#symbiote thirst

[thegayestofagendas]

Gonna say a controversial opinion, but Carnage is like too cartilageous? Veiny? Too chiseled. He does nothing for me. He looks like he'd hurt in a sharp not good way

Venom is curvy, goopy. He looks like he would simply mold himself to the curves he touches. Very hot. Very sexy.

Riot has the sharp bits but also is very curvy. He is also hot and sexy.

[kaidiaries]

civilians literally swooning when they run into spider-man is the realest shit i’ve ever seen

[caroldantops]

and surely where there are venom balls there has to be venom cum.........

and kate just made the balls bc it seemed hot so she didn't even know it would do anything until her venom cock starts ejaculating inside you. and you can't even start to think if alien symbiotes even have cum or if it actually came from the balls or where the venom produced it bc there's just soooo much that you're already full and leaking after the first shot, and kate just keeps coming and coming until your a huge sticky mess.

and of course that's just round one, bc kate's ready to keep going all night and shoot just as much every time

^my honest reaction

[thedomesticanthropologist]

The BG3 characters on Tiktok

Wyll: has 2 accounts. One is for fitness, dancercize, calisthenics, and a little bit posing while flexing. The other is an unhinged BookTok account where he cosplays and acts out romance scenes with himself, stitches cosplay character actors with himself. Dramatic poetry, songs, reenacting Broadway play moments. Responds to every comment.

I would also accept a children's entertainment performer type account from him.

Shadowheart: Silent poses while staring down the camera. Almost every video is the same, but they all pop off in popularity saying she looks mysterious and beautiful. She uses the camera to do her eyeliner and outfit checks. No editing, always short videos, never replies in the comments. Manages to get makeup 💄 deals and free outfits sent to her all the time. Puts in mimal effort

Karlach: someone else films her just being herself. She has several viral videos. Sometimes she plans them, like seeing how much cereal she can eat in one sitting or if she can punch down an old shed she found without using any tools. Captions are usually just some version of a meysmash or one word in all capital letters.

Astarion: Influencer that got all his followers by gossiping and sniping at other influencers in their comment sections or making call-out posts but if they're unpopular he turns off comments or deletes them and pretends he didn't do anything. Posts thirst traps that would be extremely cringe but people fall for it because he's pretty. Never does "getting ready" videos without having already gotten ready off camera and faking that his hair is just naturally Like That. Ends up with a niche fan base that is extremely feral for him and he uses them to target other accounts and harass people who annoy him. Or when he's bored.

Laezel: her entire account is just clips the Shadowheart takes of her mispronouncing words or being irritable. She gains a surprising amount of followers. There starts to be an underground plot to figure out if shafowheart and laezel live together, with fans pointing out background items that match. Neither of them address it directly.

Halsin: it... it's a nature channel. Camera is set up on a log or something at a bad angle and he either whittles in silence for 15 minutes and then shows u a duck, or the camera is in his hands shaking and being fumbled regularly with his thumb half over the mic and the view isn't always in focus but you're pretty sure he's telling you about the symbiotic relationship of moss on a tree. Most of his comment section is people asking him to take his shirt off.

Gale: his tiktok would be exactly what is VA's tiktok already is probably honestly ajsdgjdhdhjg. But OK, so he would absolutely wear velvet outfits and spend 30+ minutes describing one book at a time per video feom his giant library. Sometimes does wine reviews, or cheese reviews. Mixed in is short videos of Tara snoring or her paws twitching in her sleep.

[slowlymyavenue]

SYMBIONT

For instructive purposes, you should have a glass of water nearby before you continue.

Those of you who haven't yet encountered the black fluid are likely curious as to precisely what it is. The description will require a bit of imagination, but it is very much worthwhile. Consider the glass of water, for a moment.

Water provides a basic perspective through which to view the black fluid. You understand most of the properties of water on a fundamental level: the way it feels, the way it flows, the way it cools, the way it quenches thirst, the way it can soothe. It is a basic facet of life on earth. But what if there was something more to it?

Imagine, for instance, a droplet of ink falling into the glass of water. You have some idea of how it behaves in the water, how it tinges the fluid for a moment as it dissolves. There's a second of sharp contrast, and in that instant you can perceive something as the ink flows over its surface inside the water - something that was invisible in the water before.

This is the form of the black fluid. The appearance changes depending on the viewer. For some, it is a sphere within the water. Others see the outline of a spiral. Just as quickly as the ink illuminated it, the black fluid disappears within the water once more.

Now you are intrigued, so let's explore. Dip your finger into the water, right where the ink blot was before it vanished. Bring the droplet out, and place it on your wrist.

The water flows along your skin in its familiar fashion, but you notice the faintest film beneath. It is heavier than the water, and it feels distinct, but it is little more than a light pressure on the surface of your skin.

Like water, the black fluid can flow across anything. Unlike water, the fluid behaves very differently on certain surfaces - like your skin. It can rest innocuously in a glass of water, in a shower, in a bathtub or spa...practically anywhere. Once it touches your skin, however, it becomes very reactive. The fluid begins to expand, and you can feel it doing so: a light tingling sensation on your wrist. It is a bit strange at first, but generally pleasant.

Whereas water expands to fill a container, the black fluid expands to become a container. This requires energy, of course, so you should know that the black fluid is drawing that energy from you. It pulls at your curiosity, and your thoughts fuel its expansion. The pull, much like the pressure, is subtle and light; you wouldn't notice it if you weren't fixated on it already.

You are fixated on it, though, and the fluid has already encircled your wrist. The more skin it covers, the more it begins to thicken and take shape. You can tell now that it is smooth, sleek. It feels cool against your skin at first, but quickly warms to match your temperature. The black fluid adapts quickly, and it will go to great lengths to keep you comfortable.

By now, you can tell that it is actively feeding on your thoughts. It makes your mind a bit sluggish, but there is a kind of pleasure in that unresponsiveness. The fluid behaves symbiotically. That is, while you feed it thoughts, it gives you pleasure. That was the source of the light tingling sensation before. It was simply too faint to tell the nature of the feeling. It is no longer so faint, and the fluid has covered your hand.

I'm sure you're curious, so run the fingers of that hand along your other arm. The black fluid feels smooth, almost rubbery. It also takes the opportunity to spread from your fingers to your arm and continue expanding, faster now. It is almost like it can tell you are focused on it. As the fluid expands on both of your arms, the pull on your thoughts grows significantly stronger...as does the pleasure you receive when each thought disappears.

It isn't an obstruction to the fluid, but you will enjoy the sensation more without your clothes. Take them off, if you haven't already. You'll find that the movement causes the fluid to spread everywhere you touch. It clings to you like a second skin.

I call it the black fluid because black ink illuminates it. It can shift colors to suit your preferences - as I mentioned, it will go to great lengths to keep you comfortable. You are its host, after all.

Without clothes, you can more easily savor the sensation of the black fluid expanding to contain you. Take a moment now to do just that. The fluid will flow much faster along your skin if you actively give it your thoughts. Close your eyes, and deliberately feed the fluid. Take in the pleasure it gives you as it covers your body. Once you are covered from the neck down, you'll open your eyes and continue.

It hasn't been an issue so far, but it is fair to inform you that the black fluid can control any part of you that it covers. Now, as an example, it causes you to firmly squeeze your breasts. The act allows you to recognize another property of the fluid. When you have run out of thoughts, it begins to feed on your will. When you run out of will, it begins to feed on your arousal.

