Snakebite.

Ch. 1

A/N~ This is a prompt fill from DreamWidth's RotG KINK meme. I hope you enjoy! For a link to the prompt itself, you can find it on my profile!

Snakebite has now been deeply and thoroughly edited of spelling errors, mistakes, and plot holes. Please enjoy!

Genre: Humor, romance.

Chara(s): Pitch Black, Toothiana, other Guardians

Pairing(s): Tooth/Pitch.

Enjoy!

So…

Shall we start now?

~S~

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Pitch hated the heat…

Actually, scratch that. Pitch didn't hate the heat, he hated the season that brought the damn heat!

Summer was, without a doubt, his most despised season of the year. Granted he found reasons to dislike all four seasons, but summer was at the top of the list for two reasons. One was the complete plummet in fear. Sure, there were places where people feared heat stroke, brush fires, being separated from mommy and daddy at the theme park, et cetera. It was fear, but compared to other things, it was barely enough to feed a rat shaped Nightmare. He could handle that though, no problem, conditions change. It was the second reason he hated summer with a passion that was putting him in a sour mood.

Case in point, this god damn heat!

'What is this, a heat wave?' he thought, slumping back onto the black couch dominating his personal library.

Normally Pitch was rather adaptive around harsh temperatures, both cold and hot. But it seemed Pitch's body was more built at resistance to the cold, if his last visit to Antarctica was anything to go by. His caverns were almost always cool and damp, just how he liked it. But once summer rolled around, the moisture of his lair would start to evaporate, and the heat from the surface would seep into the ground and into his lair. Thus transforming his once comfortably chilly caverns into an endlessly humid sauna. It was disgusting…

His wardrobe probably didn't help much either. His robes may be lightweight, but it seems the color was a very nice heat absorbent. Joy…

Pitch sighed and wiped the sweat collecting on his forehead, his golden gaze locked onto some unknown point of the ceiling. A sudden thought occurred to him, all of which seemed to send a tingle of – dare he say it – giddiness through his body. Well, he supposed he shouldn't complain too much. He just enjoyed his personal pity-parties.

A grin spread over his ashen face.

Okay, so maybe he didn't hate summer as much as he says he does. It was during this time of the year (not counting some parts of spring) that he got to indulge in one of his more…unique abilities.

'Well, no need to prolong the inevitable.' he thought with a smirk.

Sitting up, he took a moment to survey his surroundings, as if trying to see if anyone else was around. His ears perked slightly as he tuned into any noises around him; silence. Perfect.

Lying back down onto the couch, Pitch shut his eyes and sighed. Mentally reaching into his core, he 'gripped' a small chunk of his magic and guided it into his center. Once he felt the familiar sensation of what he could describe as a warm ball of buzzing energy collect in his upper abdomen, he pressed his slender legs together and forced the ball of energy down.

It was slow at first; it always started out slow, but it eventually picked up in speed as the sensation traveled down past his belly and down into his pelvis. It was a strange sensation, granted, and at first alarming when he first started getting into his little guilty-pleasure, but it was thankfully brief.

He felt the hem of his robes seem to come alive and wrap tightly around his legs, immobilizing him. But he did not move; instead, he focused his concentration back on the ball of energy and let his mental grip on it release. It 'dropped' into the bowl of his pelvis, causing an electrical sensation, like two atoms crashing into each other, to travel down into his suddenly numb legs.

A shudder raced up and down his suddenly tingling spine like a Jacob's Ladder. The energy pressed down harder before it seemed to burst and spread like scalding hot water down his legs and into his toes. Pitch immediately felt the very familiar sensation of muscles in his back and legs quivering not unpleasantly, like he was stretching from a fitful nap. Pitch would never admit it, but the transformation itself was a rather sensational experience, and not at all unpleasant if he was honest with himself. Which he rarely was.

A shaky sigh left black lips as the stretching sensation seemed to elongate and continue out past the length of his body. It felt as if he was feeling sensations outside his body, and it was slowly becoming more and more noticeable.

