a few feet won’t really—”

“Suzu!” Yuzuri stamps her foot just outside the office, ears pulled so low they practically disappear into her hair. “You can’t just say someone is going to explode.”

“Why?” He blinks, craning his neck down to stare. “It’s not like it’ll hurt him.”

“Still. It’s rude!” The graphic part of his tee crumples beneath her fist as she reaches out and tugs, yanking all six foot two of him right off his feet. “Now just get over here already. The last thing I need is you turning into a pile of ash and making more work for me.”

Shidan sighs, running a hand through his already tousled thatch of hair. “Well, that’s the peanut gallery. Shirayuki…?”

“I’ll stay.” It’s supposed to sound supportive, stalwart, but with the heat that licks up her neck, tickling at the apples of her cheeks, she doubts it makes the mark. “Just in case.”

“Your funer—” Shidan coughs, hand scraping over his stubble— “choice.”

“Don’t worry, doc,” Obi hums, head tilted back, skin stretched taut enough she can see his throat bob as he swallows. “This isn’t Miss’s first rodeo. She can handle anything my biology can throw at her.”

Shidan hums, unconvinced. “Right, well, there is a fire extinguisher under the counter. If you need it.”

“I don’t think we will, that sort of reaction tends to be, er…instantaneous.” Shirayuki angles her most grateful smile up at him. “Thank you though. Not just for the, er, information. But everything.”

His shoulders hike up by his ears, as allergic to gratitude as every other master practitioner she’s met. At least he isn’t trying to rush her out the door the way Lata did every time he caught a whiff of sincerity on her. “Don’t mention it.”

It’s hardly a long walk from his desk to the door, but it’s enough steps to see how he’s favoring one side, like Grandpa did whenever the weather got too wet out. “I could brew you something for that, if you wanted.”

His hand hooks on the jamb, holding him steady as he turns a furrowed brow toward her. “For what?”

“Your limp.”

It’s astounding how quickly the red rockets up his neck, not even taking a pause at his cheeks, just barreling up from his collar until it crashes against his hairline. “N-no!” He coughs again, hand scrubbing over his face. “I mean— it’s nothing. Works itself out in time. Just…worry about yourselves.”

It’s in her nature to gently insist, to wheedle curmudgeons around to a show of kindness, but she barely has time to take in a breath before the door slams behind him. Hard enough that it rattles the walls, setting more than a few of his pictures askew.

“Well,” she hums, reaching over to fix one within arm’s reach. “That seems a little unnecessary.”

“Miss.”

There’s no reason for Obi's mouth to hitch like that, or for his arresting eyes to soften, overflowing with affection she can appreciate every ounce of now that instinct is no longer blaring alarm in her ears. And yet, here he is, too-sharp canines dinting his lower lip, shoulders practically shivering as he bites back his snickers. Poorly, she might add.

It doesn’t make the picture of it any less pretty. And it certainly doesn’t do anything to discourage her staring at him, that’s for sure.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” she murmurs, her own cheeks flushed as she turns them away. “He’s injured! I was just trying to be helpful. That’s hardly a reason to get so flustered…”

“Miss.” The word practically squeaks out of him, laughter slipping out behind it. “How do you think he got that limp?”

“How would I…?”

It’s the pity that gets her, just the slightest sliver hidden behind the fondness in his eyes, the same kind Yuzuri gives her when she’s a little slow to understand something adult, and—

“Oh.” There'd been marks on Garrack’s neck, so fresh, only a handful purpled and even less yellowed. And a discount that she’d been so certain she earned them. “Oh.”

“There we go,” Obi hums, settling deeper into the bean bag. “Now you’ve got it.”

*

It’s only fifteen minutes— less time than it takes Ryuu to complete the sudoku in the paper, or Obi takes to make a sandwich— and yet every second of it is interminable, stretching by with all the speed of molasses down a bottle’s neck. No wonder Obi is always acting like he’s about to jump out of his skin at the library.

But this isn’t just an outright allergy to sitting stationary— no, Shirayuki has extenuating circumstances. The kind that make her wonder if that leather is as touchable as it looks.

“That bad, hm?”

Her eyes dart up, disrupted from the corners they’d been sneaking their surreptitious glances. His are still closed, head tilted back on his hands, like he’d be more at home with a hammock at his back than a bean bag, mojito within arm's reach. Only his smile’s strained, more teeth than teasing, braced for a blow. “Huh?”

“You know…” One large hand waggles over him, a sliver of gold peeking through his eyelashes. “The new look.”

Is it? That’s what she’d like to ask— if when he looks in the mirror, this is the face he sees, or whether Shidan’s charms have polished the edges off they way they’ve erased the extra eyelid. If this is just a human face plastered over a more eldritch one, more palatable to the small animal that is her brain, or what had been hiding beneath that miasma all along, waiting for a heart stout enough to be seen.

Instead she watches his eyelashes splay over the golden arch of his cheekbone and feels her mouth go inexplicably dry. “N-no! Yuzuri’s right. It’s, um…”

“Hot?” he offers, entirely too eager. Even rolls up to his side, one arm angled behind his head, like one of those pin-ups the Laxdo dorm boys had hurried to take down from the wall the last time she stopped by.

“Attractive,” she allows, ignoring the insufferable angle his smirk slants itself to. “You’ll certainly draw attention while we’re out.”

“Attractive.” He tests the word, savors it, and apparently likes the taste. “But am I attracting you, Miss?”

It’s mortifying how quickly her skin goes hot, a slight flush to lobster red in seconds. “Obi!”

“Kidding, kidding!” His hand fly up, but she’s in no mood to be placated, not when they tremble at the same frequency as his laugh. “All this being perceived— it’s going straight to my head.”

He deserves every ounce the scowl she gives him, gaining gravitas as it ramps over the forbidding fold of her arms. “Be that as it may, it’s still not very nice to tease! Especially when you’re not even interested in the answer.”

“I wonder.” There’s a strange set to his smile, like his mouth doesn’t quite fit on his face, like it belongs to a different man entirely— but it’s gone as quick as it arrived, disappearing behind what she’s quickly coming to realize is his usual grin. “So where to next, Miss? After the Doc gives me a clean bill of health, of course.”

