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pinkie-quinns · 2 months ago

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rocker eddie/actor steve | exes to lovers | fame au p6 (final part)

p1 p2 p3 p4 p5 interlude

Steve thinks about second chances, as he walks along Greenwich Ave. He thinks about them when he tosses the wig in a garbage can that reeks of puke.

And he thinks about them, when Eddie opens the door, eyes catching on the rip in Steve’s jeans, the liner under his eyes. When he lights up & says, “You came.”

Yeah, Steve thinks about second chances.

He offers Eddie a small smile as he walks in, can’t bring himself to acknowledge it all. The world of them. Him going. Eddie playing that song. What that could mean, like, actually mean. Can’t do it yet.

He likes this place better than the mansion in LA. It’s messy and grungy with stupid, corny shit plastered on the walls. Feels more… Eddie.

They walk out to the balcony. It overlooks a tiny little green space, his neighbors’ homes. Eddie lights a cigarette and offers one to Steve. Steve quit years ago. Eddie knows that now. He takes it anyway.

“Last tour I sold out Madison Square Garden and now I sell out Forest Hills.” Eddie’s chuckling, “Like I’m back at the trailer park.”

Eddie’s third album didn’t do the numbers his first two had. So they’d downsized, just a little.

Steve sighs, he didn’t fly all the way out here to coddle his ex, “It was a good show, Eddie.”

“Yeah.” He drags, smiles to himself. “It was a really good show. I’m really glad you saw it, baby.”

Steve cringes, full body shiver. Eddie doesn’t seem to realize what he said, Steve’s sure as hell not gonna clue him in.

“How’d your meeting go?”

Steve tries to play it off. “Good. Pretty good.”

Eddie chuckles again, leans into him that way he always does, like personal space is more of a suggestion than a boundary. A hand brushes his cheek, a light, teasing tap of knuckles, “What’s pretty good, Harrington?”

Steve smiles into it. Can’t help it. “There’s uh… you know that blacklist script I mentioned last month? There’s probably a lead there for me.”

Eddie lights up again, bright and true, “Steve, that’s amazing.”

Steve snorts, “Not jealous?”

“Nah, I’m happy for you ba-” Eddie catches it this time, chokes on his drag, coughs and flounders, “Happy for you, man.”

Steve’s not sure if he can do this, actually. Can’t face this Eddie. The one whose ego isn’t a storm cloud, who’s okay failing, who’s okay seeing him succeed. Who’s honest and sincere and wants the best for him. Eddie who would lose thousands of fans just to sing Steve’s favorite song.

Eddie’s eyes are shiny, “But you’ve been good?”

“Yeah, yeah. Good. Keeping busy. I filmed an Amex commercial. Good money. Made my agents happy.” He’s rambling around it. He squints into the dark, drops it casually as he can muster. “I’m gonna start seeing that country singer, probably. The one with that Kansas song? Our people are setting something up.”

Eddie’s face falls, the sun out with a sentence. “What are we doing here, Harrington?”

Steve’s tone is bleary, sheepish, “What?”

“Been losing my mind this last month. Can’t stand not having you around. But you- you’re dating?”

It’s a shrug, it’s all he's got, “Sure.”

Eddie’s hunched, shoulders tight. He talks small. “You told me you loved me. Before you left.”

Steve huffs a breath. The air is cold. “C’mon. You were like, obliterating my brain with your dick. I say impulsive shit like that all the time.”

He doesn’t. They both know that.

Eddie clicks his teeth, shakes a whisper. “Nah. You don’t.”

Steve falters, trips on his tongue. He finds his voice low and hoarse, he can barely say it, “Please don’t hold me to it.”

Eddie won’t look him in the eye. He blinks up at the sky, “I love you. For the record. I um, I never stopped. Guess I’ve been pretty obvious about it.”

“Eddie, c’mon. Don’t do this. It’s not fair.”

“Date Dorothy.” His laugh is glacial. “I don’t mind. It won’t be real, right? Those things never fucking are.”

“I don’t know– it could be.” The ground’s falling under Steve’s feet. “Down the line, or whatever.”

Something cracks, crumples. “I had you. God fucking damnit. I had you and I–”

Steve’s not expecting the sobs until they happen. Flemmed and shaky and pathetic. Those brown eyes silver-wet like moons.

