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ddejavvu · 1 year

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eddie brock wanting to go out with reader, so she dresses up but venom takes over and compliments her in his own weird ways <3

Your ring nearly snags a thread on the inside left cup of your dress, and you carefully retract it before it can tear the garment. There's a lace edge beneath your bra that's itching something fierce, and you can't wait to take the dress off tonight.

Or, of course, have it taken off of you.

"Eddie?" You call through the apartment, now peering down at your necklace as you try laying it against your chest in a particular way, "Ready to go, babe?"

"Yeah," He calls from the kitchen, the soles of his dress shoes clicking against the wood floor as he comes to find you, "I was thinking we could- woah."

His abrupt stop makes you glance up, and he's got his eyes glued to your dress. It's a new one, a rich brown hue that drapes down your frame like you're a modern-day Jessica Rabbit.

I take it you like the dress," You laugh, watching Eddie's cheeks go pink. He needs a moment to recover, and you're patient enough to give it to him, but venom isn't.

With a series of ungodly squelches the symbiote envelops your boyfriend, sharp, jagged teeth already set in a grin that barely holds back his massive tongue. His eyes are narrowed and it makes his grin that much more predatory, a look that sends a shiver down your spine.

"I do not know why Eddie will not talk." Venom leans in, hulking figure crowding your own smaller one, "But I want to. You look delicious. You look like chocolate."

"Yeah?" You grin at Venom, fingers fiddling with the silky fabric of your dress, "Thanks, Venom."

"Do you know what I do to chocolate?" Venom leans in farther still, until you can feel his breath fan over your face. He's intoxicatingly large, and your vision is entirely taken up by him.

"I do," You laugh, reaching up to cup his cheek, "I've found enough massacred remains of hershey bars around this place to know you're not gentle with them."

"I would like to do that to you." Venom's tongue comes out to lick over his teeth, a slimy, dripping, circular path, "But for your comfort I think that we should do it on your bed."

"Not right now," You lament, leaning your forehead against his and kissing the space where his nose should be, "We have to eat first. But maybe you can arm wrestle Eddie for me later, big guy."

"I would win an arm wrestle." Venom boasts, thinking literally instead of picking up on the broader meaning of your words, "Eddie is a weak loser."

"A weak loser who's paying for my dinner tonight," You pinch at Venom's arm, though you're sure it doesn't hurt him, "Lemme see him again, V. We can't be late to this place or we'll lose our table."

Venom is very polite with you. He follows orders seamlessly, shrinking back into Eddie until the man's tanned skin breaks through the black goop that had been swarming it. He's on you in an instant, hands against your hips and nose knocking into yours, "You think I'm a weak loser?"

"No!' You laugh, kissing the smile he's trying to tamp down in the name of dramatics, and wriggling from his grip to grab your helmet off of the counter, "I just think Venom could beat you in an arm wrestle."

"It's true," Eddie calls after you, jogging to catch up as you head for the door, "But it's not nice!"

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willtheweaver · 6 months

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More reasons why the characters cannot fix everything with magic

• Children all have access to magic, but as they get older, their powers fade away.

• Mastering even the most basic spell takes years of training.

• “We killed the gods. Turns out that doing that destroyed magic.”

• The amount and strength of magic is inversely proportional to the level of industrialization.

• Characters don’t know what kind of magic they have and must embark on a long and arduous journey in order to find out what they can do.

• “We can use magic, but only on the microscopic scale.”

• The reason why magic doesn’t work is that no one believes in it anymore.

• To cast a spell, one must play the correct tune on a specific instrument.

• Only maker of staffs, rods, and wands has a 10,000 year long waiting list.

• Magic comes from the stars…and it can go no faster than the speed of light.

• The power of magic waxes and wanes. Right now is the part of the cycle where magic is at its weakest.

• People once had a symbiotic relationship with organisms that gave them the power of magic. The organism has been extinct for centuries.

• As the use of magic has a destabilizing effect on the universe, a secret society exists with the sole purpose of killing all magic users before they destroy the universe (some of whom have deliberately attempted to cause an apocalypse).

• “You must sacrifice a part of you in order to use magic. It could be a part of your body, it could also be your identity, or even your very soul.”

