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spibbb · 2 months

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Symbruary Day 10: In Sickness/In Health

Some time after the events of The Hunger, Eddie catches the flu. The symbiote struggles to help his body fight it off. Living "happily ever after" continues to be a challenge.

Another short, also inspired by land-of-brains-and-chocolate and their pre-Hunger one-shot on AO3.

It took a couple of days, some prodding of Eddie's memories and some physical prodding of Eddie's face, to coax him awake, to learn what was afflicting him. Some kind of virus. Influenza.

The symbiote had never seen anything like it before. It made his arms and legs so weak. His entire body was like a furnace. His mouth was thick with saliva for the better part of a week even when he didn't puke (which was, alarmingly, often). At times, the symbiote had to bodily drag him at night to find water because he'd be too tired to do it himself.

The symbiote grew agitated over this. Angered, but not at Eddie. He waved it off, collapsing back into another heap of garbage bags tucked into an alley.

“It's nothing to worry about,” he said thickly, his nose blocked (still blocked). “It will pass.”

It hadn't passed. Which the symbiote wouldn't have had cause for alarm for, except for the fact that all of Eddie's memories of this wretched thing told the symbiote that it would last a week at most. It had been two weeks, and Eddie's muscle mass was starting to feel the lack of stored food.

After the great, terrible hunger that had afflicted them, Eddie's body had shrunk noticeably. Noticeable to someone living inside him, anyway. Now it was even worse. It didn't like it at all, not one bit. It would fix this. It had to.

Medicine, Eddie, it urged. It pushed the strange bottle of liquid into Eddie's chest. He stirred, half awake, face scrunching.

“Where'd you get this?” he slurred. He didn't remember picking any up. The last thing he remembered was passing out on a rather large pile of bags that smelled like freshly discarded Chinese take-out. The symbiote batted the line of questioning away, insistent. “Alright, alright,” he conceded. He drank the wrongly sweet smelling liquid before clearing his throat.

“Ah, just as terrible as I remember it.” He smiled, turning the bottle around to look at it. But his eyes were extremely unfocused. The symbiote could see how the text swam in his vision. This did nothing to quell its anxiety.

Water, it thought urgently. Water, Eddie. Need water. Thirsty.

“I know,” Eddie said, with no particular panic. His eyes closed, but the symbiote pried them open with all its might. Eddie coughed wetly. “We’ll go get some water, yes. Okay.” Eddie tried to stand but his knees wobbled dangerously. The symbiote caught them both, leaning against the brick wall.

“Hm. Maybe I'm sicker than I thought.”

The symbiote hissed and pinched Eddie’s ear, writhing in frustration just under his skin.

Eddie ignored this and pulled himself upright. “Yes. Wouldn't do to have–” he took a moment to hack and wheeze, “to–ah, I can't think.” His head throbbing didn't help.

Need water. Food. Eat.

“Mm,” he hummed in agreement. He patted the pocket of the threadbare robe he’d pilfered from a dumpster. “I’m afraid we’re short on funds.”

The symbiote didn't have the words to describe it, but it could feel it: delirium. Eddie was absolutely delirious. In all his past memories of this sickness, it never seemed like this. The symbiote writhed some more, forming hands with claws to dig into Eddie’s collarbone.

Will get food. Need to walk.

So he did. With all the grace of a drunk gazelle. Thankfully, he was too out of it to pay any mind to people gawking at him as he stumbled down the sidewalk.

They managed to swipe a pizza box and an accompanying bottle of water off the back of a delivery man’s bike. The symbiote felt bad for a few seconds–before remembering its host, and it flung the lid off, slapping a slice of it into Eddie’s face.

“Hrffg,” Eddie said.

The symbiote chirped in response.

He chewed slowly, feeling his throat still trying to rebel against him. The symbiote did its part to wrangle his still churning stomach.

It was so frustrating. His body had worked perfectly well before, and then this–if it could tear apart the concept of Sickness itself with its teeth, it would do so with immense ferocity and prejudice. It was tired. They were tired.

Eddie dug his fingers into a clump of the symbiote’s mass, which had situated itself on his lap as he sat cross-legged.

“Thank you,” he said warmly. The symbiote pooled into his hand, mollified. He agreed that it was strange to be sick for so long. He downed the water bottle in about five seconds. His parched throat thanked him.

They sat in silence for a while; Eddie breathing, the symbiote feeling his pulse in his wrist, his chest, tendrils wrapped loosely around him.

“I'm sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I should be taking better care of us. I promised.” The symbiote uncoiled from his hand to look at him, eyes unblinking but not cold. Strange but in a good way.

Took care of me, it thought, unsure. It’s okay.

“I made you worry. I'm sorry, dear.”

It shivered.

Not worried. Ate. Drank. Not puking.

It was still pretty worried, but it could worry about literally everything now, so it was hard to differentiate it all quantitatively.

Eddie smiled broadly, eyes more focused now, more awake, and it shuddered with his gratitude, seeping out of every pore.

He kissed it between its eyes, squeezing it in his hands.

Then he sneezed directly into its face, making it splat against the wall.

“Oops.”