Covering your body gives the black fluid a far more potent ability to influence your mind. You find yourself deeply attracted to the notion of feeding the black fluid your will and your arousal. It is difficult to entertain any other ideas, right now.

While you are entertaining the thought of feeding the black fluid, it is moving your hand to your pussy and causing you to stroke slowly. The fluid amplifies sensation to make up for covering you, so you feel far more sensitive than you are used to being. Enjoy that sensitivity, and appreciate your perception of the fluid feeding on your resulting arousal.

It will soon become very difficult to read, as the black fluid can sometimes get overzealous in its feeding when it first covers a new symbiotic host. That's okay - for now, your exploration can be strictly physical. We'll get to the rest later.

Allow the fluid to compel you to stroke your pussy, your breasts, your nipples. Fixate on the desire to feed the black fluid your thoughts, will, and arousal. It is going to bring you to orgasm at least once, typically twice, before it recedes from your skin to await its next feeding. While you stroke, you may close your eyes or you may sit attentively and stare into the image below. You'll drift back to consciousness shortly after the fluid recedes.

As always, enjoy.

[brisquad-unit-4402]

being gorgeous

HAHA SORRY I'M A LITTLE LATE TO THE 2.0 REVEAL THIRST PARTY i passed out while writing this yesterday and it shows. and then i've done nothing else today except for write, eat a donut, write, reheat some pork chops, write, join an online meeting, and write. it's 8:23 am. bonus points if you can pinpoint the exact moment i dropped my phone and fell asleep last night. and also the point where it turned morning here and i started getting goofy. literally no matter what happens all roads lead to Oh My God Why Is Shu So Beautiful

funny story while i was writing this: i wrote p much all of this on my pc and i have all of the noctyx puppets around my desk area but taichou is the only one that's actually on the desk and when i was starting out for the day i couldn't concentrate because he was just staring at me like ._. so i turned him around to face the wall and somehow that was what kicked off 3631 words???

shoutout to 🍰 anon for making soooo many of my neurons activate. we have a mutualistic symbiotic relationship and i think i'm going to go insane. i've spent the better part of the last 24 hours just writing this and nothing else i think i've actually lost it.

tags: established relationship, suggestive content, making out, 2.0 outfit, praise kink, humiliation kink, hurt/comfort, self-image positivity ig?, soft dom reader, gender neutral reader, sex references under the read more but there's no actual sex lol

⚠ suggestive/sexual content, praise kink, and humiliation kink under read more. content under read more is not intended for minors

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All that muscle, and still Shu finds himself between a wall and a hard place. He wanted to try on something new, and naturally you were the first to check him out.

And, God, you checked him out. He wore a loose black robe covered in the skeletons and bones you were so used to seeing on a daily basis. The robe nearly grazed the floor of the changing room, and as he shuffled his feet, the fabric wrapped around the outline of Shu’s strong calves before returning to rest. A plume of fur adorned one shoulder while the other bore a moon pauldron that only drew your eye to the broad shoulders underneath. He tied his long hair up into a ponytail, the dark interrupted by streaks of pink and blond by his bangs, and purple hair fell down his back and caught the gleam of his bright eyes.

Though those bright eyes were cloudier with the shyness of being the center of your attention. He resolved himself to confront it. He cleared his throat and met your gaze, and asked, “Do you like it?”

“Shu, look at yourself.” You grasped him by the shoulders and turned him around to face the mirror. “Of course I do. You’re beautiful.”

He tried to keep a straight face, but there was no way he’d be able to hide his red ears with his hair tied up. “How do you just say things like that so easily?”

“Because it’s true,” you said. You rested your chin on his shoulder, right next to the armor, and watched the mirror as his face turned to roses the same shade as the marking on his forehead.

You get comfortable. “You’ve always been so handsome no matter what you do.” Your hands hold him by his waist, but it doesn’t take you long before one roams upwards. His waistline slopes out to his chest, and you feel Shu’s body shift as your hand slides under the fabric and cups one side of his chest. The mirror serves as a reminder that you were practically on top of him. “But honestly, Shu, you look so hot I can’t believe it.”

“I- I do?”

You mutter in agreement before you kiss his neck, languid and low where it meets his collarbone.

Shu gasps in surprise as it turns passionate, traces of your teeth along skin usually hidden by his hair. He softens into you as you fondle him, and when you circle his nipple he knows he’s doomed.

Teeth sink into his skin, and his breath hitches at the sudden pain. It quiets as your tongue soothes the mark, and goes blinding as you flick his nipple in time with a long lick. Shu can’t help but moan at that. His shoulder rises as nervous energy drips down his body from where your lips cling to his neck, and he knows you can feel him tremble as you toy with his nipple.

The kisses rise higher on his neck, a line of desperation even though you know you have all the time in the world. It’s more like you need to make him know he’s cherished. You weren’t kidding when you complimented him earlier; he’s always been good-looking, and you’ve never been shy about that. But trying a different look made him just as tense as he was excited, so you’re here to shoo all those insecurities away. After all, you’d be lying if you said his new look didn’t turn you on.

You take a glance at the mirror's reflection. Shu's eyes are shut. His long lashes flutter between his makeup, and his lips are parted as he takes all the sensations in. Meanwhile, you look sly and calculated as you cast a sideways glance to your reflection. A bit of your tongue pokes out of your mouth and along your latest attack.

Using the mirror, you take Shu's head in your hands as your lips run over his ear. His eyes snap open into lovely crystal, stunned and sparkling.

“I don’t think I can resist you,” you whisper. "Look at yourself."

He averts his eyes. "I mean, I'm not all that."

"Oh, you are." You turn him to the mirror as your fingers glaze along his chin. Your nails lightly scratch at his jawline, and he can't help but stare at the movement in the mirror.

Out of the corner of his vision, he catches his expression and nearly kicks himself. Was he really that out of control? His horrors are realized when he notices the bead of saliva at the corner of his mouth. He swats the back of his gloved hand over it.

But you catch Shu's hand before he can even wipe it away. "Don't."

"But..."

"Stay still."

Following your command wasn't so hard. He was frozen in place anyways.

It takes everything he has to not react as you drag your tongue up his jawline between the fingernail scrapes. His heart hammers as your lick curls perfectly around his lip to catch the saliva before sliding it back into place inside his mouth.

He follows what feels natural, and when his tongue meets yours, fire runs in your blood. Outside it, too. Sorcerous flames kick alive around his head, then fade just as quickly as they appeared. He's a light show even in his invisible unconscious, and sparks course in your open-mouthed kiss in jolts of hot heaviness.

The hand that caught his earlier leads him as he takes a step back, then another, and his third ends flush against the wall. Shu's ponytail swirls around from the movement, and brushes along your body as you pin him to the wall of the changing room.

There's a loud smack as you end the kiss, breathless and heated. Shu's lashes blur over his enchanted purple eyes, and a few strands of black and gold-blond hair get in the way of his face.

"So handsome," you say, and move his head back to the mirror. "You can still see yourself?"

He barely rustles out a yes, but you feel his head nod slowly between the nails on his jaw and tangled in his hair.

"Good. I'm glad you get to see how handsome you really are." Your grasp crawls up to his cheek. "Watch yourself, and don't dare to look away. I want you to see yourself become a beautiful mess. Can you do that for me?"

Another nod, slower this time.