#writing #creative writing #writing resources #writing inspiration #writing prompts #writing reference #magic system #writer #writers #writing community #writer on tumblr #writeblr

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emryses · 2 months

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been thinking a lot of charles' immediate, "great. love you too" to edwin in ep 7. he really did not skip a beat. is 'i love you' something that they have said to each other before? because with what we see of the two of them struggling to really talk about their feelings throughout the season, i am hesitant to think that the words have actually been spoken out loud. but of course they love each other! edwin literally never misses an opportunity to praise charles when he does something he thinks is brilliant. charles is literally always there to hand edwin the exact thing he needs, and to take it off his hands when he's done with it. their relationship is all very symbiotic, two organisms rubbing their cell walls together or something. i wonder if loving each other became a sort of Unspoken But Known thing. charles died and left behind his life to be with edwin. edwin escaped Hell and had to start all over again, and he got to do that with charles. they built their afterlives together in a way where they will forever orbit around one another, solely because of their own desire and wish to. so i wonder, even though edwin may have never said the words "i love you" to charles, that when he heard them his first thought was: duh. of course you love me. i love you, too. i came to hell for you. of course i love you.

#dead boy detectives #payneland #dead boy thoughts

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

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Title: Unwanted Cravings.

Pairing: Yandere!Miguel O'hara x Reader (Spider-Verse).

Word Count: 1.3k.

TW: Unhealthy Relationships, Venom!Reader, Obsessive Behavior, No Actual Sexual Content But Unlimited Access to Miguel's Horny Thoughts, No Seriously This Man Just Wants To Be Topped But He Has To Be So Weird About It, and Slight Violence.

Miguel couldn’t remember the last time he’d been restrained.

Beaten, broken, pinned under falling rumble or sedated or exposed to a paralytic gas, but not restrained. When he was first coming into his abilities, maybe – he could picture himself waking up in some damp, depressing holding cell, but he’d never been handcuffed. If the cops managed to get their hands on him, he wasn’t in a state to resist, and his villains were rarely the ‘catch and release’ types. Or, most of his villains, at least.

This would be so much easier, if all you wanted to do was kill him.

Without warning, the tendrils of your symbiote binding his arms behind his back wrenched tighter – tearing something in his shoulder and drawing a low, pained grunt out of the base of his throat. He clenched his eyes shut, but opened them again just as quickly, turning his gaze toward you.

You were above him, but not out of reach. Perched on the edge of a well-beaten wooden crate, one leg crossed over the other, everything below your neck covered with the glistening black tar of your symbiote, you were staring down toward where he’d been forced to kneel on the cement floor, too, sizing him up with an expression bordering between total disinterest and utter boredom. The repulsion in your eyes alone was enough to spark something in his chest, to make him wonder if you’d look at him with the same indifference if he got his hands free and forced your legs apart, if he buried his face between your thighs and gave up air in exchange for something much more precious. He could do it, if he needed to. If he used his talons, if he pushed himself, he could do it.

But, he didn’t. He wouldn’t. Because you’d get hurt. Because you’d already proven you weren’t looking for a fight, just something to do.

Because you’d leave if he didn’t play along, and you couldn’t leave.

Not that you were in a rush. With an airy sigh, you leaned forward, letting your head lull to the side as you raised your foot, finding the underside of his chin. With more force than you really had to use, you tilted his head back, taking a moment to evaluate his swollen eye, the jagged cut you’d left along his cheekbone when your symbiote had momentarily mistaken him for its next meal. Eventually, your foot fell away from his chin, the sole of your boot finding a place against the center of his chest. He could feel heat rushing to his face, his breathing grow hoarse and ragged, and could only hope it was too dark for you to notice. “You look good with a little damage.” Cold, viscous condescension dripped from your tone, but Miguel had to fight the urge to preen. “You should drop the mask more often. Reaper might stop trying to take a bite out of you if she knew how pretty you could be, when you put the effort in.”

Pretty. A pang of something pure and electric shot from the base of his throat to the pit of his stomach. His breath hitched, and as if in response, your symbiote nipped at the corner of his jaw with just enough force to break the skin. He didn’t try to speak, too aware of how audibly his voice would wavevr - only glaring in your direction, doing what little he could to square his shoulders, to look like a hero. You just laughed, the noise flat and humorless. It made him want to carve your throat out. It made him want to kiss you until his lips bled.

“It’s not fun if you’re just going to make faces at me.” You clicked your tongue, rolled your eyes. “Who was that guy you were with the other day, the one who I threw through a billboard? He was cute – do you think he’d want to play with us, sometime?”

Miguel bared his teeth. Your symbiote purred with delight. “Peter’s not worth your time.”

Another laughed. A real laugh. “And you are? Tell me, Spider-Boy, what exactly can you do for me?”

Involuntarily, images flooded his mind by way of an answer. You, straddling his waist, riding him until he was barely conscious beneath you. Your body between his legs, thrashing void clinging to your skin as you split him open with the help of your symbiote, as you wrapped your clawed hands around your neck and squeezed. A tongue longer than his forearm forcing its way down his throat, the feeling of your body pressed against his, the wild grin you wore as you tried to tear him apart plastered across your lips as you—

The grin you were wearing now, he noticed, when he finally snapped himself out of his fantasies. Not as unrestrained, not extenuated by a thousand rows of pointed teeth, but just was sharp, just as piercing. Complimented by the glint in your eye you only ever got when you saw something you wanted to bite into. “You’re blushing.”