Eddie pushes his palms into his cheeks. “Sometimes, after you leave, I just stare up at the ceiling and try to invent like, time travel or something. Just to go back and slap the shit outta myself. I was a goddamn coward. Couldn’t face it. Could talk around it, sure. Write it into my songs like that was honest. But, nah, I couldn’t look in the mirror. Definitely couldn’t look at you. I’m facing it now. I need you to know that. It won’t fix all shit I did, won’t fix the stupid fucking way I tried to fix it the first time. It’s there, it’s out, hell, it’s goddamn double platinum.” He sputters it out miserable, “But I am trying. Even if this– if we can’t. Need you to know I’m facing it now. I want to be better.”

Then Eddie looks right at him, looks at Steve like looking is enough to break his heart. “And I don’t wanna be selfish anymore cause it’s poison, Steve. But fuck. I know I don’t deserve it but if you’ll have me, I’ll– I’m there. Whatever way you’ll take me.”

“Eddie.” Steve doesn’t know why he’s here. Why he keeps digging this wound, ripping out stitches.

“Please? Can’t walk away again. Don’t have it in me.”

“Yeah.” Steve laughs. “You only do that when it’s easy.”

Eddie flinches. Shoves a ringed hand into a pocket. “Too late, huh?”

Steve scratches the back of his head and turns on his heel, “We can’t keep doing this.”

He gets as far the kitchen. Eddie quicksteps in front of the counter, blocks his out. But he’s cowering, ducking his head. “Did you um, like the song?”

It swells up all at once, that bone-deep cruelty of it. A gust turned tsunami. “Not really, Ed. Kinda broke my fucking heart.”

“Shit,” Eddie clicks. “Yeah, I, um, I’m not all that good at the grand gesture thing. Probably should have figured that out by now.”

Steve lets it all in. The red that’s been thrumming through his body since this whole thing started. Lets it possess him. He pushes into Eddie’s space, callous and cruel. “You’re really fucking me up, here. Do you know that?”

“I– I’m not trying to.” Eddie blinks. Frustratingly earnest.

“What we’re doing– Whatever this is. It makes me feel pathetic. I’d be the dumbest asshole on the planet if I took you back.” He’s screaming now. The balcony door is still open. He doesn’t care if anyone hears. He wants them to hear.

Eddie’s lip is shaking. “I’m sorry.”

“I hate you.” Steve murmurs. The red’s coming off in whisps, quicker than it ever had, easier than it should.

Eddie’s smile is weak. His face is wet. “I know.”

“You ruined me.” He leans in, finds half a punch in it. Last one he’s got.

Eddie closes his eyes, brow furrowed. “I know.”

“I don’t want anyone else.” He’s tired. Bone tired. Tired of the ache that only ever seems to go away around, well–

Eddie’s guilt is plain. It's all of him. “I’m sorry.”

Steve takes a breath. He thinks about second chances.

“You really want to be with me?”

Eddie looks at him like he’s already burrowed in. Ribs and guts and blood. “Got my priorities way out of whack for a minute there. Jesus, way too many minutes there. But yeah. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re it for me, Stevie.”

Steve groans, taps his forehead lightly against a shelf. Eddie’s hand lands steady at his arm, awkward and cautious and right. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“No.” Eddie says soft. “You’re not.”

“Yeah, I am.” Steve shakes his head. Waves a finger into Eddie’s chest. “You sang Dave fucking Matthews.”

“Don’t remind me, man. They’re gonna start shattering my CDs.” He pauses, sincere as ever. ‘I, uh, wouldn’t take it back though.”

Steve groans again, presses his head into Eddie’s shoulder. “No, you don’t get it. You sang Dave Matthews and now I’m gonna have to call my team and tell them it’s not gonna happen with the country singer.”

Eddie blubbers, big Saturday morning cartoon recalibration. “You’re– what?”

Steve shrugs, catches his eye. “Now I’m gonna have to talk about my coming out journey with Angie at People and dude, she’s been on my ass about it for years. Total sore winner.”

He’s shaking his head, “Harrington… Steve. Stevie.”

But Steve keeps rattling on, “I’m gonna have to tip off the paparazzi that Dark Pines star Steve Harrington was spotted sneaking into Eddie Munson’s brownstone at midnight for a secret rendezvous. Gonna have to go for a jog around the block first thing tomorrow, with like, more hickeys than a teen who just got their first girlfriend.”