"Say it."

Shu swallows, and struggles to put the words together. He didn't think he was ugly per se, but he always thought of himself as just plain average. One of the many so-so faces out there in the world. All your praise breaks through those thoughts like an arrow smack-dab in the center of a target, however, and he's abashed at how easily you can say something he's never considered himself as.

It's unfamiliar. A new feeling, really, and likely the one he was dreading when he decided to wear something new for a change. Shu doesn't consider himself a head-turner—that's usually reserved for one of his friends, and he's used to watching them in the limelight from his own comfortable corner of darkness—so now that he's the one against the wall with eyes on him and nowhere to run, hot shame tempers his blush. The mirror only intensifies the feeling.

He looks back at himself. His hair's already messed up from the hand against his scalp, and one side of his neck peppered with the indentation of fangs along the soft skin. Not to mention his decidedly uncute face, with hands far prettier than his own around his jawline, murky eyes crinkled from his perverted pleasure, and yet another string of saliva down from his swollen-red lips. It was probably left over from the kiss. He thinks he should call it disgusting.

Your face rests along his in the mirror, and he can feel your breath on his cheek as you massage his flustered face. You're way more attractive than he is, and he has to wonder: does such an average-looking guy like him really deserve to have such a beautiful person dote over him like this?

"It's okay to indulge yourself, you know," you suggest. Your voice is golden caramel and rich chocolate. "You really are gorgeous. Even if you don't believe it."

Gorgeous. The word bounces around his head. He's never been called gorgeous before, and he nearly turns away on instinct.

The new feeling, he decides, is being gorgeous.

You smooth over one of the long locks of hair along his chest, where you teased him earlier. It feels like silk through your fingers, and as you reach higher Shu's eyes widen just a little more. Then you see the glassiness between the color, and you realize there's more going on in his head than you thought.

"I'll take care of you, if you want me to." You put your agenda on hold just to make sure you aren't about to overwhelm Shu. "Do you want me to?"

"Reader, do you really think..." Shu lowers his head as he fights to form the sentence. "You really think I'm... that?"

"I do."

"And you're not just saying that?"

"You are, I swear. Here, let's take a break real fast." You step away and give Shu some space, but he keeps his back against the wall. He exhales, and the color drains from his face. “Stop me if you need me to. But when we met, I thought you were really pretty. I really liked your sense of style, and the colors in your hair, and I liked to sneak looks at your biceps." You laugh a little at that. "I love your eyes a lot. They're really bright, and whenever you smile, they always squint a little.

"That's one of the other things I really love about you, whenever you smile. You like to laugh. So you smile often, and it's always because they're something to be happy about, and that makes me happy too. Sometimes because it affects me too, and sometimes, just because I love whenever my partner gets to enjoy himself."

You scratch the back of your head. "And, um, I came off a little strong when I saw you, so I'm sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean to do that at all. It's just that I got used to seeing your usual outfit, so now that you're trying something new..." You laugh again, but this time it's a gentle giggle, and without lust fueling you, you feel a bit embarrassed. "I mean, I really did think you were beautiful before, especially once we got closer, and I got to explore you more. But this is a whole other level. You've really outdone yourself. Like, I couldn't even hold back when I saw you, I was just so attracted to you that I didn’t even think. I really should have, though. I didn’t mean to cross a boundary.”

Shu’s eyebrows raise. “What? You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s just that…”

He trails off. He slumps over and slides down the wall with a sigh as he sits. His ponytail rests along the floor and along one of his sleeves. "I know you compliment me often, but I never thought you seriously meant it. No one's ever said things like that to me before."

"Really?" You sit next to him. "Should I stop?"

"No! No, you're fine. I mean. I think... It's not like I didn't like it." Shu buries his face into his hands and groans. "I really liked it, actually. I think it was just too new, and it's second nature for me to deny how good it feels, and—" He cuts himself off to muster up his courage. He lowers his hands just enough to peek out, but his fingers thread through each other and hide his face. "I've never been called gorgeous before."

"Was that okay?"

"It was perfect," he admits. His eyebrows relax, and his eyes squint. You don't need to see the rest of his face to know his lips curved up. But he dilutes his swoon with another sigh, and you can tell he's disappointed in himself as he drops his hands to his side. "I wish I wasn't in my head when you said it. Sorry for ruining a good moment."

"You didn't ruin anything, Shu, what are you talking about?" You reach to hold his hand, but hesitate, unsure if he wants to be touched. But he turns his palm over to met yours, and you connect. "I'm glad we're talking about it, and I'm hoping that it's helping you work through it, too. I'd hate to do or say anything to you that you couldn't handle."

"Thank you. That's really sweet of you." You take in how he wraps his fingers around yours and squeezes. "I'm going to calm down for a moment."

You sit together for a moment. His face is a slideshow between thoughts, and you rub circles along his hand with your thumb as he recomposes himself. You trust him.

You send comfort through your fingertips on the changing room floor, and his deep breathing turns to silence as a minute passes by. Then Shu turns to you, and lifts your hand in his. "Do you want to try again?"

"You're up for it?"

He nods, and this time it's with all his energy. "I was really looking forward to it. Can we?"

"Of course, Shu, anything for you." Already you're starting to feel warm. You get up to your feet, and bring Shu with you.

You're not so sure if Shu is aware of this, but even in his weakest moments, he moves elegantly. Not so much that it looks practiced, but he rises nimble like the shadows he channels his sorcery through. His long hair rests on his sleeves, then slips behind his back airily as the leathery wing along his torso flares with the motion.

He doesn't let go of your hand, even as he steps back and rests against the wall.

"You're okay with this?" You ask.

"It felt nice."

Your hand lets go of his, but it doesn't break away from his glassy-clear skin, and instead takes in the shape of his arm. His inner wrist is so soft, but the skin gets pleasantly rougher as you continue upwards into the plush of his forearm, and by the time you reach the peak of his biggest muscles, the plush turns firm.

The other holds him by his hips right under the sash of his robes. You can wrap yourself so easily around his waistline, and the urge to snatch him up is stifling.

But you're on a mission, and Shu's straight nose is dusted with pink, and when your hands both squeeze his body, a short gleam of fire spirals out behind him, and yet, his vivid, royal eyes are what captivate you the most.

You're so lost in his long lashes and the flecks of galaxy that you feel helpless, even with him pinned underneath you. "Shu, can I kiss—"

You get your answer before you even finish the question.

It's like you never paused in the first place. He enters your mouth first, and you match his movements, crossing along his tongue as if it was your lifeblood. It probably is. Shu has a tendency to unlock hunger like you've never known it before.

His arms unconsciously flex at the contact. Aroused, you drive forward and force him further against the wall, and when you hear the rumble of a moan between your connected lips, your fingers clutch harder at his waist.

Your bodies are flush against one another, and as you lean forward, you feel the telltale silkiness of his hair. You don't dare to open your eyes as you fumble around for a tuft to tangle your hands in. Shu pulses in your mouth as you take hold, and parts just enough to aim for your bottom lip as he returns the favor and bites. You hear a lewd, liquidy smack as he hurriedly glosses over the nip, then back to your parted lips. Every time there's even the slightest tension between his hair and your fingers, you notice, he rushes to kiss you harder.

So when he goes in for another round, you move your mouth away. His eyes flutter open in confusion, then shocks into surprise as you drag him in front of you. The mirror reflects his surprise right back at him.