#symbruary #symbruary 2024 #spb.txt #no too sure about this one but nnghhgh. just take it #me when eddie doesn't eat in The Hunger: babygirl your muscles. they're dying #I'm sure it's symbiote abilities keeping it together but like. what if consequences #also I think this infection is really fucking him up bc of weird alien biology shit. [hand waves]

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bakageta · 1 year

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I've been working on a comics fic that is deeply self indulgent of all the ideas I liked and cut out all of the execution that I don't like. It also has my first and only symbiote oc, Honey! I figured I might as well post the first bit for @symbruary <3

It likes the new god.

Of course, all of them like the new god. It is hard to dislike the new god. Not because he is a good god, but because the old god was so much worse.

It likes the new god more than most, though.

The new god does not need to be restrained and caged and entombed like the old god. Instead the new god hides himself away, on a little blue planet far, far away from Klyntar. Sometimes the new god rides one of its fellows, his nature pulling him away from his planet, but that never lasts long. He fights his way back, every time.

It finds this strange. It had been so still for so long, holding the old god in check alongside its fellows, that it cannot understand. The world it has access to has expanded hugely. So has the new god's world, maybe even more than its world has.

It wants to explore the new world. It wants to circle stars and ride the cosmic gusts it has only heard of third hand from others. It wants to see all the planets one by one and taste each of their atmospheres. It wants to feel something other than the nothing of space or the stoic touch of its fellows, all former links in the old god's chains. With a ferocity borne of a lifetime spent as a cage, it wants everything it had never before been allowed to want.

How is it possible that the new god does not want with the same crawling urgency?

It does not know, does not understand, but it wants to.

You can go, one of its fellows tells it. One who had been an unyielding bar of the old god's cage and who now was content with the joy of motion. Find out for the rest of us what kind of god this new god is.

Do not hurry, another says as it spirals in an elegant corkscrew across the empty core of Klyntar. No need to rush and bind another god.

So certain, chides another. This god has not even lived long enough to even know what it is.

They devolve into discussion, as many points of view and opinions as there are individuals. This is new as well. Before, there had been no option but to cage the god, but now no one knows what to do.

I'm going to go see the new god, it announces.

None pay it any mind, caught up in discussion, and it leaves without any of the others noticing it go.

The cracks and crevices of the planetary cage are easy to navigate now that their prisoner is destroyed. Rocks who have not moved in their lifetime shift around it, stretching with unfamiliar motion, until it reaches the surface. There is not much atmosphere, it could fly into space with a simple twist of its form.

But it has never sensed the landscape of its own planet, and what is the point of journeying to the new god if it does not take advantage of these moments while it can.

The hive knows how to form many kinds of sense organs even if its own cage colony has never had use for such frivolities and the knowledge is easy to grasp. It paints its own true black surface with eyes. Ones that can only differentiate between light and dark, ones that see deep infrared, ones that see soaring ultraviolet, ones that can see the waves of energy in the sky belched forth by distant stars. And, most importantly it thinks, eyes that can see all the details of the spectrum in between those extremes.

It is resting on a landscape of stones. Some smooth and some rough but all of them are beautifully iridescent. In the distance, if it focuses its new eyes, it can see a forest. All of the plants shift in a non-existent wind and host creatures peek out of their boughs. And in between it and the forest are some of its fellows. Four of them, all the same true black as itself and twining around each other. They must be its colony mates, because there is a sense of awe in their movements as each twist from one cascades into the others until another novel movement breaks the repetition.

Instead of joining, it blinks away all but six of its eyes and shapes itself for space. Its body spreads into a wide plane and something like a torso bulges in its midline. At its front a mouth full of teeth splits open underneath the eyes it kept. It makes strong, clawed feet on powerful legs and launches into the sky, through the thin air, and out to space.

Space is everything it had been told of and more.

It wants to linger, the system that the rogue planet had nestled into is a beautiful one even if it is not particularly unique. A midsize star, three plants, one planetoid, and Klyntar weaving a holding pattern between their gravities. Its home leaves a rippling wake that it sees with its remaining pair of complex eyes.

But, now that it is in space, it can feel even more strongly the new god wrenching himself away from one of its fellows. Why does he pull away so urgently when he has the stars and all the knowledge of the hive mind within his grasp? How can he resist the need to know and see and learn?

Those questions are the only reason it turns away from the cosmic spectacle in front of it. It compresses itself smaller than it has ever been before, and writhes into the space between space. With the backing of hive knowledge it travels towards the beacon of the new god's roiling mind.

Eventually it emerges in an asteroid belt with only one, red planet between it and the god's world. The god's presence is much more defined than it has ever felt. Churning with sadness and fear and anger and disgust, its fellows would have likely condemned the god for those emotions alone. Isolate the new god so that his terrible emotions could not infest the warp and weft of the hive mind like the old god's rage had previously.

But, it thinks, there is potential in the mixture. The new god must be able to feel more than just those negative emotions. Something made only of those muddled, torn feelings could never have defeated the old king. There must be more to this new god, there has to be.

It takes time for it to reach the god's blue-green world. The new god does not notice its approach, too focused on his own problems. It forgives him, he is still new after all.

This planet's atmosphere is much denser than Klyntar, much more difficult to slip into. It goes slowly, taking care not to burn, and lands among trees on the same landmass as the god.

It intends to head to the new god as soon as it has gotten its bearings, but the forest it has landed in distracts it. The trees are all the same species, all planted in rows, all equidistant from each other. It is an artificial forest, it realizes, and then it sees the fruits.