There’s a plan, a list, but— but he stretches. Palms press flat to the wall behind him, exaggerating the arch of his back, and— and his shirt rolls up, baring the barest sliver of bronze right above his waistband. A dusting of dusky hair peeks above the brass button, trailing down to parts unknown, and her fingers itch, wanting to know it’s as silky as it looks, or— “I don’t know.”

He blinks, gold making his eyes all the more owlish. “You don’t know?”

“Ah, I mean…” She shakes her head, as if percussive force might knock her tongue loose of its tangle. “There’s a few places…that have put out requests, I mean! And I thought we might have, um…”

This isn’t working. Whatever this is— she’s got to get a hold of herself. With a steeling breath, she slaps her cheeks, hard enough to feel the sting.

Obi’s arches a narrow brow. “You okay there, Miss?”

“Yes, sure.” Barely. “There’s no requests for urgent consult, so I thought head toward the market first and maybe make out way n—”

“The market? You mean…” A groan really should looks so good “Don’t tell me, we’re going to the harbor.”

*

“What”— Kihal hooks her hands over her hips, thunderous as any squall over the Sound— “is that?”

Shirayuki blinks, tracing the finger she points right over her shoulder to where Obi lounges against the pier, jacket slung over his shoulder. It’s brisk this close to the water, but with the temperature Obi runs at, anything more than short sleeves is for aesthetic. Certainly no cause for alarm, but today—

Well, today she can see how the seam of his sleeve strains around his bicep, and the way his torso tapers right down to his waist, practically a triangle—

She swallows. “Obi’s trying out a charm Shidan made him.”

“Demon boy?” Kihal makes a disgruntled squeak back in her throat, half-threatening, half-cute, and all annoyed. “Oh, I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all.”

Shirayuki watches him unfurl from his lean, hips rolling as he saunters toward them, and can’t help but think, get in line.

[msfcatlover]

Revenant!Jason being on watch for some reason (stakeout? disaster scenario? dangerous pocket-dimension?) with one of his family members. They wake up the next morning, and are like, “WTF, Jay, why didn’t you wake me up for my shift?!”

Jason: “You needed your sleep.”

(Let’s say) Dick: “So do you! What happens when you crash, Jay? What happens if you get too tired and miss something? We sleep in shifts for a reason!”

Jason: “No point when I don’t need sleep.”

Dick: “What?”

Jason: “Honestly, I don’t even think I can anymore.”

Dick: “What?!?”

Jason: “Dickie. I’m dead.

Jason: “I haven’t slept since I crawled out of my grave.”

Dick: “Well that’s... useful?”

Jason, grinning: “Do you have any idea how much reading I’ve caught up on since coming back? Completely makes up for what I missed during my dirt nap.”

Dick: “Good for you, you giant nerd. Moving on...”

[topioswords]

Dramatis Personae

A short introduction to the key cast of most of my assorted bits of writings.

Noir: Coffee addicted, fairly snarky ordinary guy who's prone to getting into trouble. He's hard to get close to, but underneath his bad attitude and even worse similes Noir wants people he cares about to be safe and happy. Letting himself care is the hard part. He's got a talent for finding and organizing info digitally. Noir mostly makes a meager life selling said skills, but it lands him in hot water about as often as it earns him a not so legal paycheck.

Main variants: Urban fantasy Human (Fey AU) who'd like people to stop kidnapping him and also these headaches to stop being an issue. Is a magic void and tends to weaken magic used near him. Robot version who used to work at a museum but ran off rather than be scrapped. Masking as human and doing a good job of it. If only he wasn't so incredibly bad at self repair.

Character tag: Noir Needs Friends

BB: Big, Unnerving, and has a thing with messing with people's memories unless they like you... and BB doesn't like a whole lot of people. To BB others are mostly inconsequential, sometimes they're toys, rarely they're worth much respect or even interaction. But they sure have taken a keen interest in Noir and whatever he's getting up to.

Main variants: Urban fantasy Fey (Fey AU) If you ask other fey, BB is their version of a dumb blonde... only BB has some eerie memory altering skills and some deep devotions on top of the figurative Barbie package.They might not get or care for the usual fey trickery, but they can and will keep their promises and if you get in the way of somebody they care about, well... you probably won't remember when they're done with you. Even if you survive the encounter. Robot version is a very dubiously legal angled monstrosity in matte black that works for a totally not mob style corporation doing... something.... better not ask. Doesn't see any issues in on the fly altering other bots' memories for their own use and amusement. Being very new and shiny tech and very badly socialized makes for a distressing combo for most others who get near them.

Character tag: BB is Bad

Zellus: Mushroom infused existential nightmare who'd like everybody to see past the mushroom part. Also they'd like you to shut up with the zombie jokes, they're very much alive.

Main variants: Urban fantasy Fey (Fey AU) when you're semi-stuck in the same area you make do. And Zellus' making do is picking up stray people with weird semi-magical issues and cooking up homegrown mushroom treatments. They trade in gossip mostly to starve off the loneliness. It's not easy having a social life when most people react like you're infections when they figure out what you are. Robot Zellus has settled down, spending most of their time with assorted mushroom infected animal bots. Their whole organic and robot mix creeps out robots and humans alike, so they don't get a whole lot of visitors, but they appreciate whoever stops by for a (nice) chat.

Character tag: Zellus Grows On You

[thequalityrunaway]

Knight Bonds

Thequalityrunaway

Summary:

Alternative title: My Familiar keeps sneaking into your room to cuddle ... Cloud Strife has failed his second match with a Knight meant to protect him, rather spectacularly. While he despondantly waits for his third match, struggles to cope with his own magic, and deals with the hell that is high school, his familiar takes matters into her own paws ... Never send a human do a familiar's job. https://archiveofourown.org/works/49842088

[handsfreepizza]

Some new drawings of an old character.

Left was a warm up in the pallete and then the right was playing with effects and new brushes .

I think I’m going to rebuild them entirely and play them soon!

[cloning-vat-mistake]

These aren't final but they've been sitting around in my images for way too long so I thought I ought to post them. Enjoy some lore abt these guys

[blarrghe]

head filled with new and angstier modern au pavellan thoughts

[enstarsurbanfantasy]

ALKALOID Introduction - POV Aira

[Setting: Seisoukan, during Troublemakers, after helping Ra*bits and before meeting Crazy:B]

Hiiro, as it turns out, knows a lot about the supernatural community and simultaneously nothing at all.