Your head perches on Shu's shoulder. "You up for this, baby? You want to see?"

The heat returns. His reflection is another reminder of how he's totally at your mercy, and all the shame that comes with being so whipped that he already looks this ruined.

But you called him beautiful earlier. Gorgeous.

He kind of likes the shame.

"Yeah," Shu says, breathless. "Y-yeah, I do."

"Good boy," you coo, and that washes a whole new set of feelings over him that he files away for later. He tucks his chin away, embarrassed at the name, but he's still focused on the reflection as your reach to the top of his head and the beginnings of his ponytail.

Shu grew his hair out long, and you comb through the ponytail as it loosens down his back. "Pretty boy," you say. Your voice is tempting so close to his ear, especially as you gather his hair together. "Pretty boy with pretty hair. You take good care of it."

He lets out a hum deep in his throat as you smooth through it, only for it to turn into a startled choke as you grab at the base of his head. He chides himself for not seeing through your plan, but not enough to stifle how the choke turns into a moan as you pull. His neck jerks back. Then your lips make contact with his nape like a vampire to prey, and the moan turns into an even more humiliating yelp. The mirror proudly displays his neediness, but the high pitch is yours alone to keep.

"Didn't mark this side earlier." You mutter as you blow cool air over your latest kiss, and bask in how he shivers storms. "You like that?"

"Mmm, feels good," he says, voice wavering.

"Sounded like it, too. I liked hearing it. Gives me a chance to keep playing around with you."

His common sense tells him to protest, but he's too enthralled by the rough kisses and pulls. You tug on his hair to move him instead of asking him, and the way that you can command him without even using words both impresses and mortifies him.

It's the bites that send him over the edge, though. His nape is your territory. The first hickeys have already darkened on the other side, and when he sees you ravenous over his elongated neck, it's dirty and starved and lovely.

You press a kiss under Shu's ear and he jolts at the pleasure. When you suck, he inhales shakily, and lolls his head to the side. He had no idea that he just put himself in the perfect position. "Just like that, stay still. That's perfect." You weave your fingers through an open seam in his outfit, and when you leave your next mark, it's with your hands over his chest underneath the fabric. You grope his cleavage. "Perfect, perfect, perfect."

"H-how did you even— nngh, ah!"

His nipples were already hard enough, but then you just had to go and twist the damn thing like it wouldn't send him so far down to hell that he'd come back up in heaven.

"Just like that, Shu, baby, you're doing so well!" A flick on the bud here, a pull on his ponytail there, your words barely able to ring out as you frenzy between the kisses and the licks.

Whatever noise hangs in the air, it's downright pornographic, and it's only when Shu sees his open mouth in the mirror that he realizes that's his voice. It wobbles between a cry and a huff. Pink and purple dances around his hazy reflection, but as aroused as he is, he recognizes them as his harmless fire. He didn't even know he did that.

The fire trails behind his head as everything goes hot. He can barely think straight, but the only thing coursing through his mind is that he's never been able to feel delight like this before.

Where you stand behind him, Shu rolls his hips, his neck still held back against your body. You've been doing such a good job of keeping yourself together, but the slow coursing is a death sentence. You welcome it wholeheartedly.

"Mm, Shu...!" That elegance is seriously biting you in the ass right now. Even when he's horny, he's graceful, but you ache for more.

And even when he's submissive, he's strong. You tend to forget that those biceps aren't just for show.

Shu practically plucks you out of the embrace and to his side. His voice is husky but whiny. "Mirror or not, I'm not about to go down on you standing up."

"Let's get you a bed," you negotiate. The sooner you can get all you love out of your system, the better. "Lead the way, gorgeous."

He doesn't waste any time at all. He holds his arm out along the small of your back and rests his hand against where your hips connect with your thighs, and as you shuffle out of the changing room he keeps you close to his, brushing up against you all the while. You'd almost think he was preening.

"Gorgeous," you utter. Hopefully he learns how one day.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[fastcardotmp3]

Nancy Wheeler needs a steadier set of hands.

It’s a vital thing, the steadiness, and one which she’s prided herself on for a long time now, but in this moment? On this endless night? Nancy needs a steadier set of hands.

She stands along the wall, close to the door because it’s crowded beyond measure in the double-wide trailer that’s used primarily as a med center and because it’s hard enough to breathe during this conversation without direct access to an exit.

The fingers of her right hand tap against the side of her thigh, a discordant rhythm which her ballet instructors of her youth would have disparaged on the spot. Stay in time, Nancy! Don’t be so hesitant, Nancy! Did you forget how to count, Nancy?!

Her fingers tap, but the beat of her heart is not much better at keeping consistent time, so what is she meant to count along with? Where is the pace being set? Where is the music to guide her through this moment as her unsteady hands reach into the bag slung across her body and pull out a bottle of lake water, black as pitch and viscous?

Where is her partner in this pas de deux as the glass clatters with the uncontrollable force she uses to set it down on the table at the center of the room?

“Jesus Christ.”

“That’s our drinking water?”

“It looks like— like fuckin’ Venom.”

“What the hell is Venom, Henderson?”

“From Spider-Man? Symbiote alien from another planet and—”

“That’s our drinking water?”

Nancy stands against the wall.

She watches and she listens as they pass the bottle around, the glass face boasting Coca-Cola loud enough that it almost really does just look like a bottle of flat soda, and she chooses to let them bicker.

There was a time, some many months ago now, when Nancy would have walked in and at the very least pretended at enough confidence and certainty to convince everyone she had a plan and they would all be okay and they wouldn’t all die of thirst because the Upside Down and the entity controlling it has finally decided that direct action against their resources might be more efficient that sending monsters through the gates has been so far.

There was a time, indeed, when Nancy might have even felt such confidence, such certainty, but she can't remember that sensation now.

Not a sensory memory within her reach, not a modicum of cautious optimism born from a girl who had not yet learned the undeniable yearning of loss.

Nancy is here, as Joyce forces them all into some semblance of focus, kids and adults and the meeting of the two alike, but Nancy is also there.

Nancy is sixteen again, making a choice which changed her life, a choice she weighs in her hands during every moment of quiet, during every moment of noise too. If she had gotten in the car with Barb, would they have been able to outrun the forces of the Upside Down together?

Would Nancy simply have been dragged to her death with her best friend instead?

Is she fucked in the head for thinking both of those options may have been better than the reality?

“We need Max,” El is saying, arguing back against the sudden surge of insistence to fight. “When I can get through to Max, then we will have the upper hand.”

She says it a little stilted, a turn of phrase she's heard more than she's used, one which she likely only knows in this specific context.

Jonathan is standing beside her, close enough to offer visible support.

Eddie has a finger looped through the belt at Steve's waist, doing the same.

Robin sits beside Erica, Lucas on the other side of his sister, and Dustin pacing in the small space behind the couch.

Nancy leans against the wall by the door.

“We can't just wait around,” Steve shakes his head, almost in apology. “Vecna or— or the other thing, whatever's in charge at this point— it's making a play, right? That's what's happening? It's going on offense and we can't just keep playing defense, we have to actually make a play back.”

Nancy feels a headache brewing behind her eyes, clenches and unclenches her right hand in a fist to try and find something like stability. Fails at it.

“We've been holding our ground long enough,” Robin agrees with him boldly, “we understand how to fight back. If we catch him by surprise...”