He bowed his head, cursing under his breath. “Let me go—”

“Don’t give me that.” A pair of think tendrils sprouted from his restraints, wrapping around his thighs and forcing his legs apart. Your foot fell farther, landing on his crotch and applying enough pressure to force a sharp hiss through his grit teeth. “Good guys aren’t supposed to lie.” You ground your heel into the base of his shaft and he doubled into himself, a violent moan tearing past his lips. “Be honest, this time – do you get this hard for every rouge you fight, or am I special?”

You were special. Of course, you were special. If you weren’t, his skin wouldn’t itch when anyone else so much as looked at him. If you weren’t, he wouldn’t melt so easily under your attention – hostile or affectionate. If you weren’t, he wouldn’t have to fight so hard not to grind into your heel, not to imagine your symbiote slipping underneath his suit, splaying him out, binding him in place and rendering him immobile, helpless, yours. He tried not to imagine the feeling of your hand against his chest, his waist. He tried not to imagine what you’d do to him, when you had him at your mercy.

It slipped out before he could swallow it back, before his better judgement could overshadow his primal need to feel your skin against his. “Please.” And again, as your lips quirked upward, as you rolled the sole of your boot against his crotch, “Please.”

“Please what, Spider-Boy? Ask for what you want.”

“I— I want you to—” To kiss his neck. To draw blood. To eat him alive. “I need you to touch me.”

There was a beat of silence. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, erratic and nearly overwhelming, nearly deafening.

Finally, you snapped your fingers, calling your symbiote back to you. Miguel fell onto his back, panting as you pushed yourself to your feet. As your mask crept up your neck, you spared him one more glance. For a second, he could’ve sworn you were going to turn on him, sink your claws into his neck, tear his beating heart out of his rib-cage. For a second, he could’ve sworn you were going to stay with him.

Then, your lips quirked upward into a lopsided smirk. You reached down, a bone-white claw emerging from your monstrous hand. Slowly, deliberately, you dragged the sharpened point down the length of his chest, splitting open the holographic fabric of his suit and drawing a thin, red line from his collarbone to the tender flesh of his upper pubic area. You watched with a glint in your eye as he stiffened, as his shoulders shook and a bright, searing heat seeped into his veins and dripped down his thighs. Once the aftershocks had faded, you let out a bark of a laugh, recalling your talon and standing to your full height.

“Fucking pervert.”

Without another word, without another sound, you disappeared into the night, leaving Miguel alone, frustrated, and already desperate to see you again.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse spoilers #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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cillivnz · 7 months

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THE OTHER WOMAN [anakin skywalker]

pairing. ANAKIN SKYWALKER x JEDI!READER

trope. unrequited love, ‘the other woman’.

word count. 1.6k

warnings. 18+. f!reader, cursing, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, heavy angst, rough sex, no aftercare, degradation, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, size kink, tummy bulge, creampies, crying, unrequited pining, clit-play, sadism & masochism, emotionally vulnerable reader and unavailable anakin.

a/n. personal experiences inspired this. could possibly be the prologue to a series, depends on reception. single quotes ‘’ indicate telepathic communication. descriptions are not intended to offend, just to depict a state of vulnerability.

“HIT ME!” MOANED THE MASOCHIST, “NO,” SNEERED THE SADIST.

Love’s a silly little thing that’s made Saints do questionable things, so how were you expected to be any different as a Jedi with tainted ethics? Except, the sole purpose of being one— a Jedi, is to be damn near a Saint. Well, you’re near one, now.

With your face buried in his sheets, and his cock buried inside you.

“Ani— fuck,” you sighed in fulfilment.

this was home, homely; beneath him every night after a long day of you awaiting the sight of him in the Temple, and for him, distracting himself by killing all evil and bottling up all thoughts of his lost love.

“How many fucking times have I told you not to call me that?” You flinched at the smack landing on your ass cheek. The hopes of him rubbing the supple flesh to soothe the pain went in vain.

The sole reason for the success of your “relationship” or even why Anakin agreed to your pathetic advances in the first place was because you were symbiotic, yin and yang of a very wicked balance.

HE LIKED INFLICTING PAIN, YOU LIKED BEING INFLICTED UPON.

When Padmé Amidala left the Coruscant for Naboo, abandoning her Ani with a broken heart, you volunteered to pick the pieces.

“ANAKIN, TALK TO ME,” you urged, clutching onto his onyx Jedi robes. His jaw clenched, an eyebrow irking at your audacious hand placement.