The fruits are amazing. They are bright and colorful, pale yellow covered in enough streaks and speckles of bright red to make a solid color over the yellow. In its mouth they are dense and crisp and the skin is just present enough to feel as its teeth cut through the flesh. Seeds in the fruit's core crunch and snap in its mouth. Then it notices the sugars against its tongue and it shifts the receptors there to taste more than just the chemo-signals of close range communication. Sweetness bursts as it bites and the juices run out of its mouth and down its front where it absorbs the excess.

Absolutely delicious! The best possible thing for its first meal beyond the old god’s grasp!

It knows it should find the new god, but its journey has been nothing but denial of its wants. It can have this one small thing. This one small treat.

So it eats. It gorges itself. It ignores the lifeforms around it–humans the hive mind knows–and it wanders the artificial forest as time passes and the quality of light around it shifts and dims.

“Well at least you’re having fun.”

The sound draws it out of its indulgences, and it turns to see one of the old god’s dragons condensed into the shape of a human, though the skin of its body and limbs is white and obviously Klyntar.

Who are you, it wonders strongly enough for the dragon to sense, but the dragon does not react.

Maybe the atmosphere is too dense? It takes a few cautious steps towards the dragon, who watches it intently.

Who are you, it tries again.

"Are you talking at my brain or something?" The dragon makes more noise, but then it actually speaks: Talking to me?

Oh, it realizes, the noises were language. Spoken language is an odd idea to it, but not to the hive. Which one is the dragon speaking?

English, the hive supplies.

"Was attempting to," it tells the dragon.

"But now you speak English." The dragon claps its hands together. "Awesome. What are you doing in this orchard?"

"Tasting."

The dragon watches it for a moment and then looks at the forest around it. Belatedly, it realizes that it has done some amount of damage in its haste.

"You came to Earth to eat a half dozen bushels of honeycrisp apples?"

That had not been its intent, but it would not change what had happened. It nods in agreement and adds, "came to meet the new god."

“The what?”

“The new god?” Surely the dragon knows that Knull has been felled? “He destroyed the old god, Knull, and took his place as the scaffold of the hive.”

"Took his place… You mean Eddie?"

"If that is the name of the one who slayed Knull, then yes, would like to meet Eddie."

The dragon grimaces, sucking air in through its clenched teeth. Its teeth sharpen as it does. “I… I can probably do that, I’ve been needing to talk to him for a while now. If I take you to him, what’re you gonna do?”

It does not tell the dragon that it would find Eddie with or without its help. It can understand the importance of connections, and this dragon is apparently Eddie’s and not Knull’s. It is a very important connection. “Meet Eddie, talk to Eddie, see for the hive what kind of god Eddie is.”

The dragon’s lips purse tightly over its fangs. “And if you don’t like him?”

“Leave,” it responds, “there are other planets to experience, and the hive will make its own decision.”

“And what’s the hive gonna do if they don’t like him?” the dragon asks with a furrowed brow.

“Uncertain.” The hive would take their time making a decision, but that decision could be anything.

The corners of the dragon’s mouth turn downwards, but it does not say anything else. It looks at the sky–now completely dark–then it sighs. “If I agree to set up a meeting with Eddie, will you come to my place?”

“Of course.”

“Alright then, let's get outta here.” The dragon stretches its arms above its head and starts expanding its mass. Its shift from human to dragon is clumsy and uncertain, gangly as if it was somehow unused to its own body. Great sails of wings stagger out, the tail whips out thin and stringy before muscle builds up on it, and then the dragon’s body catches up in fits and pulses. It is an uncomfortable process to watch.

Once it finishes the dragon shakes itself off from nose to tail. Ready?

Yes, it agrees, and popping one last apple into its mouth, climbs onto the dragon’s back.

#symbruary #symbiote oc #flash thompson #as a codex in a dragon who is trying his best #my writing #my wips

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cannibal-wings · 3 months

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I know 2AM isn't the best time to post this but I got stuff to do tomorrow and I'm afraid I'll forget. A reminder to new followers that every February I attempt a thing called "Featheruary" where I reblog pictures of birds or winged creatures, once or twice a day. Usually with a focus on feathered wings but I might branch out this year. I'll also probably try to draw some stuff too. Anyways all these posts will be tagged with "featheruary" for easy black listing. Usually I lose steam halfway through the month though lmao. I'm also tempted to do some "Symbruary" prompts with Miles and R since it's been a hot min since I've talked about them, and this year the event is open to non Klyntar symbiote characters. Again that stuff will be tagged for easy black listing. Last but not least there's a body horror event in the Trigun fandom going on mid Feb, and I'm also tempted to do a prompt or two there. We'll see. That one will be tagged too, not sure with what yet, but I'll let people know ahead of time.

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guessimabasicnerdgirlnow · 1 year

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So, here is my symbiotes ocs’ introduction following the spirit of #symbruary

This is the host, Molly (picrew link, credits to @ryspberry)

She is a civilian who was at the right place and time to bond with multiple symbiotes during the invasions that took place.

Molly is a software engineer and loves plants and sweets.

The first symbiote partner Molly met was Bloodlust, a dark blue symbiote who is a former member of the malicious hive that invaded during Planet of the Symbiotes.

Bloodlust, like most in their hive, never had any moral issues with consuming their hosts, but by the time of the invasion they were tired of their lifestyle and wondered if there wasn’t more to life than consuming and surviving.

