#Elements Brains and Fangs
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justmoreocs-writing · 2 years ago
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Renée forced her breathing even, forced herself to try lowering her temperature so the flames on her hands finally petered out. And yet her thoughts kept swirling back to everything that had happened. To the danger Peter had already put her friends in. She couldn’t ignore the anger, the hatred, which bubbled up inside her at seeing him.
‘Ren?’ Stiles’s voice was soft, and yet somehow it managed to reach her through the thrumming sound of blood thundering in her ears. Still, she couldn’t take her eyes off Peter. Off the way he seemed to sneer even when he was already in pain from the previous attack. Not her attack, she hastened to remind herself. As of yet, her conscience was clear of having hurt him.
‘Go on,’ Peter baited. ‘Come on, little Elemental, why not use all that power?’
The words were like dousing her in ice water. Renée shook her head, felt the flames receding as she took a step away from him. As she backed into Stiles, who placed a cautious hand on her arm.
‘You wouldn’t,’ he said as she hastily pulled away from him, terrified of accidentally injuring him with any remnants of her power still lingering on her skin.
‘I might,’ she whispered, glancing down at her hands. It was difficult to know what could happen. Her powers seemed to be flaring more than ever, especially with emotions running so close to the surface.
‘I trust you,’ Stiles told her, the sincerity behind those simple words was almost enough to shatter her. Even after everything, the lies and secrets she’d kept from him. Even the times she’d so very almost lost control simply because it was too much, he trusted her. He trusted her, and he trusted Scott, and even though people seemed to dismiss Stiles as having no powers, Renée was certain that was it.
‘Thank you,’ she said, before crashing against him in a hug. A hug she was grateful he quickly returned.
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justmoreocs-edits · 2 years ago
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Elements, Brains and Fangs Story Introduction
All Renée’s life she’d known about the supernatural, known that eventually she’d have to actually spend time learning to control the magic she’d inherited from her mother. But she’d always assumed it would be simple. And it would have been, if it wasn’t for the fact her family moved back to Beacon Hills, and it turns out her childhood friends have gotten themselves caught up in the more dangerous side of the supernatural. But can Renée keep herself out of trouble and protect them, or will she have to finally tell them the whole truth to achieve that?
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collegeoflore · 1 year ago
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i just think there’s no point if he’s not a little scary is all. he just needs to be kind of freaky.
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ozzgin · 1 year ago
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I'm the anon who asked if your requests are open and i got busy assignments + presentations that i almost forgot about the request but now i remembered and it's based on my dream i saw that night..
How about a vampire who lost his relic (presumably a ring) and reader happens find it and tries it on, now the vampire is all panicking because guess what? That was a betrothal relic and it has binded the vampire's soul with the one of reader. They can't pull it out/take it of.. oh well, now they are stuck and obviously the vampire hates the idea of being stuck with a pesky human but hey they are kinda stupid..? How tf they tripped on thin air? Or how they are still alive even after being food poisoned 5 times a month? Vampire is now babysitter for his human *sighs * what has he gotten himself in..
(Please add yandere elements later on, my brain stoopid but i want a hot Victorian era vampire being obsessed with me ^^ muah!)
(I'm sorry this is so lengthy TT)
Yandere! Vampire x Reader
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Featuring a ridiculously lucky Reader who constantly manages to escape a Vampire's assassination attempts. Did someone order a supernatural edition of enemies to lovers?
Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, romcom
[Monster masterlist] [Original works masterlist]
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"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" your friends gasp in unison, eyes fixated on the fallen ceramic pot that scarcely missed you, now laying shattered at your feet. You laugh reassuringly and wave your hand in dismissal. "It's the fifth time it happens today. Maybe there's a storm coming?"
From within the shadows, menacing eyes glowing red follow your movements. "Damn it!" The mysterious man curses under his breath. He stares enviously at the bulky ring on your finger. The ring bearing his Family signet, where part of his very soul resides. It has stayed with him for centuries, and somehow, to his utmost shame, he lost it. By the time he rushed back to retrieve it, you were carelessly sliding it down your finger. He wanted to strangle the life out of you right then and there, but he felt it: the immediate surge of contractual power, dominating his will and holding him back from breaking your bones. "It's a little tacky, isn't it?" your friend remarked. You nodded in agreement and tried to remove it, but the metal band tightened around your skin, painfully constricting your digit. It was stuck. It was too late.
Now he has to rely on cheap trickeries like this one. Sure, he may not be able to directly plunge his fangs into your neck, but the bonding curse does not shield you from "accidents", you see. It would be a real shame if that flower pot was to land straight into your head, ending you instantly and thus breaking the connection with him. Except you simply refuse to die. A mystery, a paradox, one that enrages him to no end. It's almost as if the ring is bringing you fortune at the cost of his misery.
"Have you had any luck removing that ugly thing?" the person standing next to you mentions. The vampire lord grits his teeth at the blasphemous words. This is what's become of him: a deceitful buffoon, having to sit and listen to his inheritance being mocked relentlessly. He holds back the urge of shouting that thousands have bled to death in order to forge that magnificence. "Not at all", you respond idly. "I tried taking it to a jeweler, and she said she could try to cut it, but she ended up having a heart attack right in the middle of it. She didn't even look that old, maybe it runs in her family?"
Unbelievable. The thought of reclaiming his relic haunts every second of his day, to the point he's become your shadow. Stalking your every move, your every breath, observing his prey and waiting for an opportunity to strike. He can already picture that pathetic face of yours, twisting in pain, begging for-...huh. Well, look at that, you're reading one of his favorite books. Perhaps you do have a little taste, after all. It won't save you from your terrible fate, but he might skip the prolonged torture.
There's plenty of quotes out there about knowing your enemy in order to guarantee your victory, though one might wonder where the limit of such knowledge resides. Or what counts as useful to begin with. The vampire lord is presently wondering about this very aspect, as he mouths your coffee order from a distance. Less sugar, huh? You did mention losing your sweet tooth. He shakes his head indignantly. Absolutely not! The throb of his heart is fueled by raw hatred and nothing else. One of days he will savour your demise.
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Your ridiculous luck might just end today. You've taken a shortcut on your way back home, and didn't expect a shady, burly man to block your exit. A perverted grin stains his face as he approaches you, twiddling with his pocket knife. "Alone at this hour?" You frown and try to find a way out, but the man suddenly begins to heave and convulse before your eyes, grasping at his chest as the skin shrivels and dries. He collapses at your feet, body wilted as if it's been emptied of its vitality. The Vampire Lord clicks his tongue.
To think he'd rush to rescue his sworn enemy, a pitiful mortal like you. He didn't even get the chance to consider the aftermath. You stare at the stranger, confused but observant. Pale skin, crimson eyes, unnaturally sharp canines...and the fact he just drained a living being into a bloodless corpse: everything hints to one possibility. "Are you by any chance a vampire?" you find yourself mumbling. "You must've graduated from Harvard with those deduction skills", he responds sarcastically.
Everything else unfolds in a haze. Wasn't he planning to kill you and retrieve his ring? When the hell did he offer to walk you home to avoid more creeps? Why is he twirling his hair sheepishly whenever you praise his demonic powers? Oh, but it gets worse: why did he suddenly feel the urge to kiss you before returning to his cursed lair? Why did he accept your invitation to spend the night at your place instead? One moment ago, he was doing his best to curse you off this Earth. Now he's tugging stray strands of hair away from your blushing, whining face, asking you if it hurts. Damned human.
"How did you know I like this? Have you been stalking me?" you joke, nudging your undead boyfriend and setting the gift aside. "More or less", he confesses with a yawn. He recalls all that time spent dutifully spying on your oblivious self. "You know, a human like you shouldn't be able to dodge death like that." He turns to you and scans your features. Then, abruptly embarrassed, he ruffles your hair to block you from noticing his blush. "I suppose my failure was the better outcome. It's not too bad, having you around."
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sweatinghoneybee · 4 months ago
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Yay finish this one! After finishing Connie I just gotta draw Lloyd cause the way that he is described really sounds found to me especially his oni dragon form! And also cause I seriously need to practice drawing guys like seriously the last time I drew a guy was in October and I think that doesn't quite seem fair since the guy was just an au version of MC that I've made and since he's a robot I took some liberties on not fully drawing the human anatomy so yeah, tho still cute mechanic boy tho.