"The village chief is in charge of appeasing the kamuy and sending them back to their realm, so I learned from nii-san. Our family has historically been able to see them, but nii-san does a lot more clearly than I do."

"We call that clear-sight," Aira says. They're both on Hiiro's bed, Aira sprawled over the edge of the mattress while Hiiro sits with perfect posture. Kazehaya-senpai has his bad knee elevated on his own bottom bunk while Ayase-senpai hunches over with a pillow on the floor, leaning on the side of his and Kazehaya-senpai's bunk in a pose that looks incredibly uncomfortable. "There are different degrees of it depending on people's sensitivity to magic and dimension boundaries, but most people can only see the human world. With clear-sight, humans are able to see through illusions and interact with the spiritual planes."

"You seem to know a lot about magic, Aira-san," Tatsumi-senpai's voice is warm, and Aira blushes.

"My father's family runs a shrine, so I grew up learning about it. But I take after my mother, soooo..." he trails off, wondering whether to share that piece of information.

"You're a snake spirit, right?"

Aira yelps, twisting his back and neck to face Hiiro in a move that would be impossible for a human. "How the hell--"

Hiiro tilts his head, that wide-eyed look on his face saying I have no idea what social norms in the city are. He gestures to Aira's body. "You just... feel like a snake. And I can see an afterimage of snake scales on you when you move."

And that would be the clear-sight, Aira sighs, resigned to Hiiro being able to see though all of his secrets. If Hiiro can see the true nature of someone on their skin, how much can Rinne Amagi?

"I'm a Melusine. My mother's entire family is, and the magic from my father's line-- they're descended from Takeminakata-- made it so that there was enough for me to manifest as a full-blood. "

"A Melusine," Tatsumi-senpai says, voice curling around the word like he's tasting it. "I don't know that one."

Everyone's eyes are on him now, and Aira wants to turn into his snake form and crawl into a pillowcase to avoid them. "They're from Europe... we're spirits of fresh water. Our top half is human and our bottom half is a snake, but we can use a fully human or snake form at will."

Oh, he really might succumb to temptation and hide in a blanket or something. Aira desperately reaches for something to divert the train of conversation.

"M-Mayo-san, you're magical too, right?"

Ayase-senpai squeaks. "Yeah... but I don't really want to talk about it..." he trails off into mumbles, and while Aira relates, it really doesn't help him avoid the incredibly embarrassing conversation. He's curious now though. What kind of creature is Ayase-senpai?

There's a lull, everyone deciding not to press, and Aira is just about to ask about Tatsumi-senpai's history when Hiiro's cell phone pings, and he announces: "It's from Tenshouin-senpai, about the DreFes," and everyone is distracted. This is their last chance to be idols!

[j-a-nuary]

Carrier

Sonar

<< first | previous | masterlist | next >>

Stray Kids Urban fantasy AU (feat. Ateez from time to time) | A “carrier service” exists, seemingly only to get people (usually women) home safe after the trains stop running.

Heavy on bad boys with hearts of… some kind of shiny metal, probably.

Warnings: smutty stuff [fingering (f rec), the inherent eroticism of vampires], toxic masculinity but make it mystical.

=====

Hyunjin could not believe his luck. His day to day, or - more accurately - night to night, searches for a willing donor weren't exactly difficult. Even before his little accident, he hadn't had much trouble picking up. But afterwards? He could convince anyone of anything.

Not that he liked to. He was a monster, but he wasn't completely without morals. He avoided using his tricks unless it was absolutely necessary.

Sure, the standard he held himself to was low, but at least it existed.

Which made the current situation all the better.

He didn't know why the woman under his hands and against his body was so hot, or why she smelled so strongly of roses, but it just made him all the more hungry.

He groaned as her fingers slid into his hair, tugging slightly as the two of them moved approximately in time with the beat of the dance mix blaring through the club.

Hyunjin bent forward, pressing his lips against her neck. She rewarded him with a stuttered curse. Smiling into her skin, he let his hands slide down her sides, toying with the hem of her top.

"I just want to eat you up," he murmured.

He felt the vibration of her moan more than he heard it. It made him press himself more firmly against her. He slipped one hand under her top, splaying his fingers out to feel more of her just a little too hot skin. Carefully, he hooked his pinky into her waistband.

Maybe that's what made her start trembling. Or maybe it was his other hand, now cupping her chin, pressing just ever so lightly against her throat.

"Will you let me?" Hyunjin asked, nipping at the skin of her neck. He was drowning in her floral smell now, tasting roses and vanilla on her skin.

She nodded. More than that, she let one of her hands fall to his wrist, pushing his lower hand even further downwards.

Hyunjin groaned again, willingly allowing her to guide his hand.

"Right here sweetheart? You want me to take you in front of all these people?"

She was practically throwing herself at him, but he was begging for it anyway.

"Let's go somewhere a little more private," Hyunjin suggested.

It wasn't that he didn't like the idea of showing off. He just didn't want any interruptions or witnesses.

"Where?" She asked, sounding breathless.

"Follow me sweet thing."

=====

"Give me something Seungmin!"

Felix was scanning the crowd inside Sonar. He cursed his inability to hone in on scents like Jisung or Changbin.

His talents were a little more… ephemeral and vague. Given that Spring was only just starting, he was nowhere near the top of his game. Still, he could sense that something was off.

"Do you know how many fucking people are in that club right now? Give me a minute for christ's sake."

Seungmin was right. Felix knew he was right. He took a deep breath, trusting the nerd on the other end of the phone call to do his thing.

Still, he watched the crowd intently. Taking another deep breath, he shut his eyes and desperately tried to remember what she had been wearing.

He cursed his stunted senses. Compared to the others, he was the worst option to track someone down. He had just wanted to take a little bit of the heat off of Jisung, and no way in hell was he about to involve Changbin.

"Seungmin, I need something. I don't see her anywhere."

"I am trying, okay?"

Felix groaned. He didn't know why or how, but he was certain that he needed to get some sort of explanation to Little Turtle tonight. If not tonight, then certainly before she had to call for a carrier again.