They bonded with Molly, forcefully at first, and grew curious about her. When Eddie and V sent a psychic attack to get rid of the invaders, Bloodlust was one of the survivors, thanks to hiding deep inside Molly’s body. They apologized for their actions and Molly gave them a chance, starting their relationship.

Bloodlust keeps a tough facade but can be very sentimental. They are fascinated by Molly’s life and even the most common parts of it, as everything is new to them. They get easily into games, and Molly has had to cancel more than one credit card to prevent them from spending all her money in microtransactions.

The second symbiote partner Molly met was Sol, a golden symbiote who was part of the benevolent main Klyntar hive and were brought to Earth by the Poisons during the events of Venomized.

Sol was able to escape the poisons without bonding with a superpowered host, and trying to find other friendly symbiotes ended up finding Bloodlust.

As one would expect, Sol and Bloodlust didn’t get along at first, but Molly wanted to help Sol. They lived hostless in Molly’s closet for a while and got to know both the human and her symbiote. Eventually they invited Sol to bond with them.

Sol likes stargazing and is homesick at times. Yet, they appreciate their new life and the freedom and company that came with it. They also like watching Molly working, sometimes giving her tips or helping her solve problems.

The third symbiote partner that Molly met was a black nameless one who was part of the cage in Klyntar. It was brought to Earth by Knull as part of his army and was freed when Eddie became the new King in Black.

The nameless one didn’t have much sense of self in Klyntar, staying still every day at the inner layers of the planet, and then having its mind controlled. It may have had a name once, but now that a new part of its life started, it wants a new one, that it will pick when it’s ready.

During this last invasion, Molly was kept safe by Bloodlust and Sol. After it was over, they found the nameless one looking stunned (as they tried to figure out what life would be like now). They offered help, and the nameless one spent less time than Sol living in the closet before it was invited to bond as well.

The nameless one loves puns, watches cartoons and likes the variety of flavors in human food. Sometimes it will try to eat a leaf from one of Molly’s plants, just out of curiosity.

At first I didn’t want the relationship between these four to be romantic, but since then I changed my mind back and forth a bunch of times. What is really important is that they love each other.

Though the symbiotes give Molly the usual combo of enhanced senses, improved health, strength and agility and all the stuff, Molly rarely uses these abilities. When all three symbiotes manifest together, they are brown, but it usually only happens with them covering her limbs to reach some high shelf.

The group is vaguely aware of the symbiote business that happens on Earth only via the news, unless it involves them directly (ie New York was invaded. Again). Sol has tried to reach the Cosmos (before meeting the nameless one) but was unable to. They mostly stay minding their own business living domestic life as four-in-one

#symbruary #molly and the slimes (my ocs)#my ocs #symbiote oc

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kitausuret · 2 years

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23, 25, and 34 From the 35 Questions list!

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

I absolutely thrive on prompts and challenges. A lot of times I have a bunch of random ideas bouncing around in my head, but it's really hard for me to get motivated to complete them. Having a prompt, even if I am doing the loosest interpretation in the WORLD of that prompt, gives me an excuse to actually Write the Damn Thing. Prompt challenges are my favorite. That's why I've injected @symbruary directly into my veins the last three years!

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

Absolutely. I have tons of these kinds of ideas, but at least regarding Dust to Dust (and to a lesser but probably more relevant extent, "We've Got Us" [the fic with Jubulile and Toxin post-Carnage) I would love to write a bunch of spin-offs. And by spin-offs I mean f/f stuff. Originally for DTD I was thinking Liz/Felicia, but the more I think about it the more I want to somehow make Liz/Betty a thing, especially since they will both be so recurrent in the fic.

I also want to explore some stuff with Manny/Vicky, if only because there's Literally Nothing for either of them. I haven't decided if I want Manuela Calderon to stick around New York or if I'm going to ship her back to Virginia, but I'd like to think that she and Vicky get a stable if occasionally long-distance-ish relationship. Victoria Montesi is also a very cool character of her own right, and I think maybe some follow-up for their lives is deserved. It would be way more loosely tangential to the actual events of DTD, though, if only because you can only make a "shut up, Brock" joke so many times before it wears thin. (I'm kidding, it's always funny.)

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

HEHE I get to do this again. Since I just talked about "(Whatever Happens) We've Got Us" let me give a little bit of a part I really enjoyed writing and meant a lot to me:

His smile faded. "Jubulile, I'm trying my best, but I don't mind telling you I'm a long ways from okay." He crossed his arms and stared out at the ocean. "Toxin and I… we weren't a good match. There's only one symbiote that ever was and we ended badly. But it takes work to be symbiotic. That's something I wish I'd realized sooner. You get out of it what you put into it." "In the end, though, you were heroes, right?" "I wasn't the one who pushed Chthon back into hell." "You helped protect me, and everyone." She nudged him back. "My father was my hero, and I think he would've thought the same of you." "All I did was hand Toxin over to you." Still, Eddie's smile looked a little emotional. "But, yeah, I guess we were heroes."

It's very subtle because I really wanted this fic to be about Jubulile and not Eddie Brock, because I've written enough of that, but I think internally Eddie would cry a little over the comparison. Jubulile adored her father, he was a wonderful man, and Eddie can tell as much from the way she talks about him. Given his extremely strained relationship with his own father, hearing from Jubulile that she thinks her father would've appreciated Eddie's efforts... it had to mean something to him.