“But can we? Catch him by surprise?” Lucas now, deep bags of grief under his eyes which Nancy understands all too well.

She wishes for him to never understand it as well as she does.

She wishes for a lot of things.

“He's baiting us,” Dustin shakes his head. “We tried that game with— with Max,” a thick swallow, “and he's mocking us with it. We should wait. We aren't ready.”

“It doesn't matter whether or not we're ready,” Nancy hears herself speaking and the way all those eyes turn on her is the sort of being seen she's avoided all her life.

Ever since she was a child, she hasn't been able to stomach people pretending to know her. Ever since she was a child it's been a form of control, a form of expectation, another set of rules she's had to conform to and she's goddamn tired of it.

She's really just so tired.

“It doesn't matter,” she shrugs, crosses her arms and grips at her biceps so no one can see the way her hands shake. “We'll never be ready, but if we wait long enough we will get weaker because we won't have water and we won't have food and it will be winter. He'll freeze us out before we can even try. It doesn't fucking matter.”

Things are escalating where the people of Hawkins are still trapped in the wasteland. In the midst of it, Nancy Wheeler finds catharsis, and maybe even hope. sequel to "that's just wasteland, baby!"

Ronance | 15.5k words | rated E

read on ao3

[the-kr8tor]

Hobie Brown Request Masterlist II

Check the rules here

Main Masterlist

My navigation

*I don't consent to having my work translated published on other platforms and copy and pasted on any Ai software*

Holiday Party with Hobie

Making gifts with Hobie - Symbiote cat au

Awkwardly flirting with santa Hobie

At the craft store with Hobie

Ice skating with Hobie

A snowy day at the Brown household- Twin AU

Trying to wake up Hobie

Babying Hobie

Gamer! Hobie

Fae! Hobie helps your garden grow

You and Hobie handle childhood wonder- Twin AU

Going grocery shopping with the twins.

Doing Hobie's eyeliner for him.

Finding Hobie cuddling your plushie.

Finding out your simple stomach bug is bigger than a bug.

Carnival date with Hobie

Reading thirst tweets with Hobie - famous au

Fae! Hobie headcanons.

Cowboy! Hobie helps you move in

Cowboy! Hobie x singer! Reader

Hobie takes care of a very drunk you.

Taking cowboy! Hobie's hat

Celebrating Chinese new year with Hobie - asian! Reader

Valentine's day with Hobie

Blob is jealous of you and Hobie- cat symbiote AU

Hobie x librarian! Reader

You ask Hobie to elope

You do henna on Hobie

Hobie helps you cut off a toxic friend

Hobie x witchy! Reader

Pirate! Hobie meets Blob

Hobie shows you his new piercing

Hobie teases the hell out of you

[malue-505]

Operators

(Just like my other posts, the info below are my headcanons! These headcanons are inspired by Slenderman’s original and contemporary Mythos, Slenderverse, The Necromancer from the “Creepy Frozen Pasta” comic by LostWight, the Slenderman in “The Seer” comic by Madame Macabre, @the-catcake’s character Red Spider and Slender Doll Ally by @the-slender-doll! I am very open to questions about this species, I am sorry if some of the info below is worded weirdly or I’ve missed a typo. This post does not indicate the final product of the species as it’s still in long development. This serves as a semi-detailed overview and introduction to the Operators.)

(Anyone can use this whole species for their AU as long as credit is given to me. Credit should not be given to me if it is something I based it off of such as the hybrid aging, the Influence, the name “Operator” and the Slender and Necromancer Class. Keep in mind that this info is subject to change as it has changed a lot over the course of the years I’ve worked on this.)

(Side Notes: The Classes, Influenced and hybrids will, hopefully, get their own dedicated posts in the future. Most of the info here is simplified for the post.)

“An Operator’s thirst is never fully satisfied. Even the ones who wish to live in peace with their Influenced are not satisfied but they do not notice due to their ignorance. Our kind is not from this world but we don’t know our true home, perhaps we don’t have one and we keep looking for it.”

- Lord Luxult, a Shifter Operator

In the presence of every Operator lives an uncanny amount of mystique and an other-worldly aura. They are often seen as symbols of power, dominion and control.

Operators are a species that are most known by their psychic capabilities to control other beings via their minds. They generate their own force, known as the Influence, that is regarded as their most defining trait.

Through their iron will and their Influence they conquer their way through the Realms and fight against other Operators for territory, servants and vanity. When an Operator is at the center of operations, others become wary as they have been given a sense of the possible scale of the operation when an Operator is in charge.

Operators come in different types, or Classes, requiring Influenced to fulfill certain specialized roles. Because of this, certain Classes of Operator require their Influenced to be specific species. These species are called Influenced Species, which are tailor made for Operators to use.

Classes

Classes are the way Operators are identified and categorized. There is no “original class” or “main class.” Subclasses exist whenever genetic mutations happen within a Class to the point where they can split off. Subclasses of Subclasses can also exist.

Hundreds of Classes exist and have various differences such as: appearance, birth procedures, behavior, abilities, symbiotic relationships, complexity and Influence control. Each Class has a Base Bloodline that originates from the first ever born Operator of the Class, beings that converted to Operatorism may start their own bloodlines within the Class they got converted into.

Attributes

Operators tend to share common characteristics, mind control being the most prominent. Mutations in the gene pool are also common amongst the species, this leads to variations in a species that asexually reproduces a lot and leads to powers that are unique to an individual. Specialized sicknesses are also common amongst Operators, specifically the parasitic Classes. All full-blooded Operators cannot talk in Human Realm and instead use their Influenced to talk for them or use telepathy.

They are immune to most stimuli but every Class/Subclass have their own weaknesses. Every Class has their own type of “6th sense” that allows them to be psychically in-tune with their surroundings. All Class Senses can detect any physical beings or objects around them.

Every Operator has a drive to control and feed. This drive is simply named as the “Operator Hunger” and it is practically impossible to fight back against. The Operator Hunger is like an urge or an itch that they have to satisfy. If not, it becomes barely livable to linger with. The only way to satisfy it is to control over beings and to continue to feed and hunt. This solution is only temporary as an Operator needs to indulge more and more. The more they give into the Operator Hunger, the more likely an Operator will lose themselves in it. It’s a vicious cycle that sees no end.

Shifters & Slenders

Slender is a Class of Operator that are most known for their extreme parasitic nature towards their Influenced. Slenders used to be known as Shifter Operators (short for Shapeshifter) until roughly about a thousand years ago when the then new generation became stuck in a slender humanoid form. Slenders should technically be considered a Subclass but the fact that they have fully replaced the Shifters has led to the entire Class being renamed. Their past Shifter bloodline still spiritually lives on in more ways than one.

Slenders are the most versatile and adaptable of all the Classes, making them particularly dangerous. Traditional Slenders usually lead lavish lifestyles often expressed through their attires and their residences.

Necromancers

Necromancer is a Class of Operator that are most known for raising undead corpses to be their Influenced. They are Parasitic Operators. Necromancers are also very sensitive to temperatures due to being made of “organic ice” that is essentially their skin.

Necromancers have to live in extremely cold temperatures which is why they are usually found on snowy mountains, giant ice caverns and frozen valleys.

Recluses

Recluse is a Class of Operator that is most known for being the most reclusive Class of Operator. Recluses become blind once they reach the age of twelve. Most, if not all, Recluses are unaware of the world they live in, much less their own bloodline. These Operators are also known for their camouflage since they coated in plants and flowers that belong to their respective habitat. Recluses are sensitive to extreme weather and climate changes due to them having actual plants on them that become a part of their skin. They are Mutualistic Operators.