"God damn it, I'm such a fucking idiot!"

"What's up?" Seungmin asked.

"Her phone number is literally in the system," something else occurred to Felix as he spoke, "and you have the ring map!"

"That only works if she's wearing it," Seungmin pointed out.

"Check it anyway. And send me her number."

Felix disconnected the call, and waited.

=====

Tempawan allowed herself to be led out of a side exit. Had she not been so focused on the man leading the way, she would have noticed the “authorized personnel only" sign.

But at the moment, she was shameless. In the purest form of the word: without shame. She knew that relief from her strange fever was only moments away.

She quickened her pace just a bit when he pushed the door open. Surging forward, she pressed her lips against his.

They stumbled out, into the back alleyway, lips and limbs intertwining further with each passing moment.

"I don't know how adventurous you usually are," Hyunjin mumbled against her lips, "but I am really tired of waiting, sweetheart."

"Then don't wait."

Hyunjin didn't typically like mixing food with pleasure. It wasn't really his style. It felt childish to him in some way.

But when the meal was so eager, who was he to deny that hedonistic streak?

"Then don't wait” the words echoed in his brain.

Hyunjin groaned, biting at her lip in another kiss before speaking up.

"Are you sure? I'll have you right here if you let me."

"Fuck," she panted, losing herself in the way his fingers were slowly sliding up her thigh, under her skirt, "please. Give me everything."

=====

“Pick up pick up pick… fuck!” Felix cursed at the pre-recorded voicemail greeting. It hadn’t even rang. Desperate for help, he decided to call in back-up.

At least this call rang. It was quickly answered as well.

“Hey,” Jisung sounded so casual it made Felix a little jealous, “how’d the talk go?”

“I can’t find her.”

There was a beat of silence while Jisung thought of something suitably vague to say.

“I mean it’s a big place…”

Felix huffed, shaking his head.

“It feels wrong. Do you think you could come and… you know,” he hated to lean on stereotypes, but here he was, “smell her?”

“How does it feel wrong? What’s going on?”

Felix felt like crying. Fighting down the frustrated tears that threatened to well up in his eyes, he cleared his throat.

“I don’t know! I just…" he took a breath, "it feels wrong. Something is wrong and I don’t know what it is. I don't know how to help.”

“Woah, hey,” Jisung tried his best to sound comforting, “don’t worry about it, okay? I’m on my way. Five minutes, okay?”

“Okay.”

Felix didn’t waste any time making his third call.

“Please tell me you have literally anything for me, Seungmin.”

“Her phone is dead,” Seungmin responded, “last pinged location was inside Sonar. And it looks like she isn’t wearing the ring.”

“Fucking hell!”

Seungmin kept quiet. Felix was typically the calm one. The one who could get the others to relax. Seungmin had never seen, or rather, heard him like this before.

Felix took deep breaths, trying to recompose himself before speaking again.

“Listen, pretend I’m Chan for a second, okay?”

“Okaaayyy?”

“Fucking find her,” he spat out the words, “and get me that fucking ring.”

"How am I suppo-"

Felix hung up on Seungmin.

=====

"You're so wet for me sweetheart."

Hyunjin had Tempawan facing the wall, one hand braced against the bricks, the other two digits deep inside her.

"Please," she begged, trying to keep somewhat quiet, "please please please please…"

"Don't you worry sweetness," Hyunjin whispered into her ear, "I'll give you everything you need."

Her knees buckled. Despite her increased appetite as of late, this was different. This man somehow was making her a complete mess. The others were usually so busy chasing their own release that she often left feeling unsatisfied, even as her temperature evened out.

But this man…

"Fuck," she whimpered, "I'm… please…"

"You're okay sweet girl," his voice dripped directly into her ear, "just cum once before we really start."

It didn't take much longer for exactly that to happen. Hyunjin felt it all. The tightness around his fingers, the jerk of her body against his. He bit his lip, enjoying the sounds she made as she slammed her hands against the bricks in front of them.

"You did so well," he kissed her shoulder, letting her catch her breath, "so good for me sweetheart."

Tempawan lifted her head, tilting back to settle the back of her head into the crook of his neck. She heard him groan, pressing his lips against her own neck.

"Can you keep going, sweetness?"

"Yes," she was still breathing heavily, but she needed more to satisfy the icy feeling under her skin, "please…"

"Perfect," he withdrew his hand from under her skirt. Carefully, not wanting to leave any residue on the outside of her clothing, he lifted it to his lips.

Tempawan turned her head and watched, a little in awe of the way he was enjoying himself. The way he was enjoying her.

"Good god sweetheart," he whispered after sucking his fingers clean, "did you know you taste like vanilla ice cream?"

And roses, he thought to himself.

"Are you willing to let me have more of you, sweet girl?"

"Please," she was willing to beg for it if she had to, but she suspected that she didn't.

Hyunjin gripped her waist, turning her now to face him.

"What a goddess you are," Hyunjin whispered. "Do you mind just a bit more foreplay, sweetness? I'm a bit of a biter."

"It's fine," she breathed, tensely waiting to feel him. "Bite as hard as you like. I just need you t- fuck."

He didn't need to be told twice. Leaning forward, he entered her, in more ways than one. In the only way that truly matters to a vampire, he entered her. Feeling the shock run through her body, he groaned as he felt her tighten around him.

Dipping his fingers back under her skirt, he felt her twitch around his digits again. Clamping onto her shoulder, his fangs broke her skin easily. He didn't know which sensation was more responsible for how she jerked against him.

At first, it was perfect. Roses and vanilla beans, silk and nectar.

Then something hit Hyunjin’s throat. A grassy taste that he knew was not hers.

That’s fine, he thought, I’m not the arbiter of her relationships.

=====

Jisung pushed through the crowd, tracing the faint trail of familiar mangosteen and… something less familiar, like a minty, fruity cocktail.

Chan followed close behind.

Jisung had tried to create a good enough excuse to stop Chan from coming along, but given the choice between Chan and Changbin, this had seemed like the better option.

Felix brought up the rear, feeling knots in his stomach as they moved. Despite the crush of bodies, there was a distinct chill that Felix felt the further they walked.