First it was the velvety brush of the arm of the couch. Then came the sensation of sliding along the cool stone floor. Pitch paid no mind to the few sensations of what he could compare as to stubbing his toe on the few pieces of furniture in the room. The pain wasn't nearly as sharp. If anything it was like feeling a fly going on a head on collision for him while he was in full body armor.

Completely ignoring the sounds of small tables overturning, books flopping to the ground, and the occasional chair tipping over, Pitch became oblivious to the world as he floated in his transformation induced trance.

What felt like hours passed, but it had only been less than a few minutes. And once he felt the pressure of the ball of shrinking energy in his pelvis vanish, it was over…

And instant relief washed over Pitch as the once unbearably prominent heat all but vanished from the atmosphere. He suddenly felt like he was on a very comfortably warm and humid island the humans were so fond of vacationing to.

Pitch opened his eyes, vaguely noting how some of the remnants of the magic once pressing into his pelvis moved up into his chest and throat. Licking his lips (and completely unalarmed by the sudden elongation of the now forked muscle) Pitch pushed himself up to rest on his elbows and look down at his new form.

If there was one thing Pitch could appreciate, it would be the art of perfection. And really, he saw nothing but perfection in his new form.

Silky black scales completely enveloped what was once a pair of gaunt legs, accented by gem-like shards of blue, gold, green, and purple scales trailing along his flank. His serpentine tail was at least twelve feet long, give or take half the width of the room. But it didn't matter too much if the new body was too long or too short; a simple mental command and Pitch could make his tail as long or as short as he wanted.

Chuckling deviously to himself, Pitch set to work reacquainting himself to his new form. It was shaky and a bit awkward at first; he only ever took this form for a few months once or twice a year. But after a couple laps slinking around his library, he felt he had the motions back down and adjusted to the new muscles rippling through his tail. Once assured his form was stable, he slithered out of his library and to his bedchambers. Before he could indulge himself in his new form, he had to check and see if all was in order and he didn't suddenly sprout any abnormalities. He shuddered at the thought. The first time he had tried this new form, he had somehow ended up with feathers instead of scales. The second time around he got the scales right, but somehow sprouted gills and fins. He could now to this day say to someone with a straight face that he nearly drowned without being anywhere near water…

The Nightmare King slunk over to the wall length mirror next to his wardrobe. Turning this way and that, and putting many self-conscious models to shame with his nit-picking, Pitch smirked at the lack of flaws on his form. But he frowned slightly at one tiny problem, nearly pouting at his reflection. That would never do. The shapeless thing may show off his chest nicely, but it only seemed to distort his lovely obsidian scales!

"Hmph…" huffing, Pitch shed his robe and tossed it carelessly onto the floor, "Much better."

Pitch would, without a doubt, be the first to admit he was a vain bastard. And he had no qualms about this. He knew he was good looking in his own way, and he was quite comfortable with his body, if that wasn't all too obvious; but come on, with collarbones and a neck like his, who was he to hide them from the world? Sure he was on the thin side, but his body was toned and firm. Though he did at times wish some of his bones weren't so prominent, particularly in the hips and ribs, but he didn't complain.

His original form was one thing, but this, his Naga form he liked to call it, was a true work of art.

Pitch took pride in his serpentine form for various reasons; one such reason was actually a direct link to his work. Ophidiophobia was a very common fear among humans, and there were so many superstitions circling around snakes themselves that prompted humans into fearing them. Pitch considered it one of his smaller weaknesses; he always held a soft spot for creepy crawly things. Though he would never fully understand how humans could hate things like snakes or other such creatures. Serpents were such lovely creatures, not to mention vital to most ecosystems. Without them, fear of spiders and snakes would be replaced with fears of mice and rats. Not a very glamorous fear all things considered…

Well, no use dwelling on the ifs and ands. Pitch had a full season of self-pampering to get to work on. Not to mention how much delicious fear he can get out of the skittish mortals in his current form.

Maybe he didn't hate summer as much as he thought. If anything, maybe it was just as much a vacation season as it was to the humans…

To be continued…

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