“You’ve really thought about this, huh?”

Eddie’s back pushes into the edge of the kitchen counter. And Steve thinks about that photo that forced them together again, about Eddie’s easy grin, about the soft adoration high on his cheeks, about never being so young. He thinks about fucking up and growing up and growing apart and changing. And he smiles against chapped lips that taste like cigarettes and coming home.

And he says, “Gonna have to find someone to give me the hickeys.”

And Eddie lights up like the sun, “I know a guy.”

And Steve, well, he thinks about second chances.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfic #angst #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fanfic #twitter threads (but actually this is a tumblr exclusive atm)#fame au

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artist-issues · 5 months ago

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I like that when Tyler goes to help the guy getting left behind during the night tornado, Kate tries to come with, and he waves her back and says, “no, go back!” and she actually does. It’s such a tiny moment. But she listens, and stays where it’s relatively safe, while the man does the more dangerous thing.

They didn’t have to do that. They had already checked the “Tyler is a nice guy who helps people during a crisis” box. Twice. They could’ve had Kate crawl out there and be the hero (actually they couldn’t, because that moment is supposed to come during the climax, but they could’ve at least had her insist on being able to do as much as the man can.)

I mean, they had every excuse to strong-female-character it and make her be like “no I’m helping!” Or have him make the wrong call during the rescue, and she pops in and saves the situation with the right call. Or they could’ve forcefully sidelined her—shown that she wanted to help and would have, but some debris or something blocked her from helping. Or they could’ve had her just plain argue with him more, show that in that quick moment she doesn’t think the YouTube hotshot, big-strong-man can do it without her help, something like that. But no.

Instead, by having him tell her what to do, they give her the opportunity to trust him. Trust that he knows what he’s doing, trust that he should be the one to double back into danger, trust that his insistence that she go back is what’s best.

The filmmakers do this great back-and-forth, share-the-load synergy between Tyler and Kate from the moment the tornado hits. They go, “she led them to the pool, now he’s going to help this guy get to safety—she’s going to grab his hand and pull him to the pipes, now he’s going to shield her.” They take turns in the hero-role. They team up. Even in a crazy crisis they’re two equals who respect each other. The movie could’ve made Kate disproportionately smarter or more courageous than her male co-Star character. Instead, she’s markedly not, and learns something from him about riding your fears.

And in the meantime, he steps right out of the way to let her get the glory with the news story. Even though he’s the dude with his face on a T-shirt, YouTube famous. So it’s not like she’s introducing nothing to his character arc, to improve him. They’re equals, not overcompensating for perceived inequalities like all the other characters our culture loves.

And this is just the weather thriller movie?

It’s the winds of plain-good storytelling. Without letting garbage progressive-culture ideas screw up the characterizations.

#Twisters #tyler owens #twisters movie #twisters 2024 #kate Carter #tyler x kate #characterizations #character writing #character design #storytelling #writing #filmmaking #scene #2024 movies

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marlynnofmany · 4 months ago

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Recreational Food

I admired the scenery as we walked. “I’m glad we came during the dry season. Looks like there wouldn’t be much solid ground otherwise.” This wide flat area was pretty clearly the flood plains for the river just over the hillside, with several tiny plateaus where huge trees had escaped getting washed away. Everything else was dirt.

Paint spread her arms beside me, basking in the sun like the little lizardy alien she was. “I’m just glad to be outside! It’s been so long since we had a delivery on an actual planet, not to mention one that smells nice.”

It smelled like dry river mud to me, which was nice enough, but maybe those trees were extra appealing to Heatseeker senses. There was a scent of something kind of like rosemary on the breeze, now that I thought about it.

Paint was still talking. “We’re not even in a hurry today! The drop-off went fine, so we can stroll back to the ship at our own pace. This is lovely. I could stay out here all day.”

The ground rumbled. Splashes and the bleats of distressed animals sounded from the direction of the river. The rumbling got louder.

I asked, “Are you familiar with the concept of ‘jinxing it’?”

Before Paint could answer, a stampede swept over the hill toward us. Paint screamed and bolted. I ran after her, frantically searching for a plateau that was both climbable and close.