“Leave me alone,” he pushed himself away from you, but you were adamant as ever.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Your gut churned out a warning, intituition telling you you’re digging a hole that’s bound to be deeper than the bond you’ve formed with Anakin Skywalker over the decade of knowing him— from Slave to Saviour of the galaxies.

His head whipped towards you, his broad back tensing as he turned threateningly slowly towards you.

“I can,” you were unsure of what you were going to propose— hell, you were unsure of what you were even going to say.

‘I can make you forget her.’

He sneered, you squirmed.

“I’d love to see you try, sweetheart.”

First pet name Anakin Skywalker learned to use, coincidentally, too, for you. He had heard a sleazy man on Tattooine say it to his mother. For the longest time, he had thought of it to be vulgarity, until little Skywalker used it for you in front of Obi-wan and was quick to learn that it expresses endearment, not disdain.

After ten years he calls you ‘sweetheart’, and you knew better than to blush over it, but you were flushed, anyway.

You strip yourself bare; physically and egotistically. You lay yourself bare for your first love to unravel, even if there wasn’t much to remove physically; you were laying your soul bare to him, for him.

Mere virgin, inexperienced and shielded. Jaded just from communicating with two-timers, but so, so willing to bend over backwards and break your back for Anakin Skywalker’s mercurial self and pretty face.

While he sees your naked flesh on display for him, you see the first emotion on Anakin’s face that was not indignation towards you. Desire. He desired you, but the speed at which he masked his emotions proved to you that it wasn’t half of what he felt for her.

“You have no idea what you’re setting yourself up for.” He grabbed your chin with his metallic arm, one you’ve admired for the valour that gave it to him and one you’ve shamelessly fantasised about.

One snap was all it would’ve taken for him to break you in half with that faux robotic limb, but Anakin wouldn’t do that. Not just yet.

“What makes you think you can compare to her?”

“She is the kindest, strongest, most generous and most beautiful woman in the galaxy. What makes you think you can compare?”

What really makes you think you can compare?

You’ve been selfish, cursing the entirety of their relationship, which was as one-sided as your love for him.

You’ve been impatient, reckless and impulsive, and it’s evident in your performance as a Jedi.

You can’t even fulfil your sole purpose because, by Maker, he’s clouded your mind with himself and left little room for rationality.

‘I can try,’ you think, and of course he’d read it. ‘To fill the void.’

‘Let me in, please.’

‘Please let me try.’

“Bend over, ass up, face down.”

That’s how you two started, and how you persist.

He insists on fucking you in the same position, same force and speed of his thrusts, every night.

You know better than to ask for more. Maker’s giving you more than you deserve, isn’t it? Gratitude has been a virtue of yours, so you stick to it.

Even if there are days when he doesn’t show up to your room, knock curtly thrice before barging in to find you stripped and on your knees for him, you still love him.

He’s forgiven, he’ll always be.

You take those days to forget him, to jump down the Tower instead of climbing further up the spiralling stairs of a love doomed before it blossomed.

Anakin Skywalker only brings despair with him, a fact even the Order knows now.

“An-ah!—Anakin, slow down!” You squealed, his thrusts never faltering.

He was taking out his frustration for the Maces of the Order onto you.

“Shut up and take it,” he grunted, going faster.

You were crying, a mere mess in his bed.

The tip of his cock was assaulting your g-spot, and it felt like a punch to the gut.

You felt him there, too, snaking a hand down to your tummy to feel the bulge of him going in and out of your tight channel.

He rubbed your clit vigorously; the swollen bundle of nerves had been begging for his attention, which, his balls slapping against it was sufficing, but the extra heed paid had you writhing in overstimulation.

You were sobbing, softly, but loud enough for him to hear over the sound of skin-on-skin slapping and his own haggard breath.

He pulled out, making you clench around just his tip. It was like your body was trying to keep him in.

“Can’t have me stay and can’t have me go,” he said under his breath. He spread your cunt with his hands, watching your abused hole leak your juices.

He eyed you for several moments, making you self-conscious as jolt away from him. He only spreads you further apart to spit into your hole.

Your body jerked away from him, but his metallic fingers were faster in being shoved inside of you.

The cold metal felt like ice to your hot insides, the juxtaposition of a sensation sending a shiver down your arched spine.

“Oh, you like this?” His human hand cupped your mound. “Is cock too much for your little pussy to handle?” He mocked, but you sensed a tinge of amusement underlying his tone.

“You have one purpose, and you fail to meet it.” He pulled out his fingers, causing your head to snap back to look at him.

You see him seated on the bed, leisurely stroking his cock as if he has all the time in the world, no necessity for release while you ached to come undone.