Honestly I didn't go too crazy with the design and just drew Lloyd the way the fanfic described him which what I've listed is pale, tall, athletic body, pointed ears, fangs, freckles, scars, bright green eyes, and mussed styled blonde hair. Honestly if I'm being honest I was just trying to give him a elven vampire look cause like come on just read the description Lloyd was given in the fic? Pointed eared fanged blond haired boy with green eyes that can also turn red AND purple? No wonder the reader of this fic is simping for him, he's basically a combo of fantasy elf prince and horror vampire lover and with her book loving heart she couldn't handle the amount of hotness he is! 乁⁠[⁠ᓀ⁠˵⁠▾⁠˵⁠ᓂ⁠]⁠ㄏ
And then for his ninja gi at first I wanted to draw Lloyd with his gi in the cover of the fanfic from Wattpad but I decided to add in elements from his gi in the sons of garmadon and took some liberties cause I couldn't draw the mask right cause I ended up making him look like a wrapped sausage with the first mask I drew him in, tho with this experience I now understand why most fanarts of the ninjas in Ninjago are them not wearing masks cause like those things are HARD to draw. Or maybe that's just me, seriously can someone confirm to me if I'm right for this cause like when I search up Ninjago fanarts most of them are the ninjas not wearing their masks ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠∵⁠ ⁠)⁠┌
The real fun was when I drew the oni dragon form! Tho I was working backwards with drawing Uchu first cause since he's described as the evolved version of Lloyd in his oni dragon form It was an easier process with making Uchu first cause if I made his final form then I can work out what it may look like in it's premature state! Tho I will say this even tho it's a fun experience drawing this it was NOT easy cause the description of this form is something. Uchu and Lloyd's horns are described like crowns on their head but with how it's described with Lloyd grabbing his front horn and also the two fronts of it being kissed but the horns also described as tiered with each set being longer then the others, I was seriously racking my head trying to figure out what it looks like and don't even get me started with Uchu's horns then being described as antler like this part seriously put dents in my brain (⁠~⁠_⁠~⁠;⁠) Tho luckily at the end i end up getting a design I like and with the horns design finish I just sorta made Uchu's form literally just more exaggerated and longer but trying my best to make it look regal the best I can. Tho I just made Uchu have super long braid cause I just thought it would be so cool that in his oni dragon form his hair grew longer which give him like a dragon looking tail braid and I thought it would be so cute Saisho braiding and brushing her hubby's hair. And I just gave Lloyd's oni dragon form not that exaggerated, long and darker and I was done! Tho I gotta admit I'm sad that I couldn't color his scales have that golden shine to them but sadly my yellow pen ink got covered too mush with the black colored pencil so there's nothing I could do about it, but besides that I'm happy with the results cause I honestly did not think I could do anatomy besides girls this well since I haven't practiced it a lot! ⊂⁠(⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠)⁠)⁠⊃
If anyone is wondering what the heck I'm talking about this is a fanart from Ninjago fanfic made by @samseaaa called butterfly effect, here's a link any of you would like to check it out!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/42409836/chapters/107794638?view_adult=tru
Hope you guys check it out cause this story has already had 66 chapters and it's not even finish yet and turns out this was still book 1?!?! Seriously go check it out the story is super cute fluffy romance with a gun shot of angsts hope you guys enjoy reading along! ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾
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peachiejeongin · 7 months ago
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Venom and Velvet - Hyunjin
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Synopsis: Snake hybrids were terrifying; the mere thought of them integrating into society sent humans into mass hysteria. You cannot help when one of them captivates your attention, however, leading to an entire reconstruct of your ideology...
Pairing: snake hybrid!Hyunjin x reader
Genre: hybrid!AU, Fluff, Angsty Elements
Warnings: Do not read this if you have ophidiophobia, bullying, mentions of vandalism
Notice: Hello, darlings! I have recently acquired Snake Hybrid Hyunjin brain rot, thus why you are receiving this story today! [Thank you, fluffylino, we all say in unison]. I have not seen many fluffy Snake Hybrid Hyunjin fictions, so I thought I would create one of my own. Enjoy! :)
It was an honest mistake, how they came to exist.
The fateful day at the chemical plant seemed like any other; chemists researched in their labs, engineers repaired certain sectors of the building, and quality assurance workers monitored every aspect of the plant to a tee.
What happened in the later hours of the day is still unknown. Perhaps it was a careless chemist, maybe a freak accident; however, what was factual was the explosion. The plant erupted into a fury of flame and smoke, first stemming from the lab quarter and swiftly engulfing everything in its path. Hundreds of workers lay dead within the remains.
Or so was speculated.
The first signal of many that something was off was the flames; they were not the typical shades of orange, yellow, or red that one would typically catch glimpse of during an explosion.
They were green.
Flaming, emerald green.
'A mix of chemicals,' was the initial speculation, since that was the most reasonable voucher and humans preferred to opt for the easiest explanation rather than delve into the technical science of situations.
However, this explanation proved irrifutably inaccurate as the second signal came into play; the "deceased" workers rose from what was determined to be their gravesite, yet they were not...themselves. It was evident that some sort of radioactive mutation had occured; those who were once thought of as dead sported a new appearance, consisting of cascading, Sacramento green scales prevailing in patches, primarily on the victims' shoulders, collarbones, forearms, and calfs. Fangs protruded from their upper jaws, claws replaced their fingers nails, and both appeared sharp and hungry. Their tongues forked perfectly down the center, and their once neutral-shaded eyes turned a bright yellow shade, their pupils dilating until they were nothing but thin, black slits. From here, the story became clear: necrotoxins and cytotoxins, specifically the kinds commonly found in snake venom, had somehow been involved within the accident and were responsible for this mutation.
This new species wreaked havoc on the town, biting, constricting, and terrifying every human being in sight. It took nearly a full year for the madness to cease; a surviving chemist from the chemical plant created an antidote for the infected individuals, who the town had started referring to as, "Snake Hybrids." The antitode was administered to every Snake Hybrid, whether by choice or by force. While it did not remove the physical side effects, like the scales or fangs, it significantly calmed their tempers, allowing them to fully act like regular members of society once more.
The town council, however, did not want to take anymore chances; as such, the Hybrids were secluded from society and forced to live in a sectioned off, abandoned chamber of the neighborhood. They were forced to adapt to this new way of life, forced to raise their children in a town in which they had to explain why the humans had such a horrid distaste for their kind.
Yet, the newly-elected mayor had an irking to put a stop to these laws. His mind's configuration believed in equality for both humans and Snake Hybrids. Because of this, he slowly but surely began testing the waters, beginning with a new mandate.
"All university age students, whether human or Hybrid, will be allowed to attend whatever university of their choosing, starting this upcoming school year," he declared one Saturday morning during a press conference.
That, my friend, is how you found yourself in the situation you were currently facing.
You were "normal" by society standards; you had excellent grades, you were above average in athletics, and you had a phenomenal social life. You were the golden child of your town. Growing up, you had heard stories about the Snake Hybrids; the adults in your life did not speak fondly of them by any means, and there were a plethora of urban legends surrounding them. You had been raised to fear these creatures.
As were others your age, you had quickly inferred. When the Snake Hybrid students arrived on campus, everyone had fled like the plague. Nobody had dared to go near them; it was not like they cared, however. They stuck together, with the only humans they interacted with being their teachers. An overwhelming terror shrouded the university.
So, why in this moment, did you find yourself fixated rather than fearful?
You could not take your eyes off of the Hybrid sitting across from you. He looked absolutely nothing like the creatures friends and family had depicted in gruesome stories and tales. He looked relatively human for the most part, spare a few scaley sections on his shoulders and collarbones peaking out from underneath his top. His face was chiseled, the yellow of his irises complimenting it fairly well in your opinion. He had shoulder-length curly black hair that framed his face perfectly. From time to time, you would catch a glimpse of his forked tongue peaking out between his teeth when he became focused on an assignment.
He was incredulously, irevokably beautiful.
You were concentrated on the boy all hour, only opting to focus on your assignment whenever his eyes flicked up to meet yours and you nervously glanced away. Before you knew it, class was dismissed; you took a long time gathering your things on purpose, attempting to work up enough courage to talk to him. You did not take long enough, it seems, as you walked out of the classroom feeling slightly dejected. You did not have to make the planned effort, however.
"Take a photo," the boy nearly snarled out in a harsh manner, catching up to you in the hallway. You swiftly whipped your head around to make fierce eye contact with him; his slitted pupils bore an annoyed stare into your round ones.
"I'm sorry?" you inquired quietly, almost timidly. The both of you were now stopped in the middle of the corridor.
"You heard me," he hissed, both literally and in his tone. "A photo will last longer than staring at me. I'm not some spectacle for you to ogle at." Your eyes widened almost instantly, and you made an attempt to explain yourself.
"Oh my gosh, no!" you exclaimed, regret prominent in your voice. "I am so sorry, that is not what it was at all!"
"Yeah?" his tongue was protruding at his cheek, his tone laced with faux sympathy. "Then what was it?" He crossed his arms as he awaited an answer.
That is when you froze. You did not know how exactly to explain to the guy that you were focused on him in class because you found him absolutely stunning. Even if you did tell him, you were sure he would think it was some cruel joke. You stared down at the ground, your heart beating with guilt.
"I'm sorry," was all you managed to mumble out. You could have sworn that when you looked up, you saw his face soften. He rubbed his lips together and tsked slightly as they unfolded.
"Just don't make a habit of it," he replied, the sentence diminishing in volume as he walked away from you.
---
From that moment onwards, you were captivated by him. Everywhere you looked, he was in your line of sight; at lunch, during classes, even walking around on campus. It was like you could not escape him.
Yet, you did not physically come up to nor encounter him until one late night. You and a couple of your close friends were walking back to your dormitories after a brief party; you were not drunk by any means, but you did feel a tad tipsy after the night's events. You had began to space out when your friends began snickering and stopped in the middle of the walkway.
"What's up?" you asked; their response came in the form of more scorning giggles as they pointed upwards. The direction of their fingers landed on a different dormitory building; it was the dorm specifically designated for the male Snake Hybrids to reside in. Specifically, your friends were motioning to one of the middle windows in which a Snake Hybrid seemed to be working out.
You recognized that face anywhere.
"Oh, yeah, snakes," you stumbled over your words as you spoke. "Anyways, let's get back before lights out?" you tugged on one friend's jacket sleeve, encouraging them to get away from the building.
"Wait, oh my gosh, do you still have it?" one of them asked the girl standing next to her, completely disregarding your comments. In response, the girl smirked and took off her backpack; reaching into it, she pulled out a can of black spray paint.
"Snagged this from shop class," she explained to your confused stature.
"What are you doing with that?" you interrogated, having an anxious idea as to how this conversation was going to go.