Sirens

Siren is a Class of Operator that is most known for having a lot of Siren-like qualities from mythology. Siren Operators are beings that live in the saltwater oceans. These Operators don’t usually claim any territory as they keep searching for prey just above the surface.

Similarly to Sirens in mythology, Siren Operators spread their Influence by using their alluring voice to lure in prey with hypnosis to attack and to feed off of. They are Parasitic Operators.

Elves

Elf is a Class of Operator that is most known for having a lot of Elf-like qualities from mythology. They are also known for being the Class that is the most friendly with their Influenced. Unlike most Operators, Elves gather together in a group and build their own small neighborhoods known as a “community.” They are Mutualistic Operators that spread their Influence by recruiting humans to their community.

Influence

The Influence is an invisible force that is only generated and manipulated by Operators. Its main purpose is to mind control other beings to benefit an Operator. However, the Influence is quite versatile and has since been applied in other ways for different situations. The Influence can also act as an “applier” or “relay” for Operators to use their abilities whenever, wherever and on whatever is needed. Another common usage for the Influence is more marking permanent territory, both for keeping out trespassers and luring in prey.

Influence generating occurs whenever an Operator comes of age, some Classes can’t generate their Influence until later on in their development. Their Influence grows stronger the more they grow and the more they utilize it.

Influenced

Influenced are the beings that are mind controlled and/or connected to an Operator. Depending on the Class of Operator, an Influenced may experience certain side effects. Influenced of Parasitic Operators face erratic symptoms such as migraines, insomnia, dissociation, and feral outbursts. Influenced of Mutualistic Operators may experience similar symptoms but at a much milder rate. An Operator can sense where their Influenced are, what is their mental state, what caused that mental state, and (in the case of a foreign Influenced) detect what Operator is influencing them.

There are certain conditions that stops an Operator from sensing their Influenced. These conditions include: being too far away, resisting their Operator’s mental will, or a change in brain chemistry. The change in brain chemistry is usually caused by certain types of medication and drugs that can affect the brain.

Two Operators, or more, can fight for control over an Influenced in the Influenced’s mind however this will cause extreme discomfort which would result in painful migraines depending on how many Operators are fighting for control and how strongly.

As a side effect, an Influenced may start gaining some of their Operator’s abilities overtime if they aren’t an Influenced Species already.

Aging

Operators are biologically immortal, meaning that they can’t die from old age but by being killed. The more they grow up, the slower they age. Operators as old as 12 are considered children and Operators in their 90s are considered to be in the last years of their adolescence. Through their years of adulthood, they age even slower when they reach 500 years of age.

Operators are considered full-grown adults at the age of 100. This is the age when Operators are able to reproduce. Most Classes can generate their Influence earlier in life however Slenders can only generate theirs at this age.

Only full-blooded Operators from birth properly age like this.

Operatorism

Operatorism is the phenomenon of a being stepping into Operatorhood as a different species. Only full-blooded Operators can turn others into Operators. How the conversion works and how it happens is shrouded in mystery.

The current age of the being that’s being converted dictates how many years they skipped and have to catch up on when they convert. A 20 year old human that has been turned into a Slender Operator will look like a 100 year old Slender since that is the age equivalent. In this example, the former human will have to wait 100 years in order for their body to continue aging. They would also have to wait those 100 years to be able to reproduce.

Operatorism only applies to beings that turn into full-blooded Operators.

Hybrids

Operator hybrids can be a complicated situation. Considering the complicated nature of Operator genes, their hybrids can get very unstable. The only types of Operator hybrids that aren’t unstable are the Operators that are hybrids of other Classes or Subclasses of Operator since it is of the same species. They also have all of the abilities from each Class/Subclass they are, they don’t experience near any negative side effects. They exhibit all the usual Operator attributes.

Operator hybrids are at times difficult to predict when it’s a hybrid with a different species. Human/Operator hybrids are amongst the most hard to predict as well as the most unstable usually. Operator abilities are usually too much for the human soul and will cause the soul to split and develop two or more forms based on the Operator genes. This also causes them to have weak copies of Operator abilities, even then they get very few of them. Operator hybrids with other species cannot generate an Influence nor do they suffer from the Operator Hunger.

Some hybrids suffer from constant necrosis and various other side effects, every hybrid is an individual case. Some are more similar than others.

Aging when it comes to hybrids are also a one-by-one case. If they are undead, it further complicates things. Unlike beings who became full-blooded Operators, how a hybrid ages depends on if they were born or made a hybrid. Those born as a hybrid will age like how their other species would and stop aging when they reach adulthood. Beings who are not hybrids at birth will, similarly, stop physically aging when they reach adulthood. Undeads, who were not hybrids at birth, will slowly age according to how Operators would normally age albeit a bit delayed.

Operator hybrids all have one thing in common: they must possess Operator blood in their body.

Origins & Reputation

Even after existing for thousands, possibly millions, of years, Operators are still regarded as being mysterious. It is suspected by the older members of the species that they are alien in origin. Others don’t know what to make of their origins. To some, they have either always been here or just appeared with no explanation.

Over the millenniums, Operators, particularly the parasitic ones, have dominated over a lot of other species. Slenders especially have gained a fierce reputation. Due to shallow beliefs, many apply the standards and expectations they have for Slenders to the entire species.

This has made them gain their reputation as nothing but malevolent beings who want nothing but everything to themselves and to claim everything they see as their property.

Trivia

Since Operators have the tendency on getting out of control and any individual can possible be a threat, the Council decided to use the same system of identifying individuals with surnames as human society does. Their Class name serves as their surnames to further be specific on what Class of Operator they are. This only applies to the Base Bloodlines.

Operators, particularly Slenders, practice Proxism quite a lot since they use it to further gain control over their Influenced. It also helps them establish hierarchies between their servants.

There are many ways for Subclasses to be made. One of which is experimentation through dissecting and changing a Class’ genes.

Operators cannot impregnate other species through intercourse. Beings born as a hybrid Operator with another species usually happen through weirder means.

For Operators that are hybrids of other Classes, they are only made from birth. Usually by combining the blood of Operators of other Classes and combining the reproduction procedures from each Class involved.

Operators have no known creator. Their origins are completely unknown.

The name “Operator” refers to how Operators, through the mind, can potentially operate an entire being. They used to be known by other names such as “Conquerors,” “Psionic Rulers” and “Masters of the Mind.”

Operator blood is quite unique. They are often named after elements or ingredients of alchemy such as Azoth for the Slenders’ blood.

There is only one species representative for them at the Council which is Councilor Nathaniel Slender, Slenderman’s oldest brother.

[monsterfuckabilitytournament]

alright! we're still in the very early phases of this tournament while submissions are still coming in. in the meantime, i am running some practice polls with the most commonly thirsted after monsters. these polls will have no sway over the actual tourney. feel free to submit any monsters that come up over the next few days yourself as it's always fun to see more propaganda for our favorite horny beasts!

and just to be clear about what i count as submit worthy:

movie/TV/comic monsters (creature of the black lagoon, king kong, symbiote)

creatures of classic folklore (vampires, demons, naga)

urban legends and cryptids (bigfoot, mothman)

mythological beings (kraken, minotaur)

fantasy creatures (orcs, dragons, treants)

pretty much anything else you can think of as long as it isn't included in the list below

here are the few things i won't count as submissions

any gods so as to be respectful

specific characters (edward cullen, jack russel, venom) though i'll allow iconic movie monsters like godzilla that are more cultural icons that singular characters

i think that's it but might add stuff later on if anything comes up

also, just cause i mentioned a monster above does not mean it has been submitted yet. so go wild!