“This one!” I yelled over the noise of what had to be hundreds of alien fauna. Vaguely buffalo-shaped things without horns. I’d study them more closely when they weren’t closing in fast. Paint barely heard me, so I towed her over to the plateau and boosted her up. She wasn’t a natural climber, but she made do, scrambling to safety with me close behind. We made it out of trampling range just in time.

I clambered up and lay flat under the spreading tree while Paint hyperventilated beside me, an ocean of brown fur rolling by underneath. The rocky ground shook and the tree showered us with leaves. But the branches didn’t fall and neither did we, and eventually the herd calmed down from whatever had startled them.

The problem was, they calmed down before they finished passing our tiny island. Thundering footsteps slowed to a mooing, moaning amble, with buffalo-things surrounding us for a good distance in all directions.

My phone rang. We both twitched. Luckily the animals were loud enough to miss it. I pulled the phone from my pocket, hands vibrating with adrenaline, and answered a call from the captain.

“Are you safe?” she asked, her voice distant over the phone. “We got a report of local fauna moving unexpectedly.”

I laughed, wide-eyed while Paint tried to get her breathing under control. “Yeah, we barely made it. I’m not sure how we’re going to get back, though. They’re all around us, and I don’t like our chances if we try to just walk through.”

“Yes, don’t get too close.” I heard claws on keys as Captain Sunlight checked the local information bank. “These creatures are known to be hostile. They also treat approaching shuttles like threats, which doesn’t bode well for an air rescue.”

I tried to breathe deeply and get my heart rate back to normal. “Threats that they should attack, or run from?”

“This says they face off with shuttles, and defend whatever territory they’re occupying at the time. Attempts to chase them away have been unsuccessful, as have attempts to lead them away.”

“Yeah, that’s the worst,” I said, glancing up at the thick branches above. “Our vertical access is garbage right now anyway. We’d have a hard time getting into a shuttle.”

Paint was looking a little more calm, though worried. “Maybe they’ll wander away on their own?”

I relayed the question in case Captain Sunlight hadn’t heard it. She said, “Maybe. Let me contact the local authorities for more information. Stay safe; I’ll call you back.”

I said goodbye and put the phone away, then just lay there listening to my heartbeat and the various grunts from below. Paint sniffed audibly, no doubt appreciating the spicy tree smell. I tried to enjoy the view. The buffalo-things had heavy paws instead of hooves, and their faces were misshapen to my Earth eyes, more mooselike than anything. The thick brown fur was normal enough, though.

I was trying to think of what breed of dog it reminded me of when a cloud covered the sun.

A dark cloud. The kind that might be full of rain.

“Oh no,” I said.

“That can’t be rain,” Paint said, scrambling up. “It’s not the rainy season!”

I got to my feet, clutching a branch. “It could be rain. A flash flood might solve one of our problems, but…”

“Oh, that would be so much worse!” Paint hugged her arms close. The air hadn’t gotten that much cooler yet, but rain could be bad for a cold-blooded Heatseeker. And that was even without considering whether we’d have to swim for it.

I looked around frantically. “There’s got to be something we can do. Maybe throw a rock and scare them into stampeding away again?”

We scoured the rocky plateau, but nothing came off bigger than a fingernail, and the only things up there aside from the tree were some sparse bits of grass/moss and stray dirt. Even the tree didn’t have any small branches that looked easily snapped off; they were all thick limbs. I could probably climb out over the herd if I really needed a stick, but that did not look worth it.

I checked my pockets. “Wait, I have food. Maybe that’ll help.” We’d left right before lunch, and I’d grabbed a few portable things in case the delivery took too long. I thought hard about what kind of food these creatures might like, and how they might react to it, as I knelt and emptied my pockets onto the ground.

It was all Earth stuff from the import sector of the last space station we’d stopped at. A packet of turkey jerky. Freeze-dried strawberries. A tube of peanut butter that had thankfully not ruptured in the scramble up here. Pop Rocks.

I picked up that last one, thinking fast.

Paint was reading the label on the peanut butter. “Oh, this is the one some of your people are allergic to. I suppose it’s too much to hope these creatures are as well?”

“I have a better idea,” I said, eyeing the lowest branch. It was sturdy. There were creatures below. And they were all wet from the river. I turned to Paint. “Throwing something might startle them enough to stampede if we hit one just right, but I’ll bet that’s not as startling as the sound of sudden hissing from the back of their neck.”