‘I’ve given you more than she has.’

Anakin’s cock may be the biggest in this galaxy, but your pride’s bigger in every other.

His jaw clenched, but his cock twitched.

With one swift leap, he was on top of you— the predator atop his prey— pounced and ready to penetrate— eat you alive.

“Not a word out of you, y’hear?”

“Not. One. Word.”

He aligned the tip of his member with your tight entrance and forced his way in, fucking you dumb with merciless thrusts, just the way you wanted.

You were drooling, panting, screaming, moaning, crying, all while Anakin drove his hips into yours wordlessly.

The silence was eerie and scary, not even a grunt was sounded, and how you yearned to hear his groans of pleasure, knowing they were for you.

He then moaned, once again reading your mind with that impeccable bond of Force that Maker’s aligned your souls with, but your heart nearly dropped to your cunt when he said,

“Padmé, fuck.”

You clenched out of instinct, spinal cord taking over all senses while your brain was too weak, too fucked to react.

A normal person with self-respect would ask him to get the fuck out and never, ever come see you again, but you had ego, not the former, and the difference between the two is what’s allowing you to let him finish and go, like every other night, like a part of you would normalise this foreplay as long as you feel his touch— feel wanted by him.

When his seed tainted your walls once more, you sighed in relief. You couldn’t bear to look at him with tearful eyes.

You hear him shuffle into his robes, then silence, yet his presence was still felt.

You hear the doorknob twist, so you turn around to lie on your back, not expecting a lurking Anakin lingering by the doorframe. You peer at him through wet lashes, doe-eyes reduced to slits while you reciprocated the venom exuding out of Anakin for the first time towards him, clenching your jaw. Your chest huffed with forced respiration, drawing Anakin’s attention to your breasts.

It was then he used the force not to hear the string of curses flowing through your mind for him, but to talk to you, for the first time.

And for the first time he ever said,

‘If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t come to you.’

“Like” isn’t “love”,

But it is something—

‘—But you mean nothing to me, so your love is useless.’

‘And I won’t always be around as the other woman,’ you were going to go berserk.

But which one of you was lying, sneering sadist or moaning masochist?

main masterlist. more of Anakin. blog directory.

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sisterfrnkly · 11 months

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every post-costa venom writer who chose to refer to sleeper as specifically/distinctly/solely the symbiote's spawn after these panels is a coward

[Image description: 5 screencaps from Venom Vol. 4: The Nativity show: first, Venom (that is, Eddie plus the Venom symbiote surrounding his head), looking through the glass containing their child. Their speech bubble, directed to their child, reads: "HELLO, DARLING." Out of the panel, a speech bubble from Liz Allan reads, "SERIOUSLY, BROCK?" ; second, Venom saying: "I LIKE TO STAY IN TOUCH WITH MY OTHER AS IT NURTURES THE OFFSPRING. TO... FEEL IT. AND SEE IT THROUGH OUR EYES INSTEAD OF JUST EDDIE'S." ; third, a headshot of Eddie, now with no visible sign of the symbiote, snarling and saying, "HUMAN TRIALS? WHO ARE YOU...WAIT, ARE YOU USING THIS ON YOURSELF? ARE YOU...GETTING HIGH OFF MY BABY'S SWEAT?" ; fourth, Eddie, from the thighs up, slamming his hand down Liz's desk and pointing at Liz/the viewer, saying, "YOUR JOB IS TO KEEP OUR BABY SAFE. AND WHILE YOU DO THAT, YOU CAN STUDY IT, FOR BOTH OF US. NOT EXPLOIT IT FOR YOURSELF. I KNEW YOU HAD TEETH, LIZ. I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE A VAMPIRE." ; fifth, Eddie, storming out of Liz's office, past Dr. Steve, saying, "IF I FIND OUT YOU'RE DOING ANYTHING OTHER THAN WATCHING OUR BABY, TAKING MEASUREMENTS AND SINGING IT LULLABIES..." End image description.]

#spoilers #spoiler #venom 2016 spoilers #venom 2016 #venom #eddie brock #venom symbiote #symbrock #sleeper symbiote #venom spoilers #veddie

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herpsandbirds · 1 month

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Howdy! I recently learned about ambrosia beetles and their specialized structures (mycangia) that hold and transport symbiotic fungi that helps break down wood! What a cool relationship, even if it does wreak havoc on trees across the world. Would you happen to have any pictures of ambrosia beetles/Scolytinae? They tend to be very cute and bullet-shaped and I would love to see more of them!