[thegayestofagendas]

I know we all love the idea of a big Venom cock, but like Venom literally just shape-shifts really. He doesn't have a default genitalia as far as I know. Why couldn't he form a vulva? Why can't he get pounded for a change? I'm sure it's out there somewhere, but in my searches I don't find instances of Venom receiving any pounding and I think this is an unreasonable limitation. He can literally do anything! I think we aren't using our imagination enough or correctly here and oh fuck, oh shit, I'm gonna have to write it, won't I!

[majestativa]

The trail of the butterfly is as transient as our childhood memories. The earthquake of senses may hinder that growth if fear paralyzes the mind. The mind nests safely in the realm of beauty, and beauty is an awful mirage, and mirages are unholy, and unholy is a life devoid of passion and the blue of noons, and noon is the cross of time, and time is the blade we use to cut our stitched mouths, and mouths are venerable like dust, like air, like water, and water is poetry, so your thirst deepens… and hunger is magnified, and everything matters, and nothing does. The mania of the soul thunders, and the damage is done. The damage is irrevocable. On y fonce. You’ll spend the rest of your life yearning to yearn with progressing intensity for the unattainable, for the wholesome only found in the realm of God. That unity. That oneness. That immaculate art that beats and elevates all hearts. And yet vice never misses an opportunity to remind you of its feverish existence. A volcano yearning to erupt. You sympathize with its yearning. For you are a ‘yearner’ yourself. Subconsciously activated. Occultly dissipated. Repeated, oh repeated, ad nauseam. Insisting, glued everywhere, a pulsating wound, vibrant with life, leading to the symbiotic dance with existence. Your ego is a connoisseur of torture. Its skeletal hand travelling your spine. “Can’t I tear that wound asunder, and take a bit of my rotten flesh with it?” The entities’ petty glare answers no. The scornful mouths mouth unintelligible prophecies. You’ve ceased to believe in them since so so so long. The mouths disapprove of your choice of breaking free. You must swallow what you’re served. You are their guest of honor. Sit straight. You’re not allowed to have bewitching eyes, or else they’ll be gouged. ‘You are born to struggle’, say theirs, ‘never deal with internal muses, they’ll drive you mad. Don’t question your acts. Get yourself a dragon wearing a human uniform; let it destroy you. Ponder not. Fornicate with bodies instead of ideas. Indulge idiotically and frantically in the senses of the flesh without reasoning. Trust them blindly. Let that train crash. Resist not. Seek not the symbolism of Pierrot and Colombine. Do not enter the realm of the occult. The occult does not exist. Do not draw the link between sigils, digitals and Tahitian Voodoo symbols. Don’t write about the overflowing  boredom and endless luxuries. Jump from a pair of arms to another, it’ll only deepen your inferno. Your in-ferran. We made it real. We made you real. You’ll carve their names on your body to forget them, and you will forget them, but you will not forget the pain. For only divine arms can help you remember to forget properly, and these are prematurely killed. Innocence belongs elsewhere.’ “I am a poem in detritus. My ashes are my memorabilia. I am a memento.”

Perhaps that’s the apotheosis of existence, the ex-existence. The x-istence, and existence is tense. First, discovering the power of breathing, enjoying the freshness of the concept for a while, then craving company to celebrate the discovery and breathe doubly, deeper, until you realize you’re inhaling cyanide. If that’s not the paroxysm of self-deception, I don’t know what else would be. That desire to erase one’s imperfect footsteps. One’s charade. And losing control all the way. Not controlling one’s death. Little freaks orbiting around the unstable, desiring to pin it and preserve it for display. A butterfly pinning an illusive one.

X-istence | 08/09.06.23

[cletus-kasadys-gay-boy]

My Queer analysis of Carnage:

Cletus Kasady is not an easy character to understand everything about, rarely providing any explanation for anything he does. However, in his first appearance in The Amazing Spider-Man #344. He is seen in his cell and comes off as far too masculine to me. Threatening and being sternly aggressive with Eddie Brock, building himself up to be a major threat to his life. Also with suggestive posters of women on his wall next to his bed, that weren't necessary in the slightest might I add. Macho man move to me, and knowing he's sharing a cell with someone??? That's a choice Cletus.

He genuinely sounds something like what I'd imagine his father, Roscoe Kasady, would speak. A firm man full of aggression, and I already did an analysis of Roscoe and how his behavior transfered to Cletus in a previous post. He still shines with his bastard personality, but not as evident as when he's bonded with something that makes him feel invincible. The Carnage symbiote that was left behind in that cell after Brock broke out with Venom.

As Carnage, he seems to go immediately through some crazy bullshit with people just because he can. He kills people of course, feeling the power he holds now and enjoying it. His attitude almost a full 360, of cracking jokes in every sentence and being completely unhinged with his silly behavior. Just laid back with a thirst for blood, the Cletus we know.

Snarky smart ass Cletus/Carnage is official now! but only after having the power of something that he feels complete with. Not just the violence, but the ability to be protected. Spider-man does an analysis of Cletus Kasady and realizes how his history was strange and not much time at all later, we see Cletus sitting in the St. Estes ruins holding his bear Binky and with a fire going.

He's strangely emotional and vulnerable, a weird way to see this weirdo. I fully believe he is letting go and killing who he was back then as he rips Binky immediately when he realizes Peter is there. Something I love about his character is he IS Carnage. Not like Venom and Eddie's bond where they're separate. Cletus finds himself best with Carnage, and he is able to be who he is with it. I see queer coding in movement and how he speaks, and even his fashion after his bond with the symbiote. He's free to be what he is now.

Of course, people weren't supportive of queer things back in the day. So some part of his abuse he faced as a kid, I belive was because of his "gay behavior" and people tried to force that out of him. He was always violent, but it was also all he had been shown. Shown he was wrong for how he was as soon as possible. As Carnage he doesn't give a fuck about that, he'll never be hurt like that again, and he knows it. I'm not saying he's gay, but I am hinting towards queer since his whole ideal is chaos and not falling in a category. He will like who he damn pleases and just him as a whole, is not what people will define as traditional in any way.

He gets to be himself with Carnage, and that's violent, unpredictable, snarky, and QUEER! Also I refuse to believe that a straight man dresses like this for no reason:

[gretchensinister]

okay what is Slurp?

*SHRIEK* LMAO this is one of the more embarrassing ones. It's Venom/Eddie and on the one hand it's about the exploration of overwhelming desire between two very different beings.

On the other hand, it's about Venom withdrawing almost it's entire mass from Eddie, leaving just enough behind to hold down his ankles and wrists and manipulate some nerves and hormones. It's about Venom merging Eddie's sexual desire with literal hunger...and feeding itself to Eddie to satisfy all the cravings they both have.

This excerpt is not safe for work.

***

But still Eddie wanted to love, and be loved, and be more than human.

And Venom wanted to love, and be loved, and be more than a symbiote.

And now they were.