Jisung paused, reorienting himself. He knew what it looked like, but he didn’t care. There was something about that minty scent that was familiar, and it made him nervous.

“What’s wrong?” Chan asked as Jisung swiveled his head, trying to catch the direction of the smell.

“There’s a lot going on just…” Jisung closed his eyes, concentrating. A second later, his eyes opened again, shining a brighter yellowish color, “that way.”

=====

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

Hyunjin’s eyes opened, lifting to see Jisung staring at him and Tempawan. He couldn’t help but smile, teeth still buried into her neck.

Then he saw Chan and Felix.

Quickly, he released his jaw’s grip on her.

“It’s just a hickey,” he whispered into Tempawan’s ear as he maneuvered behind her to face the others. “So you’re the one she belongs to, huh?”

She giggled, then shook her head. Eyes landing on Jisung, she smiled slowly. She felt incredibly warm and… snuggly? God I’d love a nap.

“You’re a real… fuck…”

Her knees buckled.

“Felix!” Chan called.

“On it!”

Jisung could have reached her first, but he was busy being held back by Chan. Hyunjin watched the four of them. Felix, tending to Tempawan with the knowledge of a field medic and the bedside manner of a therapist. Chan, barely struggling to hold back an increasingly feral Jisung. Jisung, working himself up and ranting.

“That’s the motherfucker Chan! I should have killed him! Let me the fuck go!”

“Not happening.”

Hyunjin could have left, but the fact that Chan was there had piqued his interest enough to stick around. For now at least.

“If it makes you feel better,” Hyunjin offered, “I wasn’t planning on killing her.”

“You could have fooled me,” Felix muttered before turning towards Chan and Jisung, “we need to get her to Minho.”

“I will end you!” Jisung was tearing at Chan’s hand. Literally, he could feel it in his bones. The ache was starting. His jaw ached with the slow elongation, and his voice was getting hoarse and deeper. “Let me go!”

“No,” Chan said, paying no attention to the claws digging into his skin. Readjusting his grip on Jisung, he locked the slowly transforming man against himself with one arm. Chan dug his other hand into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. He pulled out his cell phone.

"I think I'll just be going," Hyunjin nervously chuckled and started shuffling backwards.

Chan didn’t look up as he searched through his recent calls.

"Lix, can yo-" 

"Got it," the blonde responded. He slammed a hand against the ground and his eyes fluttered shut.

Call Hyunjin a cat, because he was certain that one day his curiosity would get him killed. He already knew what Jisung was, and he had an idea about Chan. But the soft looking blonde one? He had no clue.

He didn't even notice the tendrils of roots that were winding around his ankles. Not until they constricted, causing him to lose his balance.

"You need to get over here…" Chan spoke into his phone, "make an excuse… Jisung needs your pills…"

To his credit, Jisung was still giving his all to get out of Chan's grip. He was well into the non-verbal stage now. His hands were closer to paws, which actually made it easier for Chan to hold him.

"Sonar, back alley… oh, give yourself an extra dose on your way… LT is here."

He dropped the phone back into his pocket.

"Felix? Can you keep an eye on Jisung?"

=====

Changbin stood up, sighing dramatically. To all the world, he looked like a man who had been called in to do inventory. Internally, he was panicking.

"Seems like they need an extra hand," he made the excuse easily enough. Half-truths were simple like that.

Hongjoong, who would describe himself as currently being in his cups, let out an annoyed sound.

"Sure, just take all the eye-candy away. First that girl, then Felix, now Bin."

"Hyung…" Mingi groaned.

"Sorry man," Changbin chuckled, "sounds pretty serious though."

Yunho stood as well, much to Seonghwa's annoyance.

"You need an extra hand?"

Changbin shook his head, pulling his coat on.

"No, nothing like that," he pulled out his wallet and dropped some bills on the table, "we've got a system. Anyway, that should cover a few rounds. Might be back later."

Changbin forced himself to move casually as he left.

"Mingi," Seonghwa spoke softly, just loud enough to get the younger man's attention, "how do you feel about espionage?"

=====

Chan had let Hyunjin go. Or rather, Chan had made Felix let him go. Or rather, Felix had begrudgingly followed Chan’s order to let him go. Hyunjin nervously kept an eye on the wolf that was now tangled in city-toughened roots as Chan led him to the open end of the alley.

"It seems like you know one of my boys."

It wasn't phrased as a question, but Hyunjin knew when he was being interrogated.

"Know is a strong word," Hyunjin explained, "we run into each from time to time."

Chan tilted his head, looking as unbothered as anything. He reached into his jacket again, this time pulling out a simple black cigarette case.

Hyunjin noted the silver reinforcements on the corners of the case. Old, probably expensive when it was made, and even more so now.

Hyunjin glanced up and down the alley, wondering how far he would make it if he made a run for it.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Chan interrupted his thoughts.

Hyunjin didn't recall Chan lighting his cigarette, but there it was.

"Jisung doesn't willingly change very often."

"Honest to god," Hyunjin sighed, "I don't know what his problem is. He's got some kind of grudge."

Chan nodded. He believed what Hyunjin was saying. Or at least, he believed that Hyunjin believed what he was saying.

"I won't blame you if you don't want the job. Cohesion is the goal, but I'll settle for civility."

"Not to be an asshole," Hyunjin couldn’t help but huff, "but that's more on him than me. I barely know the guy. As far as I know, he just hates vampires."

=====

"Sorry man," Felix muttered towards Jisung.

Jisung growled in response. If not for the somewhat muddy tendrils wrapped around his snout, he would have snapped at him.

When Chan and Hyunjin had walked a bit further down the alley to talk, Felix was left to tend to Tempawan and keep an eye on Jisung.

Not that Felix had to do much. Tempawan was stable enough for the moment, and Jisung was immobilized.

"Do you know that guy?" Felix asked.

Jisung huffed, then whined. He wriggled in his earthy bindings, snuffling as he tried to get closer to Tempawan.

"She'll be 'right mate," Felix reassured him.

=====

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!"

Jisung couldn't exactly laugh, but his tail twitched at the way Changbin unknowingly mimicked him upon his arrival.

"Changbin, relax…"

Chan held a hand against Changbin’s chest. Changbin was keeping a remarkable amount of calm, all things considered. He was barely trying to get around Chan.