"You mean what are we doing with it?" you were corrected. "We're going to have a little late night fun, duh." She accentuated her words with a nod towards the dormitory. Your eyes widened in bewilderment.
"You mean vandalize the Hybrid dorm?"
"Obviously," she stated as if it was the most obvious action in the world. "These guys shouldn't even be here. It's only fair we make that known." She outstretched her arm towards you, spray-can in hand. "Want to do the honors?"
You hesitantly took the can, looking down at it in obfuscation. Without thinking, your grasp on it tightened and you threw it into oblivion, specifically into the spanning woods behind the dorm. You were not exactly sure how far it went, but you did know that your "friends" were pissed.
"Y/n, what the hell?!" one of them scowled.
"I'm not doing this," you crossed your arms as you defended your stance. "Sorry, but they have done nothing to us. How is that fair?"
"Because they're-"
"What?" you interrupted your friend's monologue. "They're freaks? Misfits? Imperfect? Because guess what, so are we. Sure, they have scales and fangs and their eyes are a tad scary at times. Other than that, they are no different than we are." Your friends side-eyed one another and then nodded. They walked away from you without saying another word. You turned around to face the direction they were walking in, your mouth agape in pure vexation.
You let out a deep inhalation in the fall air as you glanced up towards the dorm; the sight that greeted your eyes shocked you: he was staring at you, a smile playing at his lips. The two of you locked eyes before he walked away.
He had seen everything.
---
The next morning, your so-called "friends" ignored you like an unwanted phone call from an ex-partner. They purposely sat on the other side of the room from you in your first hour class, whispering no doubt rumors about last night.
'Great. I'm going to be alone for the day,' you had made up your mind on that matter, dropping your head into your hands. It was not for long, though; you instantly felt a tap on your shoulder. You looked up and met the same alluring gaze you had been hyperfixated on for weeks. Your heart skipped a beat as he spoke.
"Can I sit?" he asked genuinely and politely, contrasting the first and only conversation you had ever had with him. If your face did not physically smile, your eyes surely did. You nodded slowly, and he took the open desk beside you. He never turned his head away from you.
"What's your name?" he pondered, finally getting a chance to get a good look at you.
"We've been in class together for weeks, and you don't know it?" you chuckled humorously. "I'm y/n. Your turn." He quirked an eyebrow towards your reply.
"Hyunjin," he held out a scaled hand for you to shake. You smiled slightly, ignoring the heightened whispers from the other side of the room.
"Hey, about last night, because I know you saw me-"
"Why did you stick up for me?" Hyunjin interrupted your ramble before it began. The question had you pause for a moment.
Why did you stick up for him?
Was it because you thought he was attractive? Was it due to your fight against injustice? The miniscule amount of alcohol in your system? What was it?
You could not formulate a proper response to this question; therefore, you shrugged your shoulders.
"I don't know," you spoke earnestly. "It felt right. I don't like seeing anyone being treated wrong." Hyunjin gave a small nod at your words, a sly smile appearing and his fangs protruding.
"Well, thank you," he replied. "Whatever the reason, it meant a lot." You reciprocated the small nod, and for the next hour, you and Hyunjin got a whole bunch of nothing done. You figured out he was an art major, and he smirked at the fact that you were majoring in literature; you pretty much goofed off essentially all class period, making jokes and getting to know each other.
The period ended much too quickly, and you let out a sigh of despair.
"Sit with me at lunch?" Hyunjin asked you optimistically. You nodded, an agreement that, little did you know, would morph your ideology for years to come...
---
You and Hyunjin became inseparable; you spent every waking hour of every day with one another. You sat together in classes, at lunch, and you began spending your free periods with one another. You had quickly concluded that almost everything besides the origin story you had been told about Snake Hybrids was false. The legends about ten foot talk snake creatures, tall tales of them preying at night, and other stories were quickly debunked, some even earning hearty laughs from Hyunjin from how absurd they were.
You were judged harshly by your peers for the time you were spending with him, but you did not mind. As the two of you got to know each other, you grew closer and closer until mutual feelings erupted between the two of you, though neither of you had the guts to confess them in fear of corrupting the fantastic friendship you had just built up. It was an unlikely pairing, a snake and a girl, one being as coarse as venom and the other as soft as velvet.
One fateful day, the two of you had paired up for an art project; you knew Hyunjin's expertise and your fantastic planning skills would get the job done quickly and precisely. Hyunjin had suggested you work on the project at his dorm, so that is exactly where you were headed, catching a couple of off-hand glances as you entered into the building.
You were given access to the building and quickly made your way to Hyunjin's room. You knocked a few times on his door, a plethora of colorful paints in your hand. He opened the door, and the sight that greeted your gaze shocked you: Hyunjin was shirtless, his emerald scales on display, shining under the luminescence of his ceiling light. He took out one earbud and smiled.
"Hey, give me just a minute to set up!" He closed the door gently, leaving you standing there in shock. You knew he was ethereal, but seeing him shirtless was a different tale entirely. You snapped out of your trance when the door reopened; Hyunjin was now in a grey hoodie, matching the color of his sweatpants. He invited you inside his lonesome room, closing the door swiftly behind you.
The next few hours were dedicated to your project; paper was splayed out on every surface with plans sketched on each one, paints of every color were opened and splattered onto a pallette, and those colors subsequently made their way onto the canvas, thanks to Hyunjin's skillfull brushstrokes.
Before you knew it, your project was finished; the prompt you were given was to draw something you thought was beautiful. The point of it all was to contrast every student's differing perspective on the subject. You had opted to paint a sunset, a basic approach but still effective; you had decided, in order to remove the simplicity of it, that would explain in the presentation why the sunset was beautiful. You would go beyond just the mixture of colors and bring in a bit of symbolism as to how the sunset ended the day, thus bringing beauty to a respective finale.
You felt great pride in the progress the both of you had made, and you stared intently at the painting; you were in awe of Hyunjin's talent, how he had made every shade of orange, pink, purple, and red blend together to create an exhilerating portrait. You focused on every intricate detail and how it all came together to make an incredulous scene.
"What are you thinking about, Pretty?" Hyunjin poked your arm with the handle end of the paintbrush; you quickly turned to face him, blushing from the nickname.
"Just how beautiful the painting is. I wish I could look that beautiful." you admitted.
"If you only knew," Hyunjin mumbled in a tone barely above a whisper. You heard what he had said, but you wanted to see if he would repeat it.
"Sorry, what did you say?"
"Um," Hyunjin felt a lump caught in his throat; his forked tongue moved from side to side in his mouth from anxiety as he tried to explain himself. "I said I could make you pretty like the sunset."
"What?" Before you could receive a reply, Hyunjin dipped the brush he was holding into a glob of orange paint and smeared a streak of it across your forehead. The motion made you gasp before you bust out into giggles; Hyunjin's antics did not cease.
"Now we have to get the red. And the pink," he described as his faintly-clawed hands dipped the brush into each respective color and repeated the swiping motions; he proceeded to do the same with the purple and yellow paints.
"There," he put his brush down and clasped his hands together. "Now, you look like a sunset!" Hyunjin's fangs were loud and proud as he smiled down at you. Your thoughts were colliding together as you figured out a way to get your revenge.
Suddenly, you grabbed a wider brush and coated it with green paint.
"You know, now that I'm thinking about it, I don't think these scales are necessarily green enough," you lunged towards Hyunjin's collarbone; however, you missed entirely, instead meeting a pushed out hand from the male. The impact caused your brush to fleet backwards and land on your neck instead.
"Awe, you look cute with scales!" Hyunjin complimented sarcastically. You widened your eyes, a jolly glint sparkling under the artificial light. Without thinking, you tackled Hyunjin, landing you both backwards on the bed and smearing the array of paints on his grey hoodie. Hyunjin attempted to free himself from your grasp, hissing exuberantly in between fits of laughter; his attempts were for not as you grabbed both of his hands in one of yours, the scales lightly scuffing your palms.
You lifted his hands above his head and, taking the still-glazed brush, smeared lines of green from the top of his neck down to the indents of his collarbones. The ticklish sensation made him squirm and shut his eyes as he continued to giggle. You threw the paintbrush aside on his study desk and rubbed your hands together.
"There," you leaned down, eyeing Hyunjin as the two of you were almost nose-to-nose. "Now, we're even."
The two of you stayed in this position for a while, grins ever-so-present on your faces. Hyunjin took a long, admirable look at you; he looked at your fair skin, your sparkling eyes, and your snow-white smile.
He had concluded in that moment that you were the prettiest girl he had ever laid his amber gaze upon. Yet, an unanswered question still lingered in his head.
"Why were you staring at me on the first day of class?" he inquired, moving his hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, his claw slightly scratching your ear in the process. Your face flushed a deep shade of pink at the question.
"I thought," you mumbled. "I thought you were pretty. I didn't mean to offend, I swear. I just couldn't help myself."
"You think I'm pretty?" You nodded slowly.
"Beautiful, even."
He was not exactly sure what thought went through his head before his lips were on yours. Perhaps it was your sweet words alone. Perhaps it was the fact that you had attempted to move your head away from his out of embarrassment from your confession, and he had placed a firm yet soft hand in your hair to stop you. Perhaps it was the way you had looked at him after he did just that, a daring yet shy glint present in your stare. He was not for sure what had pushed him to this action.
He was sure that he wanted to kiss you.
So, here the two of you lie, you on top of Hyunjin as the two of you passionately encapsulated one another. Your hands were cupped tightly on his cheeks while his lightly hovered over your waist. His lips were everything you had imagined them to be; they were smooth, soft, and entranced you into a compassionate haze. His forked tongue teasingly poked at yours, and you felt his fangs accidentally nip at your bottom lip a couple of times. The kiss felt straight out of a 1990s romantic tragedy.