“Which of your foods does that??” Paint asked.

I held up the brightly colored package. “Recreational food. They’re basically sugar crystals with tiny pockets of compressed air inside. They pop and hiss when they dissolve.”

Paint shook her head. “I’m not even going to ask why.”

“Great.” I shoved the package into a thigh pocket that I’d be able to reach easily, then hooked an arm over the branch and climbed up.

“Be careful!”

“I will,” I said as the clouds darkened further. Lying on the branch like a particularly awkward jungle cat, I scooted over the edge of the plateau. None of the creatures seemed to notice, busy as they were in nosing the dusty ground for sprouted grass, or whatever passed for it here. Good. I wanted their heads down.

When I was over a big one, I stopped and got out the pack, oh so carefully. Dropping it now could well be the kind of mistake I’d regret for a long time. I ripped open the package with care, knees clamped around the branch, as thunder rumbled closer than I’d like.

Then I gauged the angle carefully, and poured a stream of Pop Rocks directly onto the buffalo-thing’s neck.

I heard it crackle and pop as the sugar dissolved in the wet fur. Suddenly everything was panicked bellows and the thunder of feet. I clung to the branch, hoping desperately that it wasn’t about to snap off under my weight. All I could see below me was waves of brown fur.

It felt like the stampede went on for longer this time. Maybe because I didn’t have any climbing to distract me; all I could do was hold onto the branch like the most desperate of baby monkeys, and hope it held.

It held.

Finally the rumbling footsteps receded over the hill, leaving churned-up dirt below and a very grateful Paint behind me.

“You did it! It worked! Now let’s go; I think I see rain!”

She was right. I shimmied back onto solid ground to pick up the rest of my snacks, shoving them into pockets alongside the crumpled Pop Rocks package, then I helped Paint scramble down from the plateau.

Wind had picked up, blowing rain towards us in a visible wall from the west. But something silver glinted in the sky to the north, which grew swiftly into the welcome sight of a local rescue shuttle.

We ran for it. It landed on the riverbed, door open and arms waving from inside, and we dove in just before the rain hit.

“Safe!” Paint exclaimed as the door shut and a Frillian in a uniform guided her into a chair. “That was too many close calls for one day!”

I followed the directions to take my own seat as the shuttle lifted off. A different Frillian handed me a blanket, though I didn’t need it. Nice and warm, though. I asked Paint, “Ready to go back to the indoors for a while?”

She settled a heat shawl around her shoulders and sighed with relief. “I suppose so. Much less chance of getting trampled or frozen there.”

The official next to me asked, “What caused the herd to move away? We were told they had surrounded the area.”

I grinned and dug out the crumpled package. “Recreational food!” There were still a few Pop Rocks caught in one corner, so I dumped them into my mouth to demonstrate. The expressions on the rescuers’ faces were great as the candy hissed and popped on my tongue. “I poured thith down on a big one,” I explained around it.

Paint added, “It worked great! Scared them right away.”

The officials exchanged a look, then asked to see the package. I happily handed it over and explained where I’d gotten it. Paint said our courier ship would be happy to arrange a delivery of some if they wanted.

By the time we reached our ship, the local officials were ready to talk to the captain about ordering some recreational Earth food, to use for an entirely different purpose than it was made for. But that would hardly be the first time.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #more fun with putting things to creative uses #I definitely wanted to write about this one #but it couldn't be something simple and straightforward #that would be a wasted opportunity #so now we've got a mini adventure instead #featurinnnnnng...#Pop Rocks #an edible thing that is weird by any metric #you can see why I wanted to include it in one of these stories #it just begs to be included just as much as the bubble wrap did

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theradioghost · 1 month ago

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top four easy ass houseplants according to me, a person who's pretty good at killing houseplants:

4. norfolk island pine. it's like a tiny tree you keep indoors all year and is endlessly adorable, plus despite being technically pet toxic it doesn't drop needles like an actual conifer and anecdotally even our dumbest cat doesn't seem interested in messing with it. they're cheap af around christmas as long as you make sure you don't get one that's been spray painted darker green, because while it might survive (mine did!) all the dyed branches tend to fall off once it has new ones and they don't make new growth on old wood so it'll have naked feet. this is the only problem any of mine have ever had.