"Re… relax? Do you know who this motherfucker is?"

"We've talked."

"Oh! Oh, you've talked!" Changbin balked, "I see, I mean as long as you've talked I guess that's fine."

Hyunjin kept silent, mentally cataloging people he had possibly wronged to be called a motherfucker twice in thirty minutes.

"Just go help Felix."

For the first time, Changbin actually took in the scene at the other end of the alleyway. The little remaining calm he had dissipated as soon as his mind processed what he saw.

He took a step towards the three figures on the ground, then turned to look at Hyunjin.

"What did you do?"

Hyunjin was mesmerized by the green that sprung up in one of Changbin’s irises. It was a shade he knew all too well.

"I… nothing…" Hyunjin wasn't used to feeling off-balance.

"She's fine," Chan answered the real question. "Go help Felix and Jisung."

"She better be more than fine," Changbin growled, casting Hyunjin a lingering and exceptionally dirty look, "or it won't matter how much you two have talked."

[msfcatlover]

@alycat76​ : Can you give me the low urban fantasy AU? 

YES! YES I ABSOLUTELY CAN!!! Ah, you have no idea how much I love this one!!!

Okay, so! This AU was actually born directly from my frustration with a bunch of Urban Fantasy AUs (and original stories, if we’re being real here.) Namely, that those stories will so often be like, “These magical beings are very, very rare,” and then the entire cast will be mystical beings of one sort or another. And I was like, “You can totally tell an engaging story in a world like this with an almost entirely human cast. You don’t even have to cut out the magic element or fun world building!” (And yes, that first part does accurately describe my Monster!Kids AU. Shhhhh, let me have my hypocrisy.)

I wanted to do that, and my brain is 90% Batfam brainrot right now, so here’s what I came up with.

(CW for minor mentions of sickness, canon character death, and child abuse. Bruce is not the abuser, for the record. But mentions are there. Also, Jason’s body is not restored to its pre-death state, and I do describe some of the things that would’ve been done to prep him for his funeral.)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Very first point: Bruce’s tie to Gotham is more than just his love & dedication to his city. The Wayne family are supposedly one of the oldest families in the city, and of those old families they’re possibly (I’m still a little unclear here) the only one not tied to the Court of Owls? They’re the ones most dedicated to improving Gotham and ending its corruption, anyway. So let’s do something with that, shall we?

The Wayne bloodline has a bond with the city. Some might call it a blessing, some might call it a curse. The eldest member of the family is a Fisher King; the health of the Lord is tied directly to that of the city. When the Lord is sick, the city suffers; when the city suffers, the Lord feels its pain. And for generations, the head of the family has near-always been ill. Bruce has vivid memories of his father retching over the toilet, or calling in sick because the trembling was too much for Thomas to risk operating on patients (they are, depressingly, some of the most vivid memories Bruce has of his father.) As a member of the family, Bruce could see the marks just under his father’s skin, from ink-black to bruise-yellow and every sickly color in between, that nobody else seemed to see (Zatanna did, and she was the only outsider to assure Bruce he wasn’t crazy over it, but there’s only so much she could do for him.) It was terrifying for a young boy to see his father so ill, but Thomas promised Bruce that even though it was a “family condition,” Thomas & Martha were working on it; Thomas promised his son that by the time Bruce had to worry about it, they’d have made enough progress that Bruce would hardly even notice it.

Of course, that’s not what happened. Thomas was actually feeling well that night, better than he had in months, and wanted to go out to celebrate. Martha chose the restaurant and Bruce chose the movie. And maybe, if Thomas had kept feeling well, if he hadn’t had to stop to catch his breath, if the family hadn’t stepped into that specific alley to avoid blocking the sidewalk... maybe things would’ve been different.

When Thomas Wayne breathed his last, his son collapsed under the weight of Gotham’s rot & suffering. Joe Chill assumed the bullet must’ve passed through one of the parents to hit the child, and fled in a panic.

The hospital could find nothing wrong with Bruce, but he saw the understanding in Alfred’s eyes when he arrived and the first thing Bruce said to Alfred was, “I think I’m dying.”

(In most legends, Fisher Kings cannot leave their homelands. The Waynes are slightly luckier, but the longer they are away, the more they... fade. Energy seeps out of them slowly, color leaves their skin, no amount of sleep is ever enough, and they eventually need to return to Gotham to recharge. Bruce’s record is 3yrs, and the doctors shipped him home basically in a coma.)

(Bruce swore he would never have children, never pass down his bloodline’s curse to an innocent child who should not have to carry it. He got a vasectomy as soon as he legally could. Needless to say, he was furious Talia would go so far as to create a clone-son for the two of them, violating both Bruce’s right to choose and cursing Damian to carry on that line of suffering.)

Bruce learned his city & body well enough that he can use it as a map. Not a map that would make sense to anyone else (street corners that are directly adjacent to eachother might be on completely different parts of him, like one on his ribs and the other behind his knee.) During the day, he uses his resources to try to treat Gotham’s suffering preventatively, going after unjust rules & systems, weaving a new security net for Gotham’s underclass, etc. At night, his methods are more surgical, cutting out the tumors & rot, while also taking the time to help as many individual citizens as he possibly can.

As the legend of the Batman grows, reality starts to bend ever so slightly under the weight of it. He jumps further & more accurately than a man of his bulk should be able to, can always find the perfect corner to hide in, always has something to grab when he falls off a building.

Despite all the suffering Gotham causes Bruce Wayne, he still loves his city. And the city loves him back.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Second point: Dick Grayson is human, and he doesn’t exactly have any magic of his own. It’s... I’m calling it “being a conduit.” Basically, Dick resonates with any magic in his vicinity. He’s very sensitive to the presence of magic, to the point of it being basically a sixth sense, and on an instinctive level he attunes himself to any natural or environmental magic around him. To a very limited degree, he can even take on a few traits of what that magic is, but not... he can’t tune into a fire spell and burn you with a touch, but when he’s resonating with Gotham, he is slightly more resistant to poisoning.

It’s much, much rarer than being a magic user (though many magic users do eventually become conduits through sheer exposure,) but in the same way having perfect pitch is different from being able to sing.