You were not aware of how much time had passed before you had pulled away to catch a breath; you felt the swell in your lips and you physically visualized Hyunjin's as he lay, breathless beneath you. Your arms moved slowly down to his chest, and your head fell to the crook of his neck. He moved one hand to your upper back, the other still gently entangled within your hair.
"Woah," was all you could utter at the moment in time. "Who knew snakes were such good kissers?" you jokingly asked, eliciting a soft chuckle from the Hybrid.
"We're romantics, what can I say?" Your heart was pounding as you looked at him beneath you, and his arms went to snake tightly around your middle, no pun intended.
"Y'know," you had regained your composure and began to chatter. "I wasn't sure about you at first. After all the stories I had heard, all the rumors and tales. Even after you had debunked them, there was still some sort of fear present within me," you confessed, mentally punching yourself as you saw Hyunjin's content expression falter.
"But you...you are so different than what I had imagined. You are the kindest person I've met. You're so gentle and gracious and sweet, and I feel absolutely horrible about the things that I believed, so I guess I'm just going about the long way to ap-" Hyunjin cut off your babling by tilting your head up to face him and capturing you another kiss; this one was shorter but filled with just as much care as the first.
"I get it, I like you too," Hyunjin mumbled against your lips.
"Who said I was going to say that?"
"Am I wrong?" He teasingly asked, looking at you and tilting his head in perplexity.
"Not at all," you confessed.
"I wasn't sure about you either, if it makes you feel any better," Hyunjin admitted. "I thought this was just an act and was going to play out into some sort of cruel prank. But having you here, right here right now with me proves me wrong. You're different than the others. I actually like being around you. I just never wanted to say anything in fear that my deepest worries would materialize and I would lose you as a friend."
"Glad to know the feeling is mutual," you softly spoke. "The only thing is I want to lose you as a friend." Hyunjin shifted his head backwards in indecision.
"NOT like that," you clarified. "I don't want to lose you by any means. I just," you took one of his scaley hands in your smooth ones, "want to gain you as something more than a friend, if that's possible." Hyunjin instinctively rubbed his thumb over your knuckles as his golden gaze affectionately made contact with your own.
"You sure?" he inquired, a playful smirk etched onto his features. "What if people talk?"
"Let them," you responded without hesitation. "Who knows, maybe we can start some sort of shift and people will see that Snake Hybrids and humans interacting isn't so horrible." Hyunjin could not help but beam at your confession. He nodded tenderly.
"Alright. Let's try this," he accepted your heartfelt declaration, causing you to grin wide like the Cheshire Cat. You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him in for a tight hug that you never wanted to end.
Thus, the snake venom was adoringly stained onto the velvet cloth, joining them together as one futuristic reality.
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thegnomelord · 1 year ago
Note
another thought about ghost courting - he bumbles his way through and it somehow actually works, you start finding his attempts cute until eventually you’re lying in bed thinking about him and you have a moment of realisation of “god dammit i like him”
Okay, okay okay, now i'm invested in this lol SFW but slightly suggestive.
You should be asleep. You've been trying to fall asleep for god knows how long, the blinking green numbers of your alarm clock mocking you with every change— minute after minute, hour after hour, tick tick ticking by until you're ready to tear the sheets with your claws.
Something buzzes at the back of your skull like a swarm of wasps, yet you're unable to understand what it is as you glare uselessly at the ceiling as if it'll reveal all the answers. Then your eyes flicker to the nightstand, the small bone charm sitting on it. It's a piece of bleached white bone carved into rough shape by unskilled hands, the edges sharp, and you're not quite able to tell what it's supposed to be but Simon made it for you.
He made it for you.
And you could the flush beneath his mask when he'd handed it to you, trying to remain stoic despite the nervousness gnawing on his nerves. God he'd looked so adorable, staring at you with confusion and surprise when you'd purred at the sight of his gift, his eyes analyzing every little movement you made as the whisps of shadow coming off his arms fizzled like pop rocks.
God you'd just wanted to devour him there and then, to coax that mask off him so you could see his face; you didn't doubt a second he'd turn red like a lobster, eyes blown wide and the most needy sound escaping his bitten lips as he writhed underneath you as you two—
Shit.
You liked him.
That ancient element in your bones woke up with a start when your brain registered you had a potential mate, all exhaustion leaving your body as you got up and out of your room, head held in the air and mouth open to track his scent like a bloodhound, able to taste him on your tongue as you found your way to the roof.
He turned when he heard the door open, mask lifted up to his nose so he could smoke in peace. His eyes widened when he saw your glowing eyes peering back at him, like small lights that lured prey into anglerfish jaws.
"Somethin' the matter?" He asked, brows furrowed as you sniffed the air.
Your nose wrinkled as nicotine muddled the sharpness of his scent, and before you knew it you were stomping right up to him, your clawed hands wrapping around his waist as you burrowed your face into his neck.
"What the fock are you doing?" Simon growled, a shiver racing down his spine when you nuzzled his skin, the light scrape of your fangs causing a lick of adrenaline to spark in his system. But he didn't push you away, you were one of the few people he ever let touch him longer than a second.
"Simon," You voice warbled, the silence behind your letters filled with inhuman sounds. You breathed in deep, purring at his scent, of gunpowder and blackwood and something distinctly Simon filled your nose. "Mate." You purred louder, feeling it vibrate against his chest.
Ghost nearly choked at your words, the cigarette dropping to the floor as his mind stuttered like an old computer. "Wha- . . .what?"
"Mate." You repeated, and Christ did that word sound good on your tongue, your tongue coming out to lick a stripe up his neck, grinning when he wrapped his own arms around you like you were a raft in the storm. "My mate."
Simon could feel his heart beat faster, thumping in his ears like a nervous rabbit as you nuzzled further into his neck, spreading your scent on him. "Yeah?" He asked carefully, "Yours am I?"
You grumbled and lifted your head to nuzzle your cheek against his — the best you could do as a kiss when you had a mouth full of sharp teeth. "Yes," You grunted, holding the back of his neck, feeling him progressively go slack against you. "And I'm more than happy to prove it."
The hungry look in your eyes made him shiver with anticipation.
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luxlightly · 3 months ago
Text
Fragile
A fanfic of @personostient's OC Dr.Arachne in their recent comic
I said I desperately wanted to read more about him and they said "then write it yourself, scrub" (more or less) so here's this. I have now a multiple chapter story in my head for this but at least here's a very small (as of yet unnamed) Arachne trying to understand complex ideas like sympathy and compassion when he's only big enough to fit 2 brain cells in him and one is fully occupied with having OCD.
---
In retrospect, gnawing on the already weak supports of a load bearing cross beam was a bad idea vis-a-vis the structural integrity of the floor above but, in its defense, its grasp of architecture was somewhat lacking. 
Also, it had only done so to get at the termites within, who'd already done some pretty extensive damage to the whole area. 
Really, it had been inevitable.
Only a matter of time before someone or something fell straight through to the dark and dusty basement. 
Into the spider’s web. 
Well, straight through its web, tearing up hours of work and crushing a very delicious looking moth that the spider had been saving for later and sending the spider frantically scrambling away, dodging bits of debris.
It wasn't exactly a spider, but it wasn't exactly not a spider, either. Something closer to “the elements of spiders that instill fear”. All fangs, legs, eyes, and jittery movement. 
Not that it was instilling much fear at this size, though the exact nature of the size was nebulous at best. Somewhere between a rat, a golf ball, and a human heart, the shifting mass of jet black limbs and glowing red eyes would lose in a fight with the average house cat or particularly determined mouse. 
So a dead, fully grown human, delivered to its metaphorical doorstep, was a fortuitous turn of events, indeed. 
It could put so much of that mass to use, finally having enough to form some more complex systems, maybe even to venture out beyond the basement! 
The spider scurried out from its hiding place in the dark, excited but still cautious, and onto the chest of the human. The smell of blood was thick in the air. 
The spider had been trying to determine the best way of beginning to consume such a feast when some of its eyes made unexpected contact with another pair. 
The human blinked and the spider froze. 
Oh fuck. That rising and falling of the chest was breathing! That thing vertebrates did when they were alive! 
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
For a long moment, the two just stared at each other.
Then, the human raised a hand, reaching towards it, and the spider braced to be crushed. It squeezed all its eyes closed, but the pain didn't come. 
The hand instead ran two fingers softly over its body in a gentle, repetitive motion. 
“Hey…little buddy…” the human wheezed. “It's okay…I'm not--” the human paused to cough, specks of blood dotting his lips. “--not gonna hurt you. ‘M a doctor…Do…’do no harm’...”
The human’s eyes were glassy and its breathing seemed labored. 
The spider didn't know a whole lot about human anatomy, but it was pretty sure they needed their blood to stay almost entirely inside of them or it was detrimental to their health. The amount that surrounded the human and was currently leaking from a gash across his side was probably more than was supposed to be outside of him at any given time. 
The various pieces of wood and glass embedded in his flesh were probably also probably bad.
The spider stayed frozen in terror, tiny body trembling as the hand that was nearly as big as it was continued to run along its carapace.
“Shhh…” the human hushed, though the spider had made no sound. “ ‘s okay. Okay to be scared. I'm…heh…I'm a little scared myself…”
The spider’s venom was laughably weak at this size, barely enough to put a human under for a few minutes, but that would likely be all it took for his injuries to finish him off. 