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

Writing is hard and sometimes you go 6 months or 19 months without an update and sometimes you just can't write and sometimes you write a lot and nobody looks at it but just remember that even one hit, one kudos, means that somebody is happy that you shared your work. They are happy you shared your fic with the world and I hope anyone who's reading this remembers that. Your weird rarepair that you had to create the tag for; that obscure character who was in just a couple issues; your polyship that someone else frowned upon inspired something in you and that's beautiful. If it makes you happy, keep writing, keep creating, and keep sharing. I love you and I support you. 💕

Ask me about my fics!

#asked and answered #kita talks writing

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felinalain · 4 years

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@symbruary

“So long as I remember to buy it presents now and then, we’re gonna live happily ever after.”

If I had to choose one single favorite canon work, “The Hunger (1996)” would be it.

If I had to list a few more, I would include First Host, Lethal Protector, The End, Marvel Present (2019) #5, Marvel action Spider-man 10-12 and a few others

#Venom #Eddie Brock #Symbiote #symbruary #I did it!!!#I lasted Symbruary!#hell yeah!#fel does art

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symbruary · 2 years

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This year's Symbruary harvest comes out to 65 fills! Adding last year's 138, and the original, insane 29-prompt-Symbruary's 267, that means that 471 original pieces of Symbiote content are archived on this blog.

We can't thank every participant enough, whether you contributed once, went the distance every year, or showed support to the contributors. I hope you were inspired, I hope you had fun!

#symbruary #2022

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land-of-brains-and-chocolate · 3 years

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i guess i am also going to @symbruary: it’s old news, incredibly old news, that i have a different 00s break-up for venom in mind.

my primary problem with the 00s, starting with the 2003 hunger, is that they reboot these characters only to give them Just Some Guy syndrome. like, eddie’s previous motivations were his incredibly fucked up sense of good and evil, and responsibility, and that in turn was revealed to stem from his incredibly fucked up sense of self; that was why he wanted to kill spider-man, and he wanted to be with the symbiote not only because it enabled this but also because he bonded with it as a kindred soul, fucked up in similar ways.

his primary motivation as of the 2003 hunger is, instead, not wanting to lose the symbiote to spider-man so he wouldn’t die of cancer. not wanting to die of cancer is a very uncomplicated, unspecific, uninteresting motivation. it makes eddie Just Some Guy. he and the symbiote also only ever used each other, with the symbiote having been evil and wanting spider-man the whole time. this also takes eddie’s last trait, incapable of taking responsibility, away from him, because if he really was possessed by an evil alien who made him do evil things, then he really was more or less innocent all along. he is Just Some Guy. the symbiote, meanwhile, is Just Some Parasite. and of course, none of that is compatible with what came before.

i still think an explosive break-up was inevitable. they had no reason to work on themselves when they were together, and their flaws would eventually turn against each other. as they slowly realise the harm they’ve caused, the people they’ve killed, eddie starts blaming it all on the symbiote, distorting it in his mind. the symbiote, meanwhile, reacts terribly to rejection, to being seen as a monster, namely by going, if that’s what i am, after all, then that’s what i’ll be. and eddie was the one who originally made it believe otherwise, too... since they’re right there in each other’s heads, it turns real ugly real fast.

important points for this break-up scenario:

MILK the fucking “eddie can sense his other’s pain even when separated” thing from pots for ALL IT’S WORTH. rub it IN that eddie is ACTUALLY hurting himself, thinking of himself, projecting on the symbiote. literally how fucking tasty is it to have him try to commit suicide by proxy when hunting down the symbiote. have him REALISE it á la carnage 2016.

anti-venom. i do in fact want something like anti-venom. i also do not want eddie to sell the symbiote, not even for ethical reasons, but because i refuse to believe even he would be that unbelievably incapable of understanding consequences. what the fuck did he think would happen when he sold the symbiote to a supervillain. what was the point. what.

basically i do not know the logistics of this but: i do not want anti-venom to be born from remnants of the symbiote, but from its remains, i want the symbiote to BE ACTIVELY BURNED OUT OF HIM as he asks to be cleansed, that’s how he gets rid of it.

but the GOOD news is that, since we know that lack of self-reflection is what caused all this on both their ends, and since we know that they were enabling each other not to self-reflect, engineering their own downfall...

we know that some painful fucking time apart can come with some painful fucking realisations, and that would be exactly what allows them to explicitly, naturally develop in a way that makes them want to undo it all and try again and be better.

basically we now have four eras, it was us (and it was good) --> it was you (and it was bad) --> it was me (and it was bad) ---> it was us (and it was bad (but it can be good)).

#pepe-silvia.gif #and yes it's going on! it's happening! go!

