macbetha:

FREE! Urban Fantasy AU | PREVIEW (?)

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so hi! the little (?) means i’m not sure if i’m actually going to write this au, but we’ll see! please let me know what you think of this snippet. here’s my inspiration thread for this au and here’s the song i listened to for this particular snippet. 

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On
a rainy Monday, two figures lounge on a coffee shop balcony.

All human
establishments on this street are abandoned for the night as the storm
beats down on the lacy-iron rails, rain flooding the colorful Moroccan ceramics
and pouring off the balcony in a violent rush. The wind tears apart the roses
in the hanging flower boxes and fights to rip off the striped, green-and-white balcony canopy.

A rose petal tumbles in the wind and a hand snatches it quicker than eyes can
follow, pinching it between two fingers that have painted black nails. Rings are stacked up to the knuckles with rubies plated in tungsten and accented in gold.
Some rings are chunky animal heads like vipers and bats with eyes of pearls or
onyx.

Absently, Rin rubs the petal between his fingertips to feel its softness, his
nostrils flaring to take in the humid stench of the city. There’s car exhaust and wet concrete; the faint, electric burn of traffic lights and power lines makes his nose scrunch like he might sneeze. He closes his eyes and listens to the world around him, twitching at the scatter of rat claws in the sewers, hearing the dull roar of an airplane overhead. An apartment complex is close by: there’s a few dozen heartbeats of various speeds, most of them drumming slow with sleep. He listens harder and notices a fainter thud, echoing a woman’s beating pulse. She must be pregnant – probably doesn’t even know it, with how young and weak the baby sounds. There’s the moaning of ghouls from a nearby cemetery and the faint wail of banshees as they float up and down the aisles of a closed grocery store a few miles away.

Rin tastes smoke on
his tongue, the mere scent of it burning with
such intensity that it’s like crunching embers between his teeth, letting them pop
and spark in his mouth. This particular smoke reeks more than exhaust fumes or house fires because of where the smoke
comes from – the building across the road,
the one that is empty of human
inhabitants.

He and his companion regard the club, Rin’s own gaze like fire, the other’s like ice. The neon door sign
burns like hot coals in the night, the cursive scrawl tantalizing with its coy,
swooping lines that read The Ninth
Circle.

Rin rolls his tongue over his fangs with a smirk before he and Haru launch
themselves over the balcony. Their leather trenches billow out and his dead
heart shoots up his throat, ribs constricting with a gasp. Jumping – or falling, rather – is sometimes a philosophical
experience for him. It’s
like when people go skydiving and get reminded of their humanity, how small
they are. Rin remembers his humanity, too, when he falls, but not in the same
way – he realizes no fall can break
him, and that always gives him a surge of power so intense that he wavers
when he lands, boots slamming against the ground with enough force to cave the
pavement in. Rainwater pools into the new little valley around his feet and he’s numb to the wet cold of it.
Haruka lands and bows into a graceful crouch, cold and calculated as ever. The
flap of his coat is the only sound he makes, which is too boring for Rin to
even want to try.  

They stalk toward the club, two tall silhouettes exuding a taunting amount of
confidence. Their bodies do not bow to the weather, fingers carding upward
through drenched hair before Rin knocks on the door.

The tiny rectangular window slides open and a face scrutinizes them with a
once-over. The eyes are pitch black but they simmer with interest as they lock
with Rin. “Password?”

Rin leans in, pressing himself against the door so close to the window that
the man on the other side cranes back with a splutter. Rin mockingly repeats, “Password?” He sneaks the tip of his blessed dagger into sight and purrs, “My
password is that I’ve got an angel at my beck and
call and I won’t hesitate to tell him where this
little shack is.”

The man’s brows furrow in rage before
someone shoves him out of the way, hissing, “He’s
the vampire prince, just let him in!”

Rin’s
smiling from ear to ear when the door opens. This demon is also wearing a human
skin, his eyes just as black as the spluttering man’s. Rin bypasses them both
without another glance but Haruka glares in warning at the men, his presence firm and protective at Rin’s back.

The bar is long and narrow with walls of embroidered velvet and platinum, the
tiles black and white at their feet. Chandeliers light a gloomy path through
the space, leading past granite counters cluttered with bottles of whiskey,
blood, varieties of venom and black potions like tar. Heavy metal pumps thick
and heavy into the air, beating through Rin with such mighty pulses that its as if he has a
heartbeat again. Creatures of all kinds lounge on tufted settees – women in
evening gowns with cleavage spilling over and horns curling from their heads,
men with tousled hair and shirts unbuttoned down their chiseled chests; they take sips
of bourbon with skeleton fingers peaking out from their sleeves.

Rin saunters
up to a “man” with a gorgeous tan and soft, fiery hair. He perks up from his slouch
when he notices Rin and the demon rolls his neck, thighs spread
confidently as Rin steps between them, into his space. “Hey, Sei.”