Eddie stroked the tendril in his mouth with his tongue, warm, slick, gentle; inhaling sharply through his nose as Venom’s joy in the touch sent shivers of electric heat through his thighs and swiftly filled his cock. Their endocrine and pseudo-endocrine systems were so deeply entwined by now that even Venom wasn’t sure, with all the knowledge he’d gained about Eddie, that he could safely disentangle them.

It didn’t worry about that. They were one, and it was very good. Venom knew how to keep them alive, Venom knew how to make them thrive, and Venom knew how to heighten the pleasure they took in each other. That was enough. That was more than enough. 

It could change them. Could make their flesh shift and melt into a new human shape to walk among other humans with. Eddie had thought about it. But that wasn’t exactly what Eddie wanted. What Eddie wanted had been impossible until it wasn’t. Until Venom had come and redefined the possible for him. It loved that it could do that for him; that in the satisfaction of its deep craving it had been able to satisfy another’s. Eddie’s. Its Eddie’s.

Eddie sucked at the tendril in his mouth, instinct to satisfy hunger, thirst, the desire for closeness. Venom rippled, tiny sinusoids over its surface, trembling with the effort of keeping this form. It wanted to be this monster for Eddie, the overwhelming, restraining being, but, oh, how it longed to melt and flow and cover, to rest not just in Eddie’s mouth but all through him, to touch his living warmth with every pseudonerve and pump him from inside his skin until they came. It has done this many times, other times, and will do so again. But now it will resist that particular desire, for it knows other desires, too. It knows other cravings. It knows how to make Eddie crave it even more than he already does. It knows the bliss Eddie feels when it satisfies all those cravings, all those desires that are held separate (or almost separate) in an ordinary human mind. 

Venom pulsed to think of it, and when the tendril in Eddie’s mouth followed the shift, Eddie moaned and gagged even without a reflex to tell him to do so.

Eddie liked this, too, shifting his breathing to his nose with long habit, sucking and swallowing around Venom to regain his composure, to build his arousal, to prove that he wasn’t afraid.

Eddie. Oh, Venom hadn’t known what it could be like, to be so confident that what it craved would join with it again after separation, that craving could be used as a—as a toy.

He felt a question from Eddie: are you going to do it? Have you already done it? I want you I want you I want you so so much.

Not yet. Not yet. It wasn’t telling Eddie to wait, though. It was time, time to play the game of wanting. It was now a matter of manipulating a few tiny amounts of leptin, ghrelin, a couple others that Eddie and so Venom didn’t know the names of, and then—then Eddie didn’t just want Venom—he craved it.

Eddie groaned even as his stomach gave a low but undeniable rumble. It was madness for a human being to crave like this, to be so sexually aroused but also starving, and to have all this directed toward the same being. But it was the closest Eddie could experience of the all-consuming longing Venom felt toward Eddie, toward their shared existence.

Helplessly, Eddie sucked and swallowed around the tendril in his mouth, no conscious thought present. He wanted the satisfaction of having Venom filling him, in any way possible.

And Venom wanted to sate him.

Still, that wasn’t the full game. Eddie gave a particularly hard, desperate suck and Venom decided it was time to ease both their cravings, just a little bit. Venom let a little piece of the tendril in Eddie’s mouth separate from the rest (though the separation was of course an illusion), and with a smooth, wriggling slide, it let itself make its way down Eddie’s throat, let itself be swallowed, consumed, and yet not remotely destroyed. It was consumed to become joined with Eddie once more. It let its consciousness drift to the small piece of itself, luxuriating in the feeling of Eddie’s throat muscles working around it, shaping it. Eddie was so solid, such a contrast to Venom, and it loved that, loved it loved it loved it. It loved that it was malleable enough to be shaped by Eddie. The piece of itself that Eddie had swallowed didn’t settle in his stomach—the stimulus of the acid was an unwelcome distraction, even if it wasn’t dangerous. Instead, it slipped into Eddie’s bloodstream and joined with the rest of itself, changing a few molecules here and there to ease just a little bit of Eddie’s hunger.

The relief was both shocking and merely a taunt in the face of Eddie’s great craving. He whimpered, a sound that tickled, backed by a host of intoxicating chemicals and surrounded by all those murky thoughts of desire in Eddie that tinged this pleasure with shame and somehow made him feel even more pleasure.

[heckcareoxytwit]

A preview of Venom #33

VENOM #33

As the earth is smothered in eternal night, VENOM unleashes their lethal justice on the hordes of bloodsucking vampires threatening the innocents of New York City. But there’s one vampiric foe that thirsts not for blood — but for SYMBIOTES! Vampires aren’t the only threat — the dead now rise! LEE PRICE, one-time host to the Venom symbiote, has been ripped from his grave. And he’s got a bone… or a brain to pick… with his old partner!

LEGACY #233 Venom #33

Written by: Al Ewing Art by: Juan Ferreyra Cover by: CAFU Page Count: 28 Pages Release Date: May 8, 2024

[vampirepunks]

Can I get some headcanons for Eddie and Venom pls? 🥺👉👈

Oh hell yes, I adore those two idiots (affectionate) so much!

Sexuality Headcanon: I definitely see Eddie as bi and Venom as demisexual/panromantic. Given that symbiotes reproduce asexually, sex must be a rather alien notion for them at first, initially conceptualizing it as a form of hunger. I imagine the emotional and mental connection involved is priority #1, especially with their host. I really love fics where it's a matter of intimacy for them, becoming another form of communication and affection after a period of struggling to quite grasp the concept. (I'm not at all biased by being demi myself, cough cough) Love it even more when they start off confused about the stigmas and boundaries around the topic, made worse by Eddie being shy and bad at explaining. Weird human norms are weird.

Gender Headcanon: Eddie comes off as the most Dude™ ever and I love playing around with that, so I'm flexible with interpretations. With cis Eddie, the sexuality crisis trope for being attracted to Venom is always really fun (bonus points for religious trauma coming into play) and I have a huge soft spot for transmasc Eddie. Venom doesn't understand gender and probably never will. The more they learn, the less sense it makes to them (it me fr). No one will ever know peace once they learn the term "social construct."

A ship I have with said character: Slap these losers together and call it a day, I say! Symbrock ftw.

A BROTP I have with said character: I really love them as buds with The Wolverine. After all, getting their ass kicked by Logan in the comics was kinda the final straw for them to shift into being the Lethal Protector, after he let them go with a pep talk.

A NOTP I have with said character: Anything involving Carnage or other Venom spawn. A lot of that has gone around after LTBC and it's a yuck for me personally. Peter Parker is also a solid no for me, given the domestic abuse allegory with Venom. There's way too much ugly history there for me to enjoy it.

A random headcanon: Eddie has ADHD. His symptoms get worse when Venom is hungry or agitated. Overall, it's impossible to say whether they're a help or a hindrance. Pros: their reliable memory, strong self-preservation instincts, knack for improvisation, and ability to prevent understimulation. It's great having someone that can keep up. Cons: Impulsivity x2, bored symbiote struggles to cope with hours-long hyperfixation time, overstimulation when they keep talking over an already hyperactive thought process. Brain too loud, send help.

General Opinion over said character: These two are so precious to me, will always easily be in my top 5 favorite characters of all time. I'm thirsting and judging at the same time. I make a hobby of lovingly roasting them but will also defend them to my dying breath. Disaster couple, matched set: do not separate, 11/10.

Thanks for the request! 💕

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