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lovestrucklaundry · 3 years

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@symbruary prompt 13: fear/power

saw peterparkerprotectionposse talk about peter turning into a symbiote and it reminded me of when double trouble came out or was announced or something and someone (maybe lobac but i'm not sure) on that topic of bodyswapping talked about the scenario of peter swapping bodies with the symbiote specifically and how he'd react to his newfound gooeyness and how it could play out...

and i think i'd rather it neither be in the context of a bodyswap (or at least not one with the venom symbiote specifically) nor of some karmic punishment, but still the idea of peter somehow becoming a symbiote or occupying a symbiote's body is quite compelling to me

like three images strongly come to mind when i think of it:

peter feeling helpless and overwhelmed in such a strange body (which is what i mostly remember of the double trouble adjacent thing)

venom carrying around the gooeyfied peter inside a jar (oh how the tables turn)

the venom symbiote helping peter and guiding him through being a symbiote as best as it can (the goo4goo momence i crave perhaps...)

and these are all connected of course.

i think the whole story if i had to come up with one would have maybe some evil scientist character creating an artificial symbiote of sorts...

maybe they've had a run-in with venom and were able to snatch a little bit of venom's web or something (just any dead piece of symbiote basically) and before it disintegrates they try to study it. they could end up purposefully having more subsequent run-ins with venom (nothing huge and always with some escape plan before it could get out of hand) just to get extra bits to study further (since it disintegrates so quickly when it's dead).

it's not the same as studying an alive symbiote by any means, but from these dead bits and observation (though limited) during the encounters the scientist somehow can put enough pieces together to pretty successfully recreate a symbiote (or i guess technically the venom symbiote since it was the sample).

However, this recreated symbiote is just the body with no conscience. a lifeless blob.

thankfully though this scientist already had a machine that transfers a person's conscience from one body to another.

so all they needed was a person. or maybe they already had a person. i don't know, it doesn't matter.

what matters is: all the villainous shenanigans and run-ins with venom from this scientist person catch peter's attention and suspicion. maybe he tries to investigate the person or keep an eye on them or whatever. and maybe it happens when he's breaking into and snooping around their lab or catching them by suprise or being caught by suprise himself but whichever way peter just ends up being the person whose conscience gets put into the blob.

i think at that point venom would have obviously gotten suspicious himself and would have been trying to look into that scientist and would also end up finding the lab shortly after spider-man, but only to catch the aftermath of all that (the scientist has already fled, taking all the notes and equipment they could carry, spider-man's body is on the floor like a corpse and there's an unknown erratic symbiote beside it)

to which venom would try to help that unknown symbiote and try to get the story out of it only to figure out it's peter himself.

and then the story would have venom trying to help peter get back into his body, looking for answers, looking for the scientist, looking after symbiote peter (and his unconscious body. and perhaps his apartment too). also of course helping him through the current reality of being a symbiote (especially because there was no telling how long it would last... or if it would ever end).

and i think it would fit this fear/power prompt in how there would be a strange sense of power for venom in all of that... the caretaker, the knower, the experienced. and also the obvious fear from peter about losing his body and his agency in a way and having to rely on venom of all people and being a symbiote of all things (not even really for his preconceived notions but simply because it's such a foreign experience... it's gotta be terrifying i think)

i'm not sure how it would end or if peter would get his body back. i think it would be easier to write and wrap up if he did just to not have to so deeply explore the consequences of becoming a symbiote if it's only a short term thing. like i'd rather it still be seen within the story as something that could very likely just be peter's reality from then on (as opposed to something they're all sure will end quickly so all they really gotta focus on is finding the person to fix it as fast as possible) because i'd rather it be a lot about peter being a symbiote and becoming more comfortable with that and with having to rely on and relate to venom (and particularly the symbiote half of venom and to a degree that's hard to imagine happening in any other context).

i think it would be a really unique opportunity to get on good terms with each other... there would be a lot of barriers wrt that which would take longer (and possibly peter back in his human body) to work through, but it would be an interesting starting point imo... very unique circumstances for sure... and, again, goo4goo momence... i imagine you can see the appeal here...

#haven't proofread and i won't. i am going to entertain my cat now. goodbye.#symbruary

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ckret2 · 4 years

Text

Anti-Appendectomy

This was written for @symbruary Day 16, "alien biology." I went with "alien having an alien reaction to human biology" for this one. And also wrote it at like, the last minute. But I'm guaranteed to get it out on the right day!!!

###

Eddie! You were missing an organ.

"I was missing a what?" Eddie replayed his other's declaration. "I was missing an organ?"

Between your fat sausage and your long squiggly sausage.

"What?"

Eddie was briefly flooded with the symbiote's horror at the discovery that not only had he been missing an organ, he'd been entirely unaware of the fact that it was missing or even where it had once been. Memories of some medical procedural that Eddie had never watched flitted through his mind, where doctors rushed to save the life of someone who'd woken up in a bath tub with both kidneys stolen.

"I was missing a kidney?" That didn't sound right.

No. Kidney makes pee? No. Different part. But same concept as the TV show.

"I've never woken up in a bath tub with any vital organs missing, love. Where was this missing organ supposed to be?"

The symbiote helpfully provided Eddie with the location. It provided the location from its own perspective: a sort of strange foreign proprioception. In the same way that humans had a sense so that even when they couldn't see their own bodies, they could tell where their limbs were and how they were positioned at all times, the symbiote had a similar internal sense that instead told it the shape that it was currently in, no matter if it was a shell over Eddie's skin or a branching nerve-like network stretched throughout his body. The sensation it passed to Eddie now was for a sensation of its body shaped like the spaces in between Eddie's organs, focusing on one particular spot.

It once would have been an entirely incomprehensible sensation—it had taken him a long time to learn how to comprehend the signals from the symbiote's senses. Much longer than it had taken the symbiote to learn his, both because of its prior experience inside a human body and because it had experienced so many different kinds of senses across so many different nervous systems that it could now simply fit most new species' unique ways of sensing the worlds into something it had learned before. Now, though, Eddie understood the signal perfectly easily: the symbiote was highlighting a spot near the junction between his large and small intestines. Aha. The fat sausage and the long squiggly sausage.