It would be easy enough to strike out and bite him as he continued his odd pattern of stroking his hand across its body but, strangely…the spider found it didn't really want the motions to stop. 
It felt…nice.
Centimeter by centimeter, the spider's body relaxed, leaning into the touch, eventually pressing back into the human’s fingers.
The human let out a wet sounding chuckle.
“You’re a weird little thing, huh? I think…I think I may have lost a bit too much blood…”
His hand went still, settling against his chest and his eyes closed. His breathing continued, but it was growing weaker by the moment.
Well, that problem solved itself, it seemed. Now the only problem the spider faced was again trying to find a way to best consume a creature so much larger than itself.
Perhaps…perhaps it should wait until he was dead before trying to eat him. After all, he had not killed it, though it was easily within his power. Perhaps it was only fair that it not kill him, in return.
Though, technically it was sort of its fault for gnawing through the support beams, which would mean it had killed him. No more so than the termites had, though, certainly!
Fine. It would eat him then finish eating the termites as recompense and all would be good and balanced and correct.
The spider let out a frustrated chittering noise, pacing tiny circles around the human’s chest.
It was not all good and balanced and correct! It was bad and wobbly and wrong like rotten, termite eaten wood and it felt Bad! But why?
The human was full of holes now, too. The spider had gnawed holes in the wood. Maybe it could close these holes in the human and it would not be Bad anymore. Yes, then it would be balanced. Then this feeling of Wrong would settle.
And…maybe the human would continue his gentle repetitive touches again.
The spider crawled up to the human's face, where a small gash weeped blood. Trying to get the blood to go back inside seemed like it was likely a lost cause. Liquids hated going where they were supposed to and the spider hated it about them. The human would just have to find new blood on his own, once his stopped leaking.
Long appendages tipped with spinnerets extended up from the spider's mass, stretching fine silken stands between them.
Pressing against the human's skin, it tethered a strand above and below the very end of cut, then crossed the limbs, pulling the stands taut before anchoring the strands to the skin again, a fraction of a centimeter down the length of the cut, forming a tiny ‘x’.
It repeated the motion. The silk’s adhesive held strong. It repeated the motion. Then repeated it again.
And again and again and again.
Bit by bit, the skin pulled together over the wound in a surprisingly satisfying way and the spider’s limbs became a blur of movement, crossing over each other a dozen times a second.
The repetitive nature of the movement scratched some itch in it's mind oh so nicely. All balanced and mirrored and equal and Good.
It was almost disappointed when the wound was fully closed, the seam of tiny, gossamer stitches nearly invisible, as if the wound had never been.
Luckily, there were many more holes left to close.
It moved to another on his collar, stitching it up in only a few seconds, then pulled a shard of glass from his shoulder and sealed the wound there just as quickly.
Before the spider could move on to the next wound, the thrumming in the human’s chest, his heart’s pulsing movement, stuttered. It's rhythm grew ever weaker.
The spider didn't know all that much about how creatures of flesh and blood worked, but it knew that, when that pulse stopped, they did too, and that they needed blood to keep it going.
The gash across the human's side was leaking a lot of blood. It had to be closed soon or the human would almost certainly die.
The spider moved to the wound and started the same pattern of criss-crossed silk that it had closed the other's with. It got an inch or so down the length of the gash when the silk's glue gave way, the wound splitting back open.
The spider chittered, pensively.
The wound was too big and the blood flow from it too strong for the silk to stick to the skin tightly enough. It needed something more substantial.
Holding up a leg, it stretched the tip out to a nearly hair-thin strand.
It could spare just enough of its own body to hold the wound closed enough for the silk to seal it. It wouldn't take much.
But…sealing a wound held together by a piece of itself would mean sealing a piece of its body in the human's. What effect might that have on such a creature?
After all, its body didn't have to exist in one single piece. So what was really the difference between making a part of its body a part of the human's and making the human's body a part of its own?
But, without action, the human would die either way.
Surely, such a tiny piece of itself would do no harm…
The spider used another limb to pull the thin, jet black strand taut. Using the sharp tip of the strand, it pierced the flesh on one side of the wound, then the other, weaving itself back and forth through the human's skin, pulling the torn edges back together.
Once the gap was closed, the spider sealed it with silk, the same as the others.
Good and Balanced and Correct.
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xxacademy · 1 year ago
Text
BLOODIED HANDS OF A LOVER'S MISFORTUNE —THRONE OF HIS OWN PART II
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Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader (she/her)
-> READ PART ONE
Summary: Blood, wine, fangs, touch-- his touch. Leon Kennedy made you his princess. He put you in pretty dresses, and put is mark on every part of you. But, it's time to face the reality of your situation. You are not Leon's princess, you are his back up. Now you're forced to do your job, and come face to face with the chaos of the vampire court.
Word Count: 2.5k
Content warnings: blood/gore, reader gets drugged and restrained, weapons, vampires, typical violence and themes associated with resident evil, i shamefully reference one of Leon Kennedy's cringiest one-liner's.
a/n: i had so much fun writing this!! action & horror elements are the best. i think i could write descriptions about blood and wounds forever... it's so strangely fun (?) anwaysss im playing re4r again and i cannot get leon's kicks outta my brain, lol. i hope you enjoy, and as always thank you for your patience. i am a full-time student and i have a full-time job, so writing can take me foreverrrrr.
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Leon sits among the vampiric overlords while you sit alone, drinking a cup of tea, wearing yet another tightly corseted Victorian monstrosity.
The servants were undoubtedly kind to offer you clean clothes and breakfast, but that didn't make you want to leave any less. The uneasiness lingers dense in your stomach.
Last night was... Indulgent, to say the least. But the welcome has been overstayed, and you're antsy to leave the vampire's den. Hopefully, Leon will be quick to end their little conclave.
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
You awoke suddenly to a loud clank beside you. To your groggy surprise, your tea cup had fallen and shattered at your feet.
The idle warmth of the fireplace and the cozy living room must have lulled you to sleep. Despite your mind being deep in a heavy fog, you found the strength to look around the room and confirm that you were still, in fact, alone.
You meandered to the heavily draped window and peeked outside. You prepared yourself to be blinded by searing bright snow, but... Oh, dear god.
The sun was setting. You rubbed your eyes in harrowed disbelief. The sun was fucking setting.
How could it be? It was only just morning. You couldn't have possibly slept the entire day.
Your hands were trembling mess as you squatted down to analyze the shattered tea cup. You grabbed a piece of jagged porcelain and brought it to your nose, breathing deeply.
You caught an unmistakably bitter note buried underneath aromatic peppermint. A sedative herb most definitely was used to lace the tea. You felt ashamed; how could you be so naïve, falling for such a novice trick?
But, there was no time to dwell. You scoured the room for a weapon. The only object that stood out to you was a particularly pointy piece of metal off an ornate candelabra. You ripped out the half-melted candles and bent the metal into a makeshift weapon, poking it into your skin to test its sharpness.
This should work, and if it doesn't? Well, It will, you told yourself.
Jaunty candlestick weapon in hand, you headed for the door, which was, unsurprisingly, locked. You analyzed the clunky metalwork and quickly determined it was an old-fashioned skeleton lock. You pulled several pins from your hair, fashioned them into impromptu Allen wrenches, and began picking the lock.
After several attempts and numerous broken pins, you finally jimmied the door open.
You set out into the gothic night-veiled estate, creeping through the labyrinth of hallways. Your heeled shoes and sweeping gown made stealth damn near impossible, but you had no choice but to make it work.
You followed the networking corridors aimlessly, pressing your ear to closed doors in the hope of finding Leon.
You heard pattering footsteps coming towards you, and in a desperate attempt to hide, you angled yourself behind a column of an archway. But as the person passed, a white-gowned servant, she stopped dead in her tracks and turned on her heels to face you.
Glowing red eyes met yours, and a mindless, other-worldly voice flowed from her: "You made a very grave mistake, chérie." The servant lunged at you, unarmed, fangs bared.
The candlestick you weld plummeted to the ground, and you grabbed the servant by the wrists and held her firm, straining to keep her away as she thrashed with all her might.
You threw her down by twisting her arm to the ground and holding her in place by firmly pressing your heel into her sternum. She cried a blood-curdling howl in pain, thrashing under your foot.
"Where is he? Where is Leon?" You demanded, rage filling your wavering voice.
The servant snickered, flashing small, jagged fangs.
"Tell me!" You demanded for the last time.
She was hysterically laughing now-- It was useless to attempt to communicate with a mindless thrall.
You reached for the candlestick and quickly bent over the thrashing servant and slit her throat with the sharp metal edge.
Hot blood spilled down her virgin-white dress, but her glowing red eyes stayed fully conscious. "You're a fool," she mocked, her fingers laced around your wrist.
You sunk your heel back into her sternum, this time with much more force, causing her head to smack against the floor. She hissed in pain. Blood was still pouring from her neck as you forced her hand off of yours. You repositioned the candlestick in your hand, aiming it for her heart.
You held her still by wrapping your hand tightly around her neck and drove the weapon through her chest. Her head lulled to the side limply, and her glowing eyes dulled- she was dead, finally.
You took a moment to catch your breath, staring at the woman's lifeless body. You couldn't recall a single vampiric servant from the previous night, so why now?
As you began to regain your composure, you looked down at yourself, pretty dress all covered in blood. It was an honest reflection of how terrible the last twenty-four hours have gone.
Regardless, you grabbed your blood-drenched candlestick and began creeping through the hallways once more. No one else seemed to be coming for you now. You were utterly alone as you tip-toed through the darkened estate. Utterly alone-- besides the gut-wrenching feeling that you were being watched.