3. those little mini roses you get at supermarkets. apparently these things were bred by the dutch and boy I guess the dutch really do take their flowers seriously. these win not by having no problems but by being completely indestructible. I have repeatedly let mine dry out or turn to soup and they have withstood years of attacks by spider mites, leaving them nothing but naked green sticks half a dozen times, and every time they've bounced straight back. I bought some of those self-watering pots for mine so I couldn't kill them that way and I genuinely don't think anything can defeat them now.

2. lithops. I used to think they were difficult to keep alive until I realized that the advice I got to water them once a month? garbage. the advice to water them every three months? garbage. I watered my lithops one single time this calendar year and they are fat and flourishing with new leaves on the way. IT'S A PLANT YOU WATER ONCE A YEAR.

1. papyrus. actually needs daily maintenance but as someone whose cocktail of anxiety and ADHD has killed dozens of plants by over and/or underwatering and fussing, papyrus is fantastic because there are literally no questions. it sits in our windowless bathroom under one single grow light, which is housed in a cheap desk lamp we got at a thrift store that isn't even taller than the papyrus. it has a dish of water under it. when I first use the bathroom in the morning, I turn the light on. when I last use it at night, I turn the light off. if there is no water in the dish, I put water in it directly from the bathroom sink. broken stems make the world's best cat toys. we bought the (dwarf variety) papyrus last year at one foot tall and six inches in diameter. the papyrus is three feet in height and diameter. soon the house will belong to the papyrus.

#my posts

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seat-safety-switch · 2 years ago

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When you’re communicating on the internet, it can be easy to elide details or simply forget important facts that the other person doesn’t know. Even though we have become fast friends, bonding over our shared love of garbage, I have never told you about my neighbour, Ken.

Ken is what they call an average North American male. He doesn’t really exercise much, his car is financed, and he has a passing interest in professional tennis that he won’t admit to unless tortured. If you knew Ken only casually, this is what you’d leave it at. Maybe you also volunteer at the PTA he serves, perhaps you work with him at his something-or-other accounting job. When you’re his neighbour, you’re something more than just a casual acquaintance. For instance, you have to deal with his hobby.

What is Ken’s hobby? Fucking bees is Ken’s hobby. No, I don’t mean he has intercourse with the stinging insects, although I wouldn’t put it past him. Ever since the city has allowed at-home beekeeping licenses, out of a noble-but-idiotic belief that it will help reverse the inevitable collapse of Earth’s biosphere, he’s spent every free minute out in the yard taking care of his venomous flower-molesting micropets. And as a result, I have bees taking up residence in a lot of my decrepit cars. They’re perfect for those little shits to open up an apiary inside, because they don’t move very often, they’re shielded from the weather, and the hollowed-out headlight housing of a ‘69 Imperial has a lot of Art Deco appeal that impresses the other queens when they come to visit.

In practice, this means that I get stung a lot when I decide to finally resuscitate one of those cars in order to drive to work. Lesser men would just hose the place down with brake cleaner, but I don’t really want to kill these tiny dudettes, and also brake cleaner is expensive. I need to save it for starting fluid. Recently, I discovered an alternative method to get them to leave.

I figured it out when I was at the airport, watching a demonstration of old-timey planes. They used a smaller cart with an engine on it to start up an old plane. Since that engine was basically solid-mounted to the cart, it vibrated like a concrete tamper and shook the floor. Hell, I have lots of spare engines and an old front axle from a Jeep, let’s party.

Friends: it worked great. Not only did the bees flee my yard, but all manner of rodents, stray cats, raccoons, and magpies also headed for the hills. I was finally able to work on a shitbox old Dodge without worrying about my hand getting bitten or stung, and all it cost me was permanent tinnitus. Not like you could have noticed before with all the buzzing.

#best of

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maddogofshimano · 5 months ago

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A Tiny Man Among Men: Kiryu Boss Rush

oh boy this one was a real hoot. we got two new cards with it that I want to show off because they’re so fun

look at them!! that’s the fish he caught in the opening of Y3!!!!!

summary: Shortly after moving to Okinawa, Kiryu faces down with his most cunning foe yet--a crayfish.

2007 Not long after Kiryu came to Okinawa... Kiryu was invited by a local resident named Uchima to help with a river clean-up event (tl note: name is 内間)

Kiryu: Uchima-san... Is this the river we're supposed to be cleaning up?