...I’m making it sound so much more powerful than it actually is here. The main benefit Dick gets out of it is that when he attunes himself to any given city, the city will treat him as a native and most citizens just passing him in the street will assume he is too (this does not affect his ability to, say, speak the language or change his accent, it’s just his “vibes,” if that makes sense.)

As far as story goes, this means Dick can see Bruce’s curse-marks despite not being a member of his bloodline; if they’re in contact with eachother, Dick can even very faintly feel what the city is inflicting on Bruce at any given time. (This scares the absolute bejeezus out of Bruce when he realizes, as he immediately assumes he misinterpreted the curse, and “bloodline” just means “family,” or even “household,” and he’s cursed Dick as well just by offering him a home!) It also means that as soon as Robin becomes part of Batman’s legend, Dick can benefit from the city’s protections just like Bruce does.

It is, in fact, Dick who causes Bruce to realize there’s something more than just good luck happening, when Robin is thrown off a roof but fortunately finds a pole of some sort hidden by the building’s shadow to kick off from and make it to the next one over (this also triggers a rumor that Robin can fly, something Dick is more than happy to lean into with some tailoring on his cape, and yes, he does move even better & faster as a result.) The thing is, Bruce is certain there was no pole there, because he would’ve incorporated it into potential escape plans. And when he finally has the time to go back & check, after the fight is over, after Robin is safe... he’s right. The alley is empty. There’s no pole, no pipe, no nothing. But Dick definitely kicked off of something in mid-air, Dick’s not a metahuman or a magic user, he can’t double-jump or anything. Dick himself insists his foot just caught the top of a thin, flat cylinder, no more than two inches wide, just barely enough to jump from; Dick’s even pretty sure he saw the pole when he glanced behind him, sticking up out of the shadows. Nothing weird at all, except for how it doesn’t exist.

(When Jason dies, Gotham’s grief is strong enough to feel it all the way out in space. Dick doesn’t understand the heavy feeling in his heart, nor the sudden urgency to get home. He tells the other Titans to just drop him off in Gotham, but the closer they get, the worse Dick feels. When they actually break the city limits, Dick just melts into tears as Gotham’s pain howls through every inch of his body. Donna calls ahead, more than a little panicked, and nearly gives Alfred a heart attack with how worried & hesitant Donna is to just straight up say what’s wrong with Dick. She offers Dick the communicator, saying it’s Alfred on the line, and Dick snatches it out of her hand to ask the only coherent word any of them will hear from him for the rest of the day: “Who?”

When Alfred answers, Dick just... breaks. Right there in front of them. He’s trying to say something, something about that being wrong, something about having plans, but he can’t deny what he’s feeling, and he can’t seem to get the words out.

The Titans land in the Batcave, and refuse to leave. Fuck Batman’s rules, they’re not abandoning Dick... and Dick isn’t the only one who didn’t get to say goodbye.)

(Bruce & Dick still fight about it terribly once they’re finally alone. Bruce never once raises his hand to his son, but Dick tries to reach out to him, to touch Bruce’s hand and resonate, to literally share his pain, and Bruce jerks away saying, “Don’t, it’s not---”

Dick stares in shock & horror as both of them silently complete that sentence: It’s not real. If you asked Dick right in that moment, he’d say striking him would have hurt less.)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Jason was human, fully human, with nothing special about him at all. Well, except for how Gotham loved him even more than Batman. The resonance Dick needs to wrap himself up in for Gotham to accept him, Jason has it echoing in his bones. He’s one of Gotham’s truest sons, he’s part of that city, and the city is part of him.

It’s not Superboy Prime’s reality breaking punch that brought Jason back from the dead. I... Look, I wrote a little nursery rhyme to explain it, and I’ve no idea if it’s any good (but it can’t be any worse than the Court of Owls’ rhyme, which has just a few too many syllables in certain lines for me to find whatever rhythm it’s supposed to have.)

Take me home to Gotham If I die far away Put me in her soil In a shallow grave

I don’t belong in Paris Or under London Town Don’t bury me in Tokyo Put me in Gotham ground

If you lose me out at sea In storm or dark of night I’ll swim back home to Gotham I’ll just follow the lights

Don’t send me off to Moscow Or drag me down to Rome I’m Gotham born and bred, my friend I only rest at home

Oh, take me home to Gotham If I die far away Put me in her soil In a shallow grave

I don’t need no tears or funerals Don’t miss me every day For I’ve come home to Gotham And right at home I’ll stay

(As far as most people are concerned, that’s where the rhyme ends. This next part is less well known, in-universe.)

I don’t want no fancy coffin Just put me in the ground Dig a hole on old Park Row And don’t let me be found

My soul belongs in Gotham She knows me blood and bone There is nowhere else that I may rest I’ll only toss and moan

But I’ll rest well in Gotham For two years and a day And if I’m feeling up to it I might even awake

So take me home to Gotham If I die far away You know I’ll only rest in peace In my shallow grave

...Yeah. This actually leads to a few traditions very specific to Gotham, like lighting a candle on someone’s grave on the anniversary of their death to help “lead them home,” or sitting vigil by their grave for the first 2-3 anniversaries. Lots of people don’t even know it has anything to do with this rhyme, it’s just part of Gotham’s culture.

Bruce & Dick of course know the whole rhyme and fight not to get their hopes up on the 2nd anniversary (have you seen that one post where Dick goes to smoke a cigarette for Jason on his grave, chokes on the smoke, and then Bruce shows up and they just silently share it? Yeah. Those vibes. Big those vibes.)

They made one crucial miscalculation, though: they calculated when Jason’s return would theoretically be from the time he died, not from when he was buried. Jason claws his way out of the ground just a day or two after they leave.

Now Jason’s a full-on undead revenant. In exactly the same condition they put him in the ground. He has embalming fluid in his veins, and wires holding his broken bones together. His mouth was sewn shut. But he’s not braindead, he’s fully aware, so enjoy that nightmare fuel for your near future! Additionally, people can’t seem to recognize him as being out of place; he’s walking around in his funeral suit, covered in dirt, and hardly anyone gives him a second glance. He doesn’t register to people, just a face in the crowd, just another part of Gotham, and it’s... Look, Jason’s not complaining that he’s not being arrested or having people run screaming at the sight of him. He can’t even say they’re ignoring him because people will still look up, say their greetings, whatever when he walks through a door, or grunt when they walk into him. But something about the way people brush past him, the certainty nobody will remember him after their interaction is finished, hurts.