Ambrosia Beetles:

Granulate Ambrosia Beetle (Xylosandrus crassiusculus), family Curculionidae, SC, USA

photograph by Christina Butler

Gallery, pupae, and an adult beetle of Xylosandrus crassiusculus, one of the most common ambrosia beetle in tropical and subtropical areas worldwide.

image by Hulcr

photo credit: Mary Keim on usda.gov

Ambrosia beetles nurture their gardens of fungus with alcohol

Ethanol in dying trees helps ambrosia fungi flourish

Ambrosia beetles survive by boring into trees and growing fungi inside. They prefer stressed or dying trees, which have more ethanol—an alcohol that's produced naturally by the plant—flowing through their tissues. To find out why, researchers took a closer to look at the black stem borer (pictured), an ambrosia beetle native to Asia that has become a tree-boring pest in North America...

Read more: Ambrosia beetles nurture their gardens of fungus with alcohol | Science | AAAS

FIND OUT MORE:

Ambrosia beetle - Wikipedia

The beetles excavate tunnels in dead or stressed trees into which they introduce fungal gardens, their sole source of nutrition. After landing on a suitable tree, an ambrosia beetle excavates a tunnel in which it releases its fungal symbiont. The fungus penetrates the plant's xylem tissue, extracts nutrients from it, and concentrates the nutrients on and near the surface of the beetle gallery. Ambrosia fungi are typically poor wood degraders, and instead utilize less demanding nutrients. Symbiotic fungi produce and detoxify ethanol, which is an attractant for ambrosia beetles and likely prevents growth of antagonistic pathogens and selects for other beneficial symbionts...

#weevil #ambrosia beetle #beetle #coleoptera #curculionidae #animals #nature

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jimmy-j-james · 1 year

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Any chance you could make a part two of Venom!Reader x Price, or a similar idea with Soap/Ghost? I think it's such a cool prompt

VENOM AU W/ SOAP AND GHOST

- Ghost x M!symbiote!reader & Soap x M!symbiote!reader

- Proofread:

- Genre: ???

- Synopsis: Drabbles on what it’d be like if Soap and Ghost had you as their symbiote, or more specifically their first impressions.

A/N: If anyone is wanting either drabbles for other characters, or full stories like Price’s, do request!

⚠️ Simon’s part is a bit graphic and more aggressive in nature⚠️

════════════════

SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY

Simon had found you while on a lone mission. The task at hand was simple. Walk in, grab the valuables (this case being the illegal scientific subjects), and get out.

Of course, the Brit wasn’t as lucky as the one tank for grabs was broken, the symbiote no where in sight.

The sight was a panic alone, but what further presented as eerie was the obscene sounds of wet flesh from above.

As Simon raised his gaze, he was shocked to find a black inky blob drop down onto his face. Pained noises escaping the man as the unlabelled thing forced its way into his maw before disappearing into his body.

Panting and shaking, Simon calls in the incident, called back for evac and an immediate check up with the base’s doctors.

The checkup had gone awful. He was sweating, hungry, and aggressive. Feral, that’s how the doctors described him.

They sent him in for an MRI, which had only caused more harm. In a strange fit of rage, Simon had even destroyed the machine. God knows how he had the strength to do such harm..

The strange behaviours only continued though. From general hunger to thoughts of cannibalism.. he’d express his concerns to Price again, earning himself a necessary time in solitary.

Pounding at the walls, screaming things he’d swear was out of his control. He felt insane and drained.

Lying back against a cold stone wall, that’s when Simon met the parasite. He had thought it was trick of the eye, but no.

A slick and slimy tendril traced out from beneath his sleeve, snaking down onto the floor as grasping hold of a small mouse that had been idly picking through rubble.

Simon watched out in horror as the creature strangled the small creature. Inside he thought back to the men he had killed in similar ways, but something about the way this small mouse was slowly being killed.. it scared him.

The tendril slowly retrieved the dead mouse, dragging it up to the head it had poked out from Simon’s shoulder.

The crunch alone scared traumatized the Brit, shooting up in a panic as he banged on the door desperately. Shouting out about the alien.. something passers would ignore on claims of him being insane.

“You are scared?” A low, raspy, and grotesque voice calls out from behind Simon, another small tendril slipping up his neck, beneath his mask. “They will not help you like I can. You want love, I can be that.”

The tendril is cold to the touch, dragging goosebumps along the man’s skin. A stuttered exhale leaving Simon’s scarred lips. He can’t help the way the touches relax him, an unexplainable phenomenon.

“You like this?” The creature purrs, almost tauntingly. “You humans are such needy beings.”

To you, Simon was a needy man. He practically lived off your touch and praise. Completely and solely dependent on you.

It was such a contrast to his past shell of being. The old Ghost, the one that would berate him for being so clingy to this alien.. but to him, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was you.

He fed you his victims, devoted his life to you. Saw upon you as a god rather than a parasite. A blessing even.