The oil-painted portraits that decorated the looming walls felt like they saw everything. They saw you massacre that servant, they saw you lie to their rulers, they saw you drunkenly court your colleague. Maybe it was your own internalization showing, but you couldn't shake the feeling.
But you felt relief when you spotted a warm candlelit gleam emanating from the crack of a closed door. It had been the first trace of light you'd seen in these gloomy halls.
As you approached the door, you heard overlapping voices talking and laughing. It sounded like a blend of English and French was being spoken, adding to the dissonance.
You ever so gently pressed your ear to the door, attempting to make out what was happening. You couldn't understand a lick of the French being spoken. But you overheard something in English: "When are you going to get the girl?" a mysterious voice asked.
Another more familiar voice replied. “Quand nous en aurons fini avec lui.”
The King.
They must have Leon here. Your stomach dropped.
What could they possibly be doing to him? And the girl, that has to be me, right?
You don't know how it happened or how your cover could have been blown. What if they killed Leon?
There's no way you'd be able to defeat them on your own. Your mind traces all the rational options to go about this, but you conclude there is none. There is only one way.
You draw a quivering breath and open the mysterious door.
To your surprise, you revealed a grand banquet hall swarmed with almost the same lineup from last night's soirée.
The creak of the door caused all of their necks to turn to you instantly. The first thing you noticed was a sea of glowing crimson eyes. All the Lords have been turned now.
The King's stark pale skin and deep blood-red eyes burrowed through your soul. The pointed corners of his mouth raised in an impish smile. At the King's side was Leon, his arms bound and his head hung limp.
He had been draped and displayed at the hands of the merciless creatures that stalked this land. A centerpiece to their dastardly festivities.
"The bunny makes its way to the wolf's den. It's almost commendable." The King squinted, his head reaching forward in his throne to get a better look at you. "It looks like you even found someone in my estate to prey on. How scary."
"How did you find out?" You kept your words steady and firm.
The King laughed, "Ah, this is a good story."
"Go on," you said, taking a step closer.
The King shifted in his chair and took a sip of what was presumably blood from a crystal glass. "I had one of my men doing perimeter control on the south end. He made it all the way to the road, where he saw a car a few meters away-- and chérie, cars do not drive on that road."
Your heart sunk.
"He found a car and stopped it. I could tell you who he found, but I think you might already know. But in case you need a refresher, it was a United States agent with a very detailed file about you and Mr. Kennedy in his car."
You tried to close the gap between you and the King, but two guards restrained you by your arms after throwing your makeshift weapon to the ground.
"You bastard! You bloody bastard! What did you do to him? And what have you done to Leon!?"
"You're going to love this ma chérie. Leon is on the path to grand ascension— he'll become one of us soon. As for the agent that brought you here, he was at lunch the following day. Not exactly my taste, as I prefer the sweet blood of a woman, but he sufficed."
The room erupted in laughter, and long fangs taunted you everywhere you looked. Even the men who held your arms laughed at you.
You tried to break free of their grip, but they outmatched you. The men lifted you by your arms and dropped you before the King's throne. They pushed you down by your shoulders so that your knees crashed to the ground.
You hoped Leon would look up or say something. But he just rested on his knees, head down, in unwavering silence.
Your voice cracked, "And what about me?"
The King clicked his tongue, scanning your blood-soaked figure with heavy lids and a cocky glint in his eye. "You're simply too... Beautiful to just let go."
You rolled your eyes, "Give me a break! You think I'll just go along with you, easy as that?"
His lips formed into a cruel smirk, "I do."
You noticed earlier that the men who restrain you have swords attached to their hips, which could quickly turn the tide of this unlucky evening. The answer is, how?
"Just you wait, little dear." The King arose from his seat and picked up Leon by the collar of his shirt.
The King was tall; he easily towered over everyone in the room. His raven black hair flowed long down his back, extenuating his gaunt appearance.
It appeared that Leon had also been drugged. His body was limp, and he barely resisted as the King pushed him up and threw him into the arms of guards.
The King cleared his throat, demanding the room's attention to himself. "Good evening, everyone. You all know Leon here; He was incredibly loyal and fearlessly dedicated to our cause. But it's recently come to light that he and his darling little girlfriend are federal agents for the United States military."
The crowd murmured their feelings in disgust. "I know, this is very disheartening. But, I have a fitting punishment for the traitors."
The King dragged on about how he planned on turning you both into vampiric slaves, doomed to a life of servitude. But you couldn't care less. He clearly underestimated you.
You notice Leon begin to come to consciousness. It started with his hands forming into fists and then him rolling his neck from side to side.
He lifted his head, sunken blue eyes meeting yours. You were kneeling on the ground, dress blood-soaked and arms forcefully restrained by guards, all before him, to save him.
Leon's eyes darted to the swords the men beside you adorned, and then they darted back to you. He raised an eyebrow as if asking if you saw what he saw.
Yes— you mouthed the words, and Leon nodded.
"Ahh, you're awake." The King forcefully grabbed Leon's neck, digging his talon-like nails into his skin. "Your time has come, Kennedy."
Leon remained silent in the wake of the King's cruelness.
The King yelled for more guards, and they arrived holding a small box upon a velvet pillow. The King opened the box, taking a sizeable, needled syringe between his fingers.
That's how they're doing it, and Umbrella parasite, of course, You thought to yourself.
The guards holding your arms tightened their grip as the King approached Leon, flicking the serum vial menacingly.
"Let the coronation commence!" The King exclaimed to exuberant cheers.
In a quiet voice, he said to Leon only, "I wasn't planning on the girl being here, but how sweet is it that your lover gets to witness your rebirth?"
Leon scoffed, staring at the King directly, sizing up his foe. "We'll see about that."
The King was unphased as he closed the gap, reaching the needle closer and closer to Leon's neck, and when he was in range, Leon charged his leg and landed a devastating kick to the King's chest.
He went flying back and fell to the ground with wind-knocking ferocity. The syringe skidded across the marble floor, far from the King's grasp.
Before anyone could react, Leon freed himself from the guard's grip, flipping one of them over his shoulder and slamming him to the ground. He kicked in the other guard's kneecap, sending him down instantly. Leon stole both swords from either injured guard and pointed them at the King.
Sweat dripped from Leon's brow, and his skin looked washed out and pale. But he stood tall in the wake of the tyrannical leader. The people around began to stir. Some remained frozen in shock, and some readied themselves for a fight.
This was about to get very ugly, and you needed to break free. With your knees pushed into the ground, it was difficult to maneuver against the guard's strength.
You hastily attempted to drive your elbow into the stomach of one of the guards. He deflected it. But you tried again, aiming for his knee. You landed it this time.
"You bitch," the guard grunted as he stumbled back. The other one grabbed you by your arms, lifting you to your feet and placing you into a headlock.
Leon reacted swiftly by throwing one of his swords in your direction. The guard flinched as the sword propelled through the air, seemingly aimed right at his head.
But, you caught the sword by its hilt and wasted no time driving the blade through the belly of the guard who restrained you. The other guard, who was still reeling from his punched-in knee, was next. It was light work for you as you twisted the blade through his chest.
Leon called for you, requesting your backup as he fought off the vampire spawns. They had Leon surrounded, protecting their King like devoted honey bees.
You axed through the crowd, driving your long sword through the hearts of fresh vamplings. Leon held his own impeccably well. He pushed away hungry fangs with ease, kicking and slicing the hoard.
You joined Leon and pressed your back against his as you fought against the opponents from behind.
Through ribbons of blood, chaos, and murder, you gritted through your teeth, "What's the plan?"
"Kill the King and run," Leon grunted.
"Where to?"
"The cabin."
"You got it; I'll follow your lead." You couldn't hide the smirk that formed across your lips. It felt good to finally be reunited and dishing out justice.
Leon chuckled exasperatedly, "Just stay alive, sweetheart, and we'll all be singing kumbaya later."
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part three coming soon xx
!! tag list -> @g4ys0n @elijahsprincess
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justmoreocs-writing · 5 months ago
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Stiles visibly gulped, and Renée couldn’t help chuckling softly as she carefully eased the lizard from the terrarium.
‘Tabby has a monster,’ he breathed, blinking rapidly before finally looking at Renée. ‘And she called it Newton!’
‘He’s not a monster,’ Renée cooed, gently stroking Newton as he sniffed the air. ‘And anyway, what were you expecting? It’s Tabby.’
‘A dog!’ Stiles said, voice cracking ever so slightly. ‘A cat. Something normal. Not a baby Kanima.’
Renée scoffed. ‘You didn’t have to come,’ she reminded him.
Stiles exhaled deeply, offered her a small smile. ‘I wanted to though,’ he admitted, gaze shifting to the crickets. ‘But I draw the line at feeding it.’
‘I’ve got this,’ she assured him. ‘Just replace the newspaper and I’ll do the rest.’
‘Thank you,’ he breathed, grinning at her before moving towards the terrarium, trying to keep a distance between himself and Newton the whole time.