(The only way for Jason to be remembered, to leave an impression on the people around him, is to become part of a legend once again.)

Revenants come back for a reason, and Jason’s is to kill his murderer. But he’s part of Gotham proper now, and unlike Bruce, Jason can’t leave. He tries to, he drives all the way to Arkham in a hot-wired car, but he’s still a good half mile away before the pain becomes too much and Jason’s forced to turn the car around or risk crashing when he inevitably passes out. This Jason never trains with the League of Assassins, but he doesn’t need to; no Lazarus Pit needed to fix his mind, and his undead body can take a lot more punishment than any living human could.

(I have this mental image of Jason going back to Wayne Manor, right on the edge of discomfort-not-pain outside of the city proper, and needing to spill so many identifying secrets to Alfred to get Alfred to even let him through the door. Bruce is out of the country, so Alfred calls Dick to please come help him verify their visitor’s identity. Dick has no idea who this stranger in their living room is, until he closes his eyes and focuses on the magic. Dives in deep, letting the resonance of Gotham’s soul wrap around him, and is surprised to find it so much clearer & louder than it should be this far from the city’s heart. Louder than it’s ever been since Jason---

Dick opens his eyes, and his breath catches in his throat as he finally recognizes the face staring at him with so much raw hope.)

Anyway, Bruce refuses to kill the Joker even harder when he finds out Jason is back, because he’s terrified that the moment Jason’s unfinished business is done, Jason will go back to being properly dead.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Okay, last stop: Tim! The only member of the family to be fully supernatural, non-human from the start.

Tim is a changeling. Specifically, he’s a fae who was born without the spellcasting abilities most fae have, so he was traded for a human child. Tim has no memory of the fae courts or his home mound, but he’s a smart cookie and it wasn’t hard to do the math.

Tim can’t lie. He has to keep his promises and he can’t help but keep track of debts (the kindest people in his life will give him quick, easy ways to repay them; a cool rock Tim found, or an interesting bit of information. Tim doesn’t like to hold debts over others most of the time, and will offer similar outs or just tell himself the next nice thing they do for him makes them even.)

Tim can’t cross salt lines or thresholds with horseshoes above them.

Tim can’t touch iron or silver without burning his skin.

Eating non-iodized salt makes Tim sick.

If Tim speaks someone’s full name as part of a command, they will do what he tells them to (other people don’t usually realize this, because they aren’t forced violently; their own minds usually try to find ways to justify what they’re doing.)

If someone has a piece of Tim’s body (like hair, blood, or nail-clippings) Tim’s brain goes into panic mode as quickly as if they held a knife to his throat.

Those are the obvious giveaways that point straight to fae. Tim’s inhumanity can also be found in minute details of his physicality.

Tim’s eyes glow in the dark.

The tips of Tim’s ears are pointed.

Tim has never lost a tooth (but his parents had his eye-teeth removed when he was eight.)

Tim’s nails grow in tough & black as pitch. (He’s gotten in trouble many times at school for painting them, despite the doctor’s note explaining it.)

Hidden under Tim’s hair, his scalp grows thick, curved thorns like a rosebush. (His mother sits him down in the bathroom the day before company comes over, and meticulously removes them with a pair of nail clippers. It hurts. They bleed. Tim’s learned not to squirm or show how much he hate it. It hurts worse if anyone messes with Tim’s hair afterwards, but he’s learned not to show that either.)

And, of course, there’s the biggest giveaway of all:

In all Tim’s pictures before the single trip his parents ever took him on (a whirlwind tour of Europe just before his 2nd birthday,) Tim’s eyes were hazel-brown.

They’re blue now.

(Tim tells himself his parents leave him behind and push him away because they can sense something is off about him, but that they don’t know what. He tells himself they didn’t notice when the fae stole their son away, that the real Timothy Drake would’ve grown up doted on & treasured, traveling the world with them, seeing the sights. Tim tries not to think about how Drake Industries was spiraling before they took that trip, or how it stabilized before they even made it home.)

Tim still becomes Robin, barely resisting Name-commanding his way into the role (it wouldn’t be right, it wouldn’t be honest, he needs Bruce to trust Tim if Bruce is ever going to get better.)

Gotham itself sees Tim as an interloper, but when Tim is Robin it can’t do anything about that. When Jason comes back, Tim sets off all his red-flag alarms, and all he can see is an alien parasite trying to worm its way into his family. It won’t be until Jason saves Tim from supernatural poachers who try to torture Tim’s Name out of him (fruitless in the first place, Tim doesn’t know his own Name,) that they’ll be able to move past that. Gotham can project its suspicions & paranoia through Jason, but how Jason chooses to see Tim will also affect Gotham.

(Someday, Damian will find Tim’s eye-teeth and return them to him as a birthday gift. It will be the kindest single act anyone has ever done for him, as Tim feels safe & whole for the first time since they were taken. Nevermind that they���re in a jewelry box and not Tim’s body, he has his teeth back, and nobody can take them ever again.

Tim will struggle to tell Damian that Tim can’t even begin to express how much this means to him. In the end, Tim just tells Damian, “Thank you. I owe you.”

Dangerous words, with no limit on the debt.

Damian will blink, realize what Tim’s answer really means, and scoff. “Don’t be stupid. It’s a gift. You don’t owe me anything, that’s how gifts work.”)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Basically everyone else has the same stories they do in canon, but with a little less dying. I’ve given dying so much more weight in this AU, so like, Steph doesn’t die, Damian doesn’t die, etc.

Damian does inherit Bruce’s curse/burden when Bruce is lost in time, though. Dick helps him learn to manage it, on top of everything else.

[meda-princess]

My KC Winter Cup submission for @soulessrobot! Lighting mage and white phoenix girlfriends. :3

Decided to combine a few of the prompts, and I had a lot of fun with this! (Although it took way longer than I expected. ^^;) I hope you like it!

The background is just an image and blurred to shit cuz I was running out of time oops