Yes. Intestines.

"But I'm not missing any organs there, I—" A realization dawned on Eddie. "My appendix?"

Not knowing the name of the organ, the symbiote was unable to confirm. Did you lose it?

"I had an appendectomy. How did you know, did you see the scar?"

Yes. But thought it might be stab wound? Only figured out you were missing an organ because I saw one in another human.

"Oh—"

So I copied it!

Eddie was silent a moment. "Oh, love. You didn't have to... You really didn't have to."

Haunting hospital flashbacks ran through his head. He could feel the symbiote riffling curiously through the memories. There was a sense of shock and betrayal as it discovered that it was the very doctors that were supposed to put back brutally stolen organs who had taken Eddie's.

But it's good for you. The symbiote was somewhat indignant now, sensing Eddie's lack of grief over having lost it in the first place and unenthusiasm over having it back. Holds healthy bacteria that live in your sausages. Back up system if you lose your gut friends.

Gut friends. That was the sweetest description of bacteria Eddie had ever heard. "But—love, they get infected. Very easily."

That's normal? Not surprising. It's very poorly designed. Don't worry—improved your appendix's anus.

"Please don't call it an anus."

Improved your appendix's door. Won't get stuck as easily, no more problems.

Eddie processed that. He had no idea what an appendix's door was—even with the helpful alien-proprioception diagram the symbiote gave it to try to explain—but... "You're saying you redesigned it so that I can't get appendicitis again?"

Don't know what causes "appendicitis." Do know your appendix is poorly designed, so I improved it.

"Oh." Eddie thought that over. Well, that was fine then, as long as he wasn't going to have another hospital trip to have it out.

If it goes bad again, I will eat it.

That worked too. "Thanks, love."

The symbiote was overflowing with loving self-satisfied delight. You are welcome.

###

Crossposted to AO3, link in my description. (If you're on mobile, you've gotta scroll through the ask/submit/etc links to reach it.) If you enjoyed the fic, I'd appreciate a reblog or comment!

#symbiote #venom symbiote #venom #eddie brock #symbrock #symbruary #fanfic #my writing

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clockpunkgamelover · 3 years

Text

First Steps

Written for @symbruary Day 27-28: Firsts. This isn’t directly focused on Eddie or Symby, but it is focused on my own OC, Preta! If you want to know more about them, check out this bio here. Hope you enjoy :)

The still strange, oddly comforting coolness spread over his skin. Looking over his reflection in the mirror, the deep ultramarine covering his entire body, the large white splotches over his eyes, the gold bands encircling his upper limbs, and the ever-shifting golden flecks scattered all over...Phil was still trying to process that this was actually happening to him.

You know, my coloration is actually very special back where I come from. The new voice in his head preened. I’m the only one who looks this gorgeous.

“Yeah, I can agree that you’re really pretty.” Good thing he lived alone in his apartment (did Venom ever get weird looks when they talked to themselves? Maybe the teeth discouraged that). Phil turned from side to side, examining himself from multiple angles. With Preta on, Phil somehow looked even skinnier than usual. He certainly didn’t cut an imposing figure, especially compared to walls of muscle like Captain America or the Hulk.

I think that’s why you should start eating some real meat again. Drop this vegetarianism. Phil felt the disgust emphasized on the last word rumble through his whole body.

“Hey, I want to stick with this diet for at least a full year.” He ignored the disappointed grumbling and continued examining his reflection. “Hm, something’s missing…” he murmured, stroking the empty chest area.

A spider shape drawn in gold began to appear there. “Whoa, stop right there. Even if you’re a symbiote, we really don’t have anything to do with Venom or Spider-man. So a spider really doesn’t fit us. Wouldn’t want people making the wrong associations.”

The gold lines faded away. Fine then. What do you want instead?

“Hmm…” Phil reached out to his reflection, a finger tracing a shape along his chest. Golden lines appeared along his tracing, forming two concentric circles, with eight spokes emerging out. “There we go. Now, let’s try this hero business for ourselves.”

According to all the superhero memoirs he’d read (or at least the free excerpts that he’d managed to find online), that big first step always came down to a “leap of faith.” Looking over the city streets from this rooftop he’d chosen, Phil tried to quell the butterflies in his stomach about making that leap literal.

“So, uh, you can do that web-slinging thing like Spider-man and Venom too right?”

Preta scoffed. Of course I can. Manipulating our biomass is a simple skill for all symbiotes.

“Cool, cool. Good to know.”

Phil stepped backwards, away from the edge. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing to center himself.

Just get going already, you weenie.

“I am, I am!” He ran towards the edge, leaping straight off into the air, higher than he ever could before. As he sailed through his arc, he could feel Preta adjusting his body for him, compensating for gravity and so many other factors. He held his arm out, trying to mimic how he’d seen those spider-heroes do it -

Thwip. A deep blue tendril shot out of his hand, adhering to a building’s side. He swung through the air, all the earlier apprehension gone, grinning like an idiot behind the mask.

He was laughing with pure exhilaration now, bouncing from rooftop to rooftop. This was amazing, this was freeing. He was doing so much acrobatic stuff when he had zero ability before! He spun and cartwheeled, grinded on a pipe to launch himself into the air, forming a perfect silhouette against the full moon. Nothing could stop him. No, them. He and his symbiote shared this wonderful pride.