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justmoreocs-edits · 2 years ago
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Elements, Brains and Fangs Perspective Character Introduction: Renée
Name: Renée Violetta Cobalt
Nickname(s): Ren
Birthday: 5th of August
Age: 16 years old
Height: 163cm / 5’4’’
Dominant Hand: Right
Occupation: High School Student
Species: Elemental Witch
Faceclaim is Georgie Henley
Character Tag
Story Tag
Story Introduction
Story Pinterest
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pwurrz · 3 months ago
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Quincamo Week Day 1 - (Winter) Domesticity:
“mr. quincy..?”
it had only been a few mere minutes since quincy left the bed, but already a certain serpent was calling for him, his voice thick with sleep.
quincy had left their shared ‘nest’ of blankets and warmth to brew yakumo some of his favourite tea, monopolizing one of the rare moments yakumo was awake and slightly coherent. usually, during his brumation period, the serpent would sleep for days at a time, and the rare occasions he did wake up, he was sluggish and fighting off sleep; barely able to keep his eyes open for long enough to drink water before falling back into a deep sleep.
this was the second winter the two of them had spent together, and quincy had grown to enjoy their little tradition. winter, aside from kleinmas, was a slow and uneventful season, mainly consisting of daily patrols through the mountains to make sure any adventurous souls hadn’t tried to cross the barrier he put in place to keep the elemental spirits at bay. coming home to yakumo was a welcome change in his now stagnant and familiar routine.
however, the weather was getting steadily warmer as of late, signalling the end of winter and thus, the end of yakumo’s brumation. which explained how he had enough energy to make his way, albeit slowly, out of bed and into the kitchen.
quincy turned at the sound of shuffling footsteps to see a very sleepy and very disgruntled serpent standing behind him, yawning widely in a way that showed off his fangs. donning one of the forest guardian’s soft, oversized sweaters, a plush eye mask that had been pushed up into his messy hair, and a pair of fuzzy, slipper-like socks on his feet, yakumo was the pinnacle of comfort.
“the bed started to get cold..” another yawn. “what are you doing?”
quincy gestured towards the boiling pot on the stove, which made yakumo pause and blink a few times, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before peering around the larger man to follow his movement. though, as if he couldn’t help it, he soon wrapped his arms around quincy’s waist, mirroring the habit quincy had of standing behind yakumo and embracing him while watching him cook.
apparently, the serpent was feeling enough like himself that he started to fret over being taken care of. it made quincy smile, even if it was troublesome, to see the younger man acting like his usual self again.
“is that.. my favourite? y-you didn’t have to-” yakumo starts to protest, but he’s cut off by quincy turning around and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. it makes the serpent stop in his tracks, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion while a blush quickly rises on his cheeks. his response is so unbearably endearing, it makes quincy want to kiss him again. and so, he does.
without waiting for yakumo’s brain to catch up to the affectionate gestures, quincy turns around once more and begins pouring a cup of tea for the both of them.
“i wanted some tea. figured i should make some for you as well.” the forest guardian responded, nonchalant in the way he usually was when he did something nice for yakumo. a little white lie goes a long way in situations like this. “come on, let’s get you back to bed. i’ll brush your hair while we wait for the tea to cool.”
the smaller man smiled softly at the mention of quincy brushing his hair. it was no secret he loved having his hair played with, and he would let out small noises resembling purrs when anyone so much as touched his head gently.
“a-alright..” a third yawn. yakumo had definitely used up his small amount of energy by this point. “but just you wait… i’ll return the favour… s-soon..”
quincy chuckled, careening a quickly fading, sleepy serpent back into his side so he wouldn’t accidentally tumble over or trip over his own feet.
“i’m sure you will, little serpent.”
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zetsubobu · 8 months ago
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Some more evil raised lloyd headcanons because my brain is hyperfixating on this au: (season 1-3)
💜in season 1 the snakes stick around at lloyds side for much longer, simply because they are afraid of his powers
💜it's only when pythor started gathering the fang blades behind lloyds back that they start to betray him and take him captive (which is why wu brings garmadon back)
💜also because lloyd isn't on the ninjas side when garmadon brings back the grundle, he never gets aged up and remains the way he is
💜like I stated in the og post, lloyd starts to doubt his dad's plan because of the overlord since lloyd does not like the way it is manipulating him
💜lloyd only joins the ninjas (at first arguing that it's only because their goals allign) at the dark island which is why that arc is much longer than in canon (with lloyd manipulating the process of building the weapon in order to gather more time)
💜however he is only letting them help him. He for sure isn't a ninja yet
💜he eventually gets caught by the overlord though who tries to convince garmadon that his son is betraying him and working with the enemy which is why garm is faced with an ultimatum
💜since lloyd has been taught how to use the essence of destruction as a little kid (and has purple eyes whenever he uses it like in crystallized), his parents and uncle never knew he had the green element too because they thought he only inherited his fathers essence
💜which is why it came as a surprise when lloyd accidentally manifested his green powers in the middle of a battle (giving the overlord more room to argue that lloyd will betray garm since he might be the green ninja)
💜the rest follows through like normal with garmadon not being too sure anymore and getting possessed by the overlord yada yada
💜which is when lloyd begrudgingly becomes the green ninja, only to save his dad and that's it he swears
💜However when garmadon becomes purified after the battle and decides to be good, lloyd has some trouble at first because while he only decided to become the green ninja to save his dad, he is so used to being antagonistic to the ninjas and still set on his dad's old goal that the sudden change to him feels like going against his own nature
💜so actually adjusting to this new role takes much longer for him which is why the dad and son learning trip in season 3 is even more necessary
💜just this time, lloyd isn't drunk on all the golden power and might he got, it's just him refusing to give into the role of the green ninja and using the green element now
💜because old habits die hard huh
💜when the overlord gets defeated by zane, lloyd felt touched by his sacrifice (and has decided that maybe the ninjas aren't too bad afterall) which is when he finally decides to take his new role seriously
💜it's also only then that he isn't keeping a distance to the others in the team anymore and decides to get to know them a bit more (starting with nya first and kai last)
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talesofsonicasura · 8 months ago
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Venomous Call
I decided to go more in depth with KN8/Venom crossover idea. There will be some comic elements but it's mostly based on the movie version of the Lethal Protector. For this part, I'll be going over the Kafka's early "Venom Days". Any questions can be asked on my main blog, @sonicasura. Let's get started. Part 2 here. Part 3 is here.
A 25 year old Kafka has life changed forever on one fateful night. He's trying to get his life together after having failed his last shot at the Defense Force. A task that proves very difficult when recruitment ads are plastered everywhere to remind him about his broken promise.
Could Kafka's life get any worse? Well being hit with a meteorite can officially be crossed off his bucket list as that's what happens. A 7 pound hunk of space rock piercing his right lung. Before Kafka loses consciousness due to blood and air loss, he sees something ooze from the meteorite.
The man wakes up back in his bed but he feels off. Like he isn't alone and fuller than usual. Kafka is completely oblivious about the news report where the bodies of the local Yakuza were found in a headless bloody pile.
Well until a growling voice comments how tasty the dead kaiju he's cutting up. Or that the black sludge which used to be his right arm had thrown away the saw and is eating at the corpse. Kafka's just glad no one else was next to him right now.
I will say the start for our himbo's partnership with Venom is less awkward than what Movie Eddie had to deal with. Kafka will question the symbiote about everything as he keeps any info in a notebook. He does puke when Venom tells him they ate a few humans(the Yakuza) earlier.
The man is much more adverse at the idea of cannibalism but he has barely any choice in the matter. Symbiotes sometimes need the required nutrients in their purest state which includes brains from living creatures. Humans have more phenylethylamine than small pest kaiju and the larger ones aren't present much.
Thus Kafka aims Venom's hunger at the criminal underworld. Like Eddie, he is very compatible with the symbiote although on a higher level so all his senses are tied to Vee's when they fully 'suit up'. Our himbo eventually grows numb to the taste of human flesh but it still mentally fucks him up sometimes.
Kafka's Venom form is quite different from the others. He is 10'9 in height, has two long horns similar to his kaiju form, a long bulky tail, rigged spikes going down his spine, white stripes on his arms, legs, neck, and tail. Venom will later add the Hoshina Clan Emblem for their chest symbol. (The symbiote thought it looked cool.)
Like the comic book adaptation, he uses natural webs to get around than just the tendrils the symbiote can provide. These abilities stem from Venom feeding on the kaiju corpses. Other comic related powers are: poisonous fangs, self-sustenance, flight(generating dragon wings), Morphomerge (bond with inanimate objects like vehicles to an extent), Energy Absorption and Transference.
There's a case of mistaken identity for a while. Venom kills No.7 and the Defense Force arrives on the scene before the Lethal Protector could leave. They assume he's the daikaiju, not the corpse. It takes a while before the Defense Force realizes that Kaiju No.7 had been neutralized and this is something else entirely.
Mina loathes Venom quite a bit. One being that the 'kaiju' likes to toy with her while calling the Captain "Pretty Lady". (Kafka is quietly dying on the inside whenever the symbiote does this.) The second reason being how Venom acts like a protector despite the fact he eats humans rather than just kaiju.
In short, Mina thinks he's a high and mighty monstrous hypocrite. Soshiro is a different case. He has a fun little 'rivalry' with Venom whenever he comes across them. Kafka obviously doesn't find being sliced and diced fun. Soshiro is quick to joke about the modified Hoshina emblem on the Lethal Protector's chest.
He finds the whole bit amusing even with Venom's man eating tendencies. They are labeled Capture Dead or Alive. He is one of the first cases where a kaiju not only has human level sapience and intelligence but a (twisted) moral compass too.
It didn't take to uncover Venom's weakness to fire. That opened up a bigger shitstorm as Mina witnesses some of Kafka's human form underneath the black ooze. She didn't see his face but it was enough to reveal the Lethal Protector needs a host to operate.
Venom obviously has a constantly updating file in the Defense Force archives. The major details are always highlighted such as his ability to adapt. Soshiro had accidentally bumped into the Lethal Protector gorging on a dragon Honju's corpse during a patrol.
