Klance Supernatural Beings AU
NOTE: Based on the amazing Klance witch and familiar comic by @mistmistly !Ā Their art is fabulous and I totally recommend checking them out! ^-^
Word count: Around 1,700 words
Chapter: 1/? - This is really just a preview to the fanfic that I will be releasing more of later on on AO3
About: PREVIEW CHAPTER of this: Sleep-deprived Keith avoids all things supernatural- besides his best friends Pidge and Shiro- and especially all things witches. He refuses to use his magic as a familiar and declines any and all non-human class offers from Shiro. That is, until Pidge asks him to tutor one of their friends that Keith has never met. If Pidge is friends with him and thinks Keith would be a suitable tutor, then surely this guy is a tolerable human. Right?
AO3 link:Ā https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096180/chapters/40205000
For the end of September, itās chilly. It is as bitter and biting as both the scalding dark coffees and the one who clings to them like theyāre a life raft. Keith doesnāt mind it though, and he considers it one of the only enjoyable things about the time of the year. Everything else- the schoolwork, Mabon, his birthday, Halloween, and hell, even Columbus Day- are all things that he dreads and tries to avoid like the plague.
Most supernaturals enjoy the season due to the celebrations and the upcoming two week period around All Hallowsā Eve and Samhain in which their power is heightened. Keith doesnāt though, for various reasons.
The sort of strong aura of non-humans- especially witches, unfortunately- created by Mabon still lingers around like a heavy swirling mist. Everyoneās still a bit high on the scent of magic that makes Keithās nose crinkle.
Thankfully itās mostly humans in the library still- for some reason the supernaturals tend to show up in public more often around this time of the year- but there are still far too many supernaturals for his liking anyway. A pixie and human are chatting animatedly. Vampires are sipping from metal water bottles that actually probably contain blood right in front of possible victims. Witches are being witches with their familiars always hanging around them like animals on leashes. Heās pretty sure that Lotor is dealing and doing potions back there in the corner but he canāt bother to look closer because it feels like his loaded backpack has been tied to his eyelids, making them droop as the dark bags that underline them cradle the last of his fragile sanity.
Keith plops into his usual seat in the library, only to realize that it is in fact not his usual seat, and heās accidentally sat at the wrong table. Pidge doesnāt even look surprised. They just give him their classic deadpan stare that says āIām not movingā. They look even worse than him with the baggage hanging under their eyes and ratted hair- if thatās even possible.
He doesn't bother moving either. He just holds their coffee in the space between their tables and lets Pidge swipe it with their noodle arms. They yank out one of Keithās earbuds as well, letting it dangle and brush against his hoodie. It dulls the sound of classic rock in his ear and fills it with the unwanted sounds of loud chatter instead. For goodness sakes, this is a library, not a social house. Whisper for crying out loud. Itās too early to have to deal with this.
Keith glances around to make sure no humans are around before speaking. āWhy the fuck are people still hype about Mabon? Or are they already getting hyped up for All Hallowsā?ā He can hear the irritation in his own whispered voice, but he doesnāt do anything to keep it back. Nor does he try to tone down his language or adjust the scowl on his face. Too much energy.
āWell, statistically, Keith, people donāt tend to hate these holidays as much as you do. They actually look forward to it.ā
āDoesnāt give my witch neighbor permission to have parties every night ātill the crack of dawn for days in celebration of Mabon and then mixing it with my poor sleep habits and heavy school workload to make me a walking zombie rather than a familiar. Fucking witches.ā
āYour mother was a witch, Keith,ā they say softly, carefully. Mother. Itās a word that must be treated fragile when handed through the shells of Keithās ears.
Keith looks to the ground. And thatās exactly the reason why I donāt like them so much. Thatās why this hurts so much. Pidge knows that information but he doesnāt share it again and he avoids mentioning it. Too personal. Too deep. Too buried away behind walls and locks and chains for it to escape his tongue. Discussions about it are meant for someplace quiet, still, in his and Pidgeās own corner of the world with only the shadows and dust bunnies for company. Places where there is enough space and he has enough energy to let his demons roam.
Pidge picks up easily on Keithās worsening mood. They almost look guilty for trying to use his mother as an argument in this discussion. āWhat about the witches in Harry Potter?ā
āThe only good ones.ā Keith huffs as Pidge chuckles beside him. āThatāsā¦ different though. Witches and familiars and all the other creatures of that world are different from us here.ā
Pidge scrutinizes him, making their glasses seem more like magnifying glasses used to help them pick away at the complex inner workings of Keith rather than to clearly read pages. Keith feels uncomfortable under those beady calculating eyes, his shoulders hunching inwards to shield himself as if heās a piece of technology that the gremlin can toy with and solve. One day, perhaps they will succeed in their hacking of his brain and will be able to put some sense into it. Not today though.