“Oi, Rin,” he says in a gruff laugh, his voice always bouncing with some sort
of chuckle. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

The demon’s company snarls at how close Rin is to Sei, revolted at the presence of him
and Haru. Vampires aren’t particularly welcome in a club for demons, but
Seijuro waves away their hissing with an irritated glare. “Sorry, we’ve had one
to many outsiders in here today.”

“Oh?” Rin sprawls out on Seijuro’s chaise lounge, ignoring the protesting
glares of his friends and stealing a shot of ogre’s draught from the table. It
tastes earthy, like wheat and rain. “Who else showed up?”

Seijuro curls an indulgent smirk but says nothing. From the corner of Rin’s
eye, he see’s Haru grit his jaw impatiently, fist tightening around the blade
tucked in his pocket. Haru can never relax in places like this like Rin can,
but he understands that. Things usually don’t go well when species
intermingle, and Seijuro seems to know that as well, since he’s just sitting
there with those raised brows, smiling and not saying a damn word.

Rin sighs with his own smile, throwing one leg over the other; the muscled meat
of his thigh curves into the new position and Seijuro looks him over without shame. Rin
rolls his ankle just so and silver flashes from behind the tongue of his boot. The demon’s just smart enough to realize it was soaked in holy water before Rin
came here, and he straightens up at the unspoken threat. He rolls his lips around in irritation. “Is that really necessary?”

“No,” Rin coos. “If you tell me what I want to know.”

Seijuro’s eyes flicker to Haru, who arches a daring brow.
The demon rolls his gaze back to Rin with a fond smirk. “I really hate you, but
I can appreciate someone brave enough to play dirty with me.” 

“Can’t say the same,” Rin says.

“Aw, what, you don’t hate me?”

“I don’t appreciate someone brave enough to play dirty.”

Quicker than Seijuro’s
next breath, Rin dives forward and presses his forearm across Seijuro’s throat
like a cinder block. He throws a leg over his hips, digging the heel of his boot
into Seijuro’s thigh. The demon drops his glass and his friends surge forward,
but they freeze as Haru bears his fangs in a snarl, giving a hiss so sharp and
loud that Rin’s ears ring.

The blessed knife in Rin’s shoe hisses to life, quivering at the close
proximity to a demon, and Seijuro tries to scramble away before he can be burned. Rin looms closer, ducking near Seijuro’s neck with fangs poised to
strike. “You’re not keeping quiet because you’re brave,” Rin whispers. He
brings his head up slowly, hair gliding over his eyes as they surge redder.
“Ask yourself, are you more afraid of those outsiders who showed up earlier, or
are you more afraid of me? Ask yourself right now.”

Seijuro’s face twists, his exhale thick and gurgled under the pressure of Rin’s
arm. The demon’s skin blazes under his touch – catching on fire is one of their  defense mechanisms but Rin hasn’t even felt warm in millennia, so it’s useless against him. He waits unblinkingly.

Seijuro
nods once, hands pushing at Rin’s chest, and the vampire frees his throat but
stays poised over him, the blessed knife rattling against his boot buckles.
“Werewolves showed up earlier today,” the demon admits.

Haru recoils in disgust. “What the hell did they want?”

Seijuro snorts. “The same thing you want. They wanted to know if we could
confirm rumors about the uprising.”

The uprising of humans against mystical beings, of course. It’s been twenty
tears since the supernatural were introduced into human society and it went as
horribly as everyone knew it would. Countries refused the immigration of any immortals
and the places that did allow the
presence of mystical beings denied them basic human rights – it didn’t matter
if they once were one of the living. No creature could find jobs or anywhere that would house
them; most were forced to pretend to be human but those acts never last long,
and they were trialed and punished severely. Humans themselves grew weary of
one another, not trusting that their own neighbors weren’t blood-drinkers or
moon-chasers. Slews of pointless murders and violent riots threatened to
destroy society, both that of the supernatural and the humans.

After years of the humans’ tirades, the violence settled down but tension remained
high throughout the world. Now it sounds like that tension is ready to snap
harder than ever before. Rin says, “Well? Is it happening?” 

Seijuro smirks. “What the fuck do you think? Of course it’s true. But I’m not really revealing anything to you – you vampires as well as the werewolves are
just too scared to face it.”

Haru hisses something vulgar and Rin throws a hand up before he can tear out
the demon’s throat with his teeth, ignoring that his own raised hand trembles,
just slightly.

The last human uprising took a chunk of the supernatural’s population. Rin’s coven,
his own father, went up in flames
along with werewolf pups, seelie royals… no mystical species was left unscathed
by the humans’ greed for bloodshed.

Rin lifts his chin, throat working and pulling taut. “Which wolves came to see
you?”

Seijuro says, “Sousuke – the alpha, and his big ass
shadow, Makoto –”

Sousuke.

“ – there was another redheaded wolf, a male… oh, and Sousuke’s little
sister, Satomi. How’s Gou, by the way?”

“Gay,” Rin snaps.  