Venom hadn't been in the mood to fight so our Vice Captain got front row seats to him sprouting wings that were heavily similar to the monster he had been eating. This was the first incident to raise him up the list of Defense Force priorities. Biggest is obviously the host bit.
That had gotten everyone in a tizzy as it means Venom was potentially lurking inside a human host. Many questions and theories were bounced around. 'Is the host aware of the entity in their body?' 'Are they even alive or just a corpse being puppeted?'
It made building a sensor to detect the Lethal Protector top priority amongst the Science Department. This includes smaller models as they now had to scan the civilian population for Venom's host. Everything only gets more difficult for Kafka when the DF discovers the symbiote's weakness to high frequency sounds.
It had been at a trafficking ring disguised as a rave den. One of Venom's prey accidentally turned up the stereos in fright when the Defense Force had busted down the door. The higher frequency made the Lethal Protector howl in pain before he destroyed the devices.
He obviously ran but it was too late to keep this weakness a secret. With these two major weak spots known, the Defense Force would soon concoct a plan to uncover Venom's true identity and apprehend him. I'm on the fence about Kafka escaping with his identity in tact or becoming a wanted man.
There's some very tasty angst with the latter as Mina is obviously part of this operation. Seeing her childhood friend underneath the monstrous black mass would already hurt. To see him choose the monster and the creature chastising her for abandoning him is the coup de grace.
Especially if the only thing Kafka could say is something like 'I'm sorry for being a worthless friend' before he flies off as Venom. He no doubt has negative feelings for his lost friendship with Mina. Plus symbiotes tend to bring such emotions closer to the surface in their hosts.
She is obviously gonna chase after Kafka. Those words pretty much addressed the part of her that Mina tries not to. How she essentially abandoned Kafka because he couldn't get into the Defense Force.
The regret that her purposely distancing herself from him led to the Captain's childhood friend to become Venom. And how much it ate away at him. Mina will want to fix this as Kafka is her responsibility in the end.
Even if it means putting the man inside a kaiju containment cell.
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@discoknack @foolmariofest @noodlesbf-blog @mechazushi @scribblermerlin @giantgoblin @kafkahibinomybeloved @drmarune @renard-dartigue
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moltensmusings · 1 year ago
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i would loveeeee to see your redesigns of the oracion seis in their original appearance, i also request giving us feral cobra/erik plz i must see my son
This took me a minute. I was going to wait until we got to that point in our rewatch but didn't want to leave you hanging for weeks. Consider these tentative redesigns that may change once I reach the arc.
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Few notes: I want to keep angel relatively the same but with my own twist on her outfit.
I acknowledge cobra's design is personal preference for me. Honestly I think Cobra being calm and terrifying works well, especially if we save his unhinged nature for post timeskip when he's seeking out Cubelios. I do hope retracting fangs, unhinging jaws, and extreme flexibility somewhat meets your quota.
Hoteye doesn't have a canon reason to look like he does outside of being Wally's brother so I tossed the geometric shapes and kept the "grabbing at being rich" look.
For the final three it's more minor alterations than heavy changes. Brain was hard to change but I did want to adjust some elements I wasn't a fan of. Racer and Midnight just got some personal touches of mine.
Hope you enjoy!
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not-a-space-alien · 5 months ago
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Two Sides of the Same Coin: Chapter 1
Story Masterpost
My writing hiatus is OVER!!! I'm super excited to come back and share this Baldur's Gate 3 fanfiction I've been working on. It will have 6-7 chapters. The main focus is on Astarion. Karlach is also here a lot, and Wyll and Gale are supporting characters. It will also have elements of giant/tiny for the middle chapters!
You can probably figure out from context clues, but the setting for this fic is a playthrough universe where the party does NOT do Astarion's personal quest in act 3.
If you'd like to be tagged when new chapters come out, leave a comment or message me to say so and I'll put you on the taglist :) Or Subscribe over on AO3 (^∀^) 👉 AO3
Chapter 1 doesn't have any warnings besides typical Astarion-levels of angst.
***
“We'll do it after all this, Fangs. I promise.”
They wouldn't, of course. Astarion knew better than that.  They weren’t going to help him kill Cazador to be finally free once and for all “after all this crazy shit with Netherbrains and mind flayers and tadpoles and the world-destroying cult is over.”  They were just telling him whatever it took to get what they wanted out of him, which was his help in defeating said cult.  Astarion was very familiar with it because it was how he operated basically all the time, just telling people what they wanted to hear.
If they were all still alive and standing after all this, Astarion very much doubted any of them would want to keep him around, let alone help him with his goals.  All of them had turned down his offering his body to them, and once they no longer had use of his skills with a blade, there would be nothing to keep them around.  Certainly nothing to motivate them to help him.
Everyone had helped Gale with what he wanted because understanding the Netherese magic might help them destroy the brain.  Everyone helped Wyll with what he wanted because his father was a powerful lord and needed to be saved to stop the Absolute.  Everyone helped Shadowheart with what she wanted because she had that whole thing going on with Aylin and Selûne, which they’d needed to do to defeat Ketheric anyway.  Everyone helped Lae’zel with what she wanted because she was a gith warrior and an expert in slaying ghaik and knew about the relic and everything.  Everyone helped Karlach with what she wanted to do because, well, Gortash was one of the chosen three and they needed to kill him anyway.  Everyone had helped Jahira and Halsin and Minsc and Minthara and basically everyone Astarion could count until he ran out of fingers to count on.
But then when it came his turn to ask for help?  The way they kept assuring him it was okay to do?
Apparently defeating Cazador wouldn’t help.  It wasn’t necessary.  Because Cazador wasn’t affiliated with the cult, or the hells, or the mind flayers or the tadpoles or the undead or the Sharrans or the anyone that needed to be dealt with to prevent the sky from falling on them.
No, he was only affiliated with Astarion, and of course nobody would die if Astarion kept living in paralyzing fear.
Gale, Lae’zel, Shadowheart, Karlach–they all seemed to agree it could be put off until after the more pressing matters were dealt with.  Astarion maybe thought he hadn’t communicated well enough how pressing this was for him, personally, but he wouldn’t humiliate himself by getting down on his knees to beg.  He stopped asking after that–he couldn’t bear to be told no anymore than he already had.
“My be-fanged friend, I think we have matters a touch more urgent to attend to first.  Your vampiric sire will be top of the list as soon as getting distracted might not have such disastrous consequences.”
“This vampire lord is chraith, for sure, but our most urgent enemy is far more of a task.”
“You helped me with Viconia, so it’s only fair I help you with Cazador–but after the detour to the Sharran temple, I think everyone feels we’ve wasted enough time on things that can wait right now.”
“We'll do it after all this, Fangs. I promise.”
They wouldn’t, of course.  All this momentum that had built up to stop the cult would dissipate as soon as the Netherbrain was destroyed, and then suddenly nobody would have the interest in staying together.  They’d been talking about going their separate ways after this.  Nobody would want to keep going for yet more high-risk hijinks, especially not to help some random vampire spawn who, all things considered, wasn’t even of much value to the group.
He’d managed to get into a group of people who seemed to care about him, who told him it was okay to ask for help, and then he’d found it to be still another lie.
Astarion found the one member of the camp who wouldn’t judge him for it, Scratch, curled up with the dog in his arms, and wept as quietly as he could.
“I’ve had an infinite parade of lovers.  But a friend? I can’t think of a single one.”  He still couldn’t, not anymore. 
***
They did it.  They actually did it.
They’d managed to somehow beat down the cult of the Absolute, face the Absolute itself, and win.  They’d destroyed a netherbrain.  Astarion could hardly believe it.  He was, somehow, a hero who’d saved the world.
He was riding the high and the tidal wave of mixed emotions so much that he’d almost managed to forget about his problem.  He was only forcefully reminded as they stood there on the docks, in the sunlight, and the sunlight, well.
He’d managed to forget that the sunlight was his enemy, waiting with hungry, pricking fingers for him to let his guard down.
He started slapping at his own skin like he was on fire and had to put it out, while his companions stood by in horror and urged him to find cover.
He ran blindly.  It was a miracle he didn't fall off the dock into the water.  Ha managed to find shadows under a pile of crates.
He curled up and rocked himself, trying not to let himself fall back into despair.  His life in the sun was gone, burned up just like the sun had burned his skin.
He could very faintly hear Karlach yelling–apparently she also was getting her reward for all her hard work, which was also burning alive.
What a world.
Astarion managed to use his cloak to shield himself from the sun to move away from his hiding spot and go deeper into the ravaged city.  He wanted to get away from his… companions.  He knew no help was coming, and he wouldn't subject himself to the humiliation of being refused help while also having to hide from the sun.
He had enough gold in his pockets to buy passage on a boat when the sun went down.  He had to just get as far away from Baldur’s Gate as possible.  Get somewhere Cazador wouldn’t be able to reach him. 
It was madness that Astarion hadn’t done that in the first place.  He should have just put as much distance between himself and Cazador the second he was free from his command, consequences and mind flayers be damned.
He skulked about in the darkness of the under-city until it was night, then went up to the docks. His companions were gone, which was good. He couldn't face them.
Now he just needed to find a boat leaving Baldur's Gate, any boat whose crew he could talk to here after hours, maybe talk them into letting him below deck now so he wouldn't have to board later in the sun.
He was so busy frantically stretching his neck to find such a target that he didn't notice the presence at his elbow.  But damn if he didn't recognize the voice.  It was the voice driving his nightmares.
“Where exactly do you think you're going, boy?  I've been looking for you everywhere. We've got places to be."
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