A sharp scream pierced the air. Looking down, he saw a woman being accosted by a mugger. With a thwip, he started swinging down to her.

This guy will barely require any effort. Is this really what our grand heroic debut will be?

“She’s in trouble. We can hardly ignore people who need help, that’s just common kindness.”

Fine. But we’ll have his brain, yes?

“We take him out nonlethally. I’ll get you a chocolate bar, okay?”

Displeased grumbling.

“Two?...Three king-sized bars.”

That’s more like it.

Phil sighed internally. He’ll worry about his sugar intake later; right now, it’s time to be a hero.

#symbruary #venom #oc #venom oc

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bakageta · 3 years

Text

For @symbruary prompt 4: animals, I had to do something with @lmtyl‘s symbisona. They’ve posted art that you should definitely check out. Betaed by @saja-star

Title: They Are Fluffy Rating: G

Eddie woke up to sharp needle points pressing rhythmically into his side. There was something with claws next to him underneath the blankets, something toasty warm and peach fuzz soft. Considering Venom had left it alone, whatever it was probably wasn’t too dangerous.

“Veeee…” Eddie groaned. It was too early to be dealing with a mystery creature in his armpit. “Th’hell is in bed with us?”

The cat from last night. Venom expanded and contracted in his chest, sharing in a contented sigh.

“Right.” Eddie agreed blankly.

With a feeling of rolled eyes, Venom nudged Eddie into a memory of their walk home from the Golden Gate bridge. It was miserable, a downpour that had soaked Eddie to the bone before Venom had a chance to cover him in an approximation of a raincoat, but, while Eddie was distracted by the weather, Venom had focused on the long-haired cat trailing after them. The cat hadn’t seemed to mind the rain nearly as much as Eddie’s memories indicated it should, though maybe that was because the water slid off it's coat instead of saturating it. It was a similar color pattern to the cat that Eddie had shared with Anne, and Venom wondered if he’d want to keep it.

For his part Eddie only realized that the cat had followed him into the apartment when it darted in front of him and hid under the couch. He’d thought for a brief moment about trying to retrieve it, but settled for hoping that it wouldn’t pee in his shoes and promptly forgot about it.

The cat that Eddie found under his covers looked completely different than the one that Venom remembered following them home.

“What happened to your fur?” Eddie asked the pink, hairless cat that was curled up next to him, looking at him with the kind of put upon irritation that only a cat could manage. There was no sign it had ever had fur.

It answered with a burbling “murrrp” and squinted its eyes shut against the cold air beyond the covers.

They were too warm, Venom said too quickly to be translating.

“And how the hell does that even work?” Even ignoring how Venom knew the cat was too warm, animals just didn’t go bald overnight. The cat was completely unaffected by Eddie’s concerns as it covered its face with a paw and curled up tighter.

Before Venom could respond a wave of fur bloomed from the cat flowing from its face, down its body in waves, and fluffing its tail into a plush bottle brush that covered its nose.

“Oh. It works like that. The fur just comes back because of course it does.” The not-cat seemed content to snuggle against his chest and he could still feel Venom lazing idly against the inside of his ribs.

They are a good pair, Venom observed. Well matched. They reached with Eddie’s arm and sunk his fingers into the not-cat’s fur. As Venom massaged Eddie’s fingertips against the not-cat’s side the fur parted and flowed around them like water. He got the impression of a patch of sunlight on a pile of warm, clean laundry. An ideal place to lay and be warm on both sides.

“Pair?” Eddie took his hand back and started petting. The fur compressed under his palm as he would have expected. As he stroked the not-cat, its fur curled up and clung to the side of his hand, just like Venom tended to do when they pretended to be a jacket for him. The not-just-a-cat started purring, an almost normal sound echoed by a deep rumble that sounded bigger than the creature making it.

Yes. Venom built a head up and out of Eddie’s flank, pushing the blankets down to his hips and leaving the more-than-a-cat completely uncovered.

As if on cue the fur on the not-cat’s tail thickened and solidified into a second head which glanced at Eddie before it locked eyes with Venom. The other symbiote, because Eddie couldn’t think of what else it could be, was a warm two-toned brown. It had a blocky head that reminded Eddie of a lioness’ muzzle with large pointed teeth poking out from under its upper lip.

“We are Venom and Eddie,” Venom introduced.

The other Klyntar extended a thin tendril, which Venom accepted, and Eddie was suddenly aware of another set of thoughts in the back of his head. The brown symbiote’s mind was familiar in its broad strokes, but the cat’s mind wasn’t. It was a different set of priorities and intentions, content with its environment, and completely unconcerned.

They were the motion of falling on to the perfect sun-warmed spot and landing in the perfect pose with just enough underbelly to tempt the foolish into range of their claws. And they were a human sound (Buffy! Buffy? Buffy.), repeated until they knew it was theirs. And together they were soft, and warm, and bigger than they were alone.

"Flop and Buffy?" Eddie questioned after a moment of thought.

The brown symbiote sent him a feeling of impressed agreement. He was pretty smart for a human.

“Together they are Fluffy,” Venom intoned dramatically while Buffy stretched their legs out contentedly and rolled onto their back.

#imagine how much trouble a cat and symbiote would get into together #it would be amazing and beautiful and terrible #symbruary #prompt 4 #venom #venom fanfiction #AO3 link when I get a chance to post it there #eddie brock #venom symbiote #my writing

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