“Ah,” Seijuro sighs with a mournful look. “I figured.”

Rin rises to a stand and saunters backward to the door, spinning his blessed
knife between his fingers just to make sure the onlookers don’t fuck with him. “Thanks,”
he winks, smirking at how flushed and clammy Seijuro is after his near-brush
with death.

Seijuro calls, “Do you really think this uprising will have a different outcome than the alst when you’re more worried about the werewolves than protecting your own people?”

Rin bristles, fury screaming through him before Haru wrenches him by the arm. “Ignore him,
let’s go.” His composure’s snapped
after being trapped in such a confiding, dangerous place for so long.

They step out into the rain and walk a few blocks before taking a breather in
an alleyway. Rin mulls over Seijuro’s words, a nerve throbbing at his temple as
Haru glances around, making sure they weren’t followed. It’s around 3 AM, so
the streets are nearly barren save for the occasional car.

Haru sags against the alley wall, eyes shutting in relief. Then he gives Rin a judgmental stare. “You’ve slept with that demon, haven’t you?”

“Who?”

Haru slaps his arm. “Seijuro, you idiot.” 

“Maybe,” Rin shrugs, unbothered. “We’ve all been alive a long time.” He rolls his lips in to hide a smirk, just itching to get under his best friend’s skin. “Who knows, maybe you and I have had sex before.” 

Haru scoffs, “Oh, don’t start this shit again, Rin -”

“How do you know we haven’t?”

“Because I would swan dive into the nearest portal and never come out if you even thought about -”

Rin throws his head back to laugh, nearly stumbling with it. “Okay, damn, I’m kidding! Calm down.” 

“You calm down,” Haru pouts, snuggling deeper into his coat and flicking his head, his wet bangs kicking off his face. “Let’s just go, okay, where is this place? I hate the rain.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re like a cat – ow, don’t hit me! Okay, okay, it’s this way, you shit -”

They make their way to one of the only open restaurants at this hour: a noodle
joint with a black star painted over the door. The symbol means that the diner
is a safe haven for all mystical species, and a little bell rings over the door
as they enter. It’s a cheap place – the overhead menu is written in marker on a
dry erase board and the decorations consist of paper banners.

Behind the
counter, a teenage girl glances up from her phone with a timid smile. Her scent
is a human’s – she reeks of stuffy, cotton-smelling exhaustion and the dull
heat of boredom, but that quickly snaps into the sharp taste of fear on Rin’s
tongue. Her face is flushed from the rainy humidity as her eyes dart with nervousness.
She knows they’re vampires – they have
an air about them, an unnerving chill lingering in the air wherever they go,
and they have a lithe way of carrying themselves with subtle grace.

Rin doesn’t exactly like humans, but
he’s sure that their presence is about to stress the girl to tears. It’s
got to be scary enough being alone here at night and working at a joint that
welcomes monsters has to be a nightmare, so he passes her by with eyes softened in reassurance – we’re not
going to hurt you.

The girl deflates in relief.

Rin and Haru head for the three booths (like he said, this place is cheap and
cramped) and they find the person they’re looking for at the back booth. The
boy has his back to them, facing the wall with small hands wrapped around a cup
of warm milk with honey on the side. The tiny shoulders hunch, sensing Rin and
Haru’s presence, and he turns with a heavy exhale. “Thank God you’re all
right.”

“Of course we are,” Rin scoffs as he and Haru slide into the opposite side of
the booth. They shrug off their drenched coats and Rin ties his damp hair back
before leaning forward with a smile. “You really helped us out letting us know
where the demon’s lair is, Ai.”

Ai takes a sip of his milk, brows raised over his eyes. He has no pupils, just
blue irises, and his silver hair glows like sunlight in fog. “Being a fallen
angel has its perks.”

“You mean being friends with Momotarou has it’s perks,” Rin teases.

Haru pulls out a tiny white packet and rips it open with his teeth, suckling on
the ripped edge quietly. After swallowing half of the pack’s containments, he hands it
over to Rin with a firm look. Rin sucks on the packet, face twisting at the
slimy texture of congealed blood, but he swallows it down. Afterward, he feels
a little high with relief, thighs falling open as he rests his head backward.

Ai says, “I never thought I’d benefit by having a demon as my chemistry partner.”
He shrugs to himself. “But I’ve seen weirder, I suppose.” Ai stirs a bit more
honey into his milk. “So, what’d Seijuro tell you?”

“That it’s true,” Haru sighs. “The humans are planning an uprising.”

“That could really mean anything though,” Ai muses, rolling his chin on a fist.
“Is it a big, organized thing or just a few vigilantes? Is the government
backing up the uprising like last time? Is the attack against all of us or are
they taking out one species at a time?”

“I think they’re going after everyone,” Rin says, thumbing at the packet in
frustration. “Seijuro told us that the wolves had been by earlier today.”

Ai narrows his gaze. “Which wolves?”

Rin grips the packet tighter. “Sousuke.”