No one knew if it was a good or bad change for the bloke, but one thing was certain. Don’t bother trying to remove you from his body. If you were to be removed, either you’d let the man die, or he’d let himself die. Both of you needed each other, and no one could take that from you.

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JOHN ‘SOAP’ MACTAVISH

John had found you after running loose within a crash site. He had happened to pass by the crash of your ship, to which you had taken it upon yourself to use him as a host, without his knowledge of course.

He hadn’t noticed until days had passed. He was constantly craving weird things.. chocolate at first but then live animals. Next was the ungodly fevers he faced. Constantly sweating, and not your average amount either. Drenched head to toe in the stench. It was so bad to the point he was forced on medical leave, forced into bed rest while studied by the many doctors on base.

All was fine until they had him in a MRI. He freaked, or more so, whatever possessed him did. It was painful and traumatic. Seeing the sickly black mess slide across the floor. The doors were immediately locked, trapping him inside with it. Better him than the whole base, huh?

It’s what caused the alien creature to reattach to his body, to the life source it needed. It was what provoked the first verbal contact with said being.

“They want to hurt us.” It echoed throughout the Scot’s thoughts. Causing the man to stammer and desperately disagree.

“M-me? No, no, no! They’re after you!” He argued in turn, accent heavy in the moments of his panic. “Steamin’ jesus- get out of my body! Out of my head!”

To anyone else, the man looked absolutely insane. Fisting into his Mohawk, screaming on into an empty room. He remained like that, all until the other being spoke again. An grotesque tendril slipping out from his wrist, wrapping around one of his fingers.

“They don’t understand you like I do, John.”

The knowledge of his name alone had Johnny choking up. He was scared beyond belief. This had to be some cruel joke, maybe even the side effects of a bad concussion? But no. This was real. The thing was real. And he was stuck with it.

You thought of Johnny as the perfect specimen. Destructive and dependent of social praise. But those things didn’t matter anymore, he had you!

You kept him alive and well, refusing to detach from the Scot without harm caused. You truly were a parasite to him.

It had taken him awhile, but he had eventually learned to accept and care for you. Truly the perfect specimen.

════════════════

#cod x male reader #ghost x male reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x male reader #soap x male reader #soap mw2 #john mactavish x male reader #JimmyJ’s venom AU works

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gallifreyanhotfive · 8 months

Text

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 8

The Gallifreyan village of Slothe was populated by people who relied solely on hunting and gathering, leading to the near-extinction of several species including the ulanda, trunkike, yaddlefish, and broakir. A Krafayis sent to the village by Death as punishment.

There is a TARDIS cradle at the Academy for students who already have symbiotic bonds but have not graduated.

The Doctor's Aunt Flavia named her cat "the Doctor."

As a child, the First Doctor played in the tunnels underneath the Panopticon. Also underneath the Panopticon is the Eye of Harmony.

The Twelfth Doctor calls the Tenth Doctor "Bambi" and refers to Rose as "Blondie."

On prehistoric Gallifrey, the aspects of the Time Sentinels would toss time sensitives into the Untempered Schism.

Barbara kept a diary that she intended to leave for Susan for when she began to live in the 22nd century.

The Eighth Doctor claimed he could think of fourteen different instances of wars being started over someone refusing a cup of tea.

The Dancing Plague was caused by mass hysteria. The lack of an evil presence causing the plague caused the Fifth Doctor some severe confusion.

Cameca gifted the First Doctor a brooch while he was leaving, which he eventually regifted to Susan in his Eighth incarnation.

The Fourth Doctor took Sarah Jane back to kill the would-be dictator as a baby, but upon seeing his Sixth self fail to do so, he realized there was another way. Thus, when his Eighth self went to go kill the baby, the Fourth told the mother, foiling all of the Eighth's plans. The mother realized her love for the baby and raised them better. And thus wraps up the the-Doctor-tries-to-kill-a-baby arc.

Following the TV Movie, the Eighth Doctor promptly loses all of his memory again and gets arrested for possession of cocaine.

Knowing that the Doctor took on the name Merlin, it is interesting to note that in King Arthur's court there was a woman named Ganeida, who was Merlin's half-sister and the daughter of a nun and a "demon."

Hecuba is the Queen of Time and the Toymaker's sister. Her games often relate to clocks and time, and if someone refuses to play, she turns them into clocks.

Satthralope was the Housekeeper of Lungbarrow (basically a medium between the family and the sentient House). She thought the Doctor was a "disappointment to the House" and a "wretched child." In fact, one of the Doctor's first memories is of Satthralope smacking him so hard that he could hardly walk afterwards. If the Doctor refused to come to dinner, she let the drudges attack him.