āStill having those sleeping problems? Besides the neighbor?ā
āIām worried about you. Shiro is too. Maybe itās time that you get some-ā
Keith knows what they are about to say and he doesn't want to hear it. āNo, Pidge. Iām not doing that.ā His forehead firmly thunks against the wooden table. He yanks his hoodie up, hoping that it muffles out some of the loud background noise and keeps him out of Pidgeās sight. Ends this conversation. The demons arenāt going to escape here. āIām fine,ā he says, acutely aware of his sickly pallor and the weakness in his voice. Very convincing.
Pidge hums and then is silent, so he decides that their brain finally started to overheat with all their thinking and that they are probably mildly fed up with his complaining about the holidays every year by now. However, when he lifts his head, gasping for coffee like a fish on land, they are still studying him intensely. āYou canāt hack into minds you know.ā
āWorth a tryā¦ā Pidge shrugs. Their eyes go from two narrow lines of rushing binary code to wide bright blinking light bulbs. āI just remembered something.ā
āI know what I want for Samhain.ā
āEven I know that Samhain doesnāt work that way, Pidge. Itās not like those human holidays like Christmas,ā Keith had said many times before. āAnd even if gifts are given, itās usually a spiritual one.ā But Keith enjoys breaking supernatural traditions more than anything, so he had agreed many years ago to begin his own tradition with Pidge. They give each other gifts for Samhain every year- and they aren't related to witchcraft in any shape or form.
Keith furrows his brows. āI thought you wanted Buzzfeed Unsolved merch or plane tickets to Roswell?ā
āWell, Iāve changed my mind. You know how my professor chose me to work on that special coding project?ā Pidge continues before he even gets a chance to nod. āWell, since Iāve been chosen, I no longer have the time to fulfill another responsibility. So Iām asking you to take it for me.ā
āWhat is it..?ā Keith asks warily.
āI need you to tutor my friend in art history.ā
āYouāre just gonna have to be happy with a Roswell trip and a wheezing Ryan and Shane t-shirt.ā
āIām not exactly the most patient person. Or a people person.ā
āIf he can deal with me, he can deal with you.ā
āI donāt have the time. Iām way too sleep-deprived and busy with my major, job, avoiding this whole month, and your ass to add anything.ā
Pidge starts to look desperate. āYou need help in Spanish, right? Iām sure you guys could make an arrangement. Itās his native language. And he likes Harry Potter! You guys would be such good friends. Trust me. Please, Keith, Iām begging you. Heās a really good guy and I just need to find someone to help him! Youāre the only art guy I know! Please, please. Please!ā
Keith does have a pretty low grade in Spanish, and his art professor will probably be more likely to bring him on that special public art trip if he keeps his grades up. And Pidge looks so desperate that he thinks it would physically hurt to reject them.
He sips his coffee, mulling it over. Or, at least, he tries to. His brain is too foggy for him to fully think about the consequences and he just wants Pidge to stop rambling and filling up his cramped brain with frantic words so he agrees with a shrug. āIām not looking for more friends but what the hell, why not feed my workaholism more?ā He deadpans.
Pidgeās whole face glows and they make a sort of inhuman whirring noise. āReally?ā They ask, as if Keith would be able to say no when saying yes leads to Pidge making that face. He feels like a father being dragged around by an eager child with puppy dog eyes all because heās too weak to say no.
āYes,ā he sighs. For how much Pidge puts up with him, they deserve it. āYou owe me though.ā
āThatās not how gifts work.ā
āWell, then I want my Samhain gift to be a favor, charity case. I donāt know what it is yet, but Iāll figure it out.ā
āFine. Itās a deal.ā And they drink to it, both of them equally hunched over. Just like how they used to with potions or whenever they made promises as children.
Their contract of coffee is hot and bitter as it crawls down the back of Keithās throat. Keith isnāt quite sure itās just the drink though. Thereās something tingling on the back of his neck, his scalp is prickling, and he feels off.
Perhaps itās the desperation in Pidgeās tone. He worries for a moment that he didnāt ask enough questions before agreeing. Worries that this friend of Pidgeās might be annoying or loud or stupid or would want to be friends because he really doesnāt need that in his life right now, but then he realizes that if Pidge is truly his friend, he must not be any of those things at all. He must be both tolerable and human if they would even suggest this.
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