Some Time Lords have a tapetum lucidum, including the Corsair.

Yarvell, Davros's half-sister, was a peace activist. Calcula, their mother, drowned her, and Davros used her body for experiments.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

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blimbo-buddy · 4 months

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Making the most batshit theory ever based off of what we got from MoonPaw's website card

She's going to be mauled to death (or near death) by an animal - most likely dogs but I wouldn't mind if it was a fox or badger or even another cat

Maybe an assassination attempt

Some unknown cat comes across her body and tosses her into the Moonpool

She's brought back to life but now suddenly she hears a voice coming from the Moonpool

Her memory is partially gone, barely remembering anything besides vague memories of her home and parents

Turns out that a personification of the Moonpool became a part of her very being and is the sole reason she's alive, it can talk to her now but also she figures out that this causes her to hear the voices of other dead cats too

The two have a symbiotic relationship, they help each other survive as best as possible

MoonPaw isn't able to come back to Thunderclan or the Clans for whatever reason

I'm sure this is all disproved in the newest article about Changing Skies but I'm not reading it you can't fucking make me

#blimbo rambles #wc #changing skies spoilers #as if this is rooted in canon lmao #but why is her card torn up.

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ddejavvu · 11 months

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eddie brock is the og loser boyfriend and i can’t stop thinking about venom just like completely bullying him when he’s in a relationship like his partner is like this drop dead gorgeous person and eddie wears the same sweaty jacket all the time and eats frozen tater tots haha

"There are crumbs on your shirt." Venom observes, and when Eddie nods with a noncommittal grunt, he continues, "And it is not a shirt. It is a sweatshirt. A sweaty sweatshirt, Eddie. And you wore it yesterday."

"That I did," Eddie crams another handful of chips into his mouth, salted and straight from the bag. His attention remains solely on the television in front of him, and Venom's goopy form shakes its head.

"Y/N is coming over later." He reminds the human, watching with disdain as Eddie chokes slightly on his mouthful because of the way he's slouched in his seat. He swallows regardless, and when he speaks, his voice is gruff from the irritation in his throat.

"Yeah, she'll be here in a few minutes," Eddie nods, "Hey, do you think they fake this show? The drama, and all."

Venom has no interest in whether the trashy reality show that Eddie is so enraptured by is fake or not. He cares that you'll be here any minute now, and Eddie looks like a corpse that's been rotting for a few days.

When the doorbell rings, Eddie moves to get up. Crumbs begin raining onto the carpet and he groans as his lazy joints ache, so Venom shoves him back into place with a strong tentacle and uses another to stretch and open the door for you.

You're clearly expecting a person on the other side, but you're quick to recognize the tentacle you're met with instead. It wraps greedily around your waist and you place your hand over its sticky form, grinning as you're barely able to shut the door behind you before Venom yanks you over to the couch.

"Hi, baby," Eddie greets, tipping his head onto the back of the sofa to grin upside-down at you, "How are you?"

"Good," You lean down to kiss him upside down, and Venom is appalled that you're willing to put your lips on Eddie's crumb-coated ones.

"Sour cream and onion?" You guess, and you're rewarded with the near-empty bag of them that Eddie had been demolishing.

You settle happily onto the couch by Eddie's side with the chips in your hand, and when Venom begins to let go of you you hold his tentacle in place. The symbiote watches you silently for a moment, observing your behavior and thinking a whole host of unsavory thoughts about humans and their disgusting tendencies.

"I do not understand," Venom interrupts your gushy sentiments with Eddie about how terrible the acting is on so-called 'reality' shows, "Eddie is disgusting."

The man's nose wrinkles and you let out a scoff of a laugh.

"Thank you, Venom. That's very kind of you. Did you forget you're made of slime?"

"Slime does not sweat. And I do not have crumbs stuck all over me."

"Venom, being in a relationship with someone means that you need to be comfortable with them. We don't have to dress up all the time, Y/N knows what I look like in pajamas and I've seen her hair unbrushed in the morning."

Venom, too, recalls the rather impressive tangled mess of hair that you sport after a night of deep sleep.

"You do not mind that he smells?" Venom turns to you, his milky-white eyes blinking with a squelch.

"He's smelled worse," You give a half-shrug, only one of your shoulders moving as you squirm closer to Eddie beneath the blanket he's draped over you.

"You're both too good to me," Eddie grins, batting his lashes sarcastically, "Careful not to flatter me too much, don't want my head to get too big to fit in my helmet."

Venom regards Eddie for a moment, then thinks of the motorcycle helmet the man breathes into every day. It's repulsive.

"Your head is already abnormally large," Venom observes, settling into Eddie's shoulder opposite from you, "I will keep insulting you so that it does not get bigger. You are repulsive."

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