Uchima: Sure is. Filthy, right? It's usually beautiful, but inconsiderate people keep throwing garbage into it. Uchima: It's particularly bad right now... I clean trash out of it every month, but before I know it there's more trash than ever. Kiryu: ...That's awful. Uchima: I think up stream's a bit prettier, so how about you handle that since it's your first time. Kiryu: No, I'm fine right here. You should do the up stream. Uchima: ...Eh? A-Are you sure? I'll take you up on that kind offer, I've been having some awful back pain. Kiryu: Sure. I'll do it. Uchima: Well then, I'll get going, and if you need anything just let me know. Uchima: ...Oh, right. Kiryu-san, please watch out for the animals. Kiryu: ? Watch out for... animals? Uchima: During clean-ups, I've had crows and rats and other such animals knock over the trash and cause all sorts of issues. Uchima: Since these are the elite survivors of all the extermination activities done in this area, a lot of them are strangely intelligent. Uchima: This one time a weasel snuck into our house, got into our fridge, and stole all of our food--and mice have been pooping on the mouse traps, almost like they were making fun of us humans... Kiryu: ...Heh, so it's that kind of situation. I got it. I'll be careful. Uchima: Great, see ya then. <he leaves> Kiryu: ...Alright, let's get to it.

<sounds of Kiryu splashing around in the river> Kiryu: ...Whew. Plastic bottles in a convenience store garbage bag... how can someone just dump this in a river...

Kiryu: Seriously... Who the hell would... <a blade-like sound happens> Kiryu: ...Guh!? What the!? American Crayfish: ................. (tl note: also known as the red swamp crayfish, Procambarus clarkii. I'm shortening it just to crayfish from here on)

Kiryu: A crayfish!? ...It was in the trash's crevice!? <another slicing sound, Kiryu steps to the side> Kiryu: Kh... You're quick on your feet... Crayfish: ..... Kiryu: It's back on top of that garbage again. Kiryu: ...I just want to clean up that trash. I don't mean you any harm... so let's just be adults here...

Crayfish: ....! <some kind of hissing sound?> Kiryu: ...No good. If I reach towards it any further, it will definitely catch me. On the other hand, I can't just leave this garbage here. Kiryu: What can I even do here? <a long moment passes in silence> Kiryu: I've got it. There was some dried squid in the trash I just picked up. I'll use it as bait to draw the crayfish away from here. Kiryu: ........Loook, is this some dried squid? Isn't that tasty? Wouldn't it be nice to eat~?

Crayfish: ............. Kiryu: C'mere, c'mereeee, won't you~? If you won't eat it, maybe I should~? Crayfish: ............. Kiryu: ...No reaction at all. Maybe it's not hungry? (tl note: he's so mad that his plan didn't work)

Kiryu: (If that isn't going to work... Then there's gotta be something else that will guy this guy to move.) Crayfish: ...Shaaa! <more hissing, and it smacks into Kiryu before bouncing back> Kiryu: !?

Crayfish: Munch... munch... Kiryu: I-It... took advantage of my momentary lapse in concentration... It took the squid!? Kiryu: Uchima-san said "there are smart animals around here"... don't tell me... this guy's one of them!!?? (tl note: Kiryu. you may be stupid) Crayfish: Shaaaa! Kiryu: ....Excellent. If a battle of wits is what you want, I'll show you what human intelligence is like...!

<Kiryu ducks down> Kiryu: (...Good, this rock is exactly what I need. Now... Just gotta throw it behind it...) <the rock goes sailing with a comical whistle and a tiny splash> Crayfish: .....! Kiryu: (...Great. Now I can catch it when it's distracted and has its back turned...) Crayfish: .............. Kiryu: ............... Crayfish: .................... Kiryu: (It didn't turn around.....!? Could it be... it read my intentions....?) Crayfish: ............. Kiryu: Actually, where is this guy looking...... It's like there's something behind me..... Crayfish: ....! <another hiss and a slicing sound as Kiryu gets crayfish'd> Kiryu: Guh!

Kiryu: (This guy... the moment I turned my head... it went and pinched me on my damn ass...) Kiryu: (Was its gaze a trap...? Did it read my intentions... and then decide to get revenge?) Kiryu: ...What a clever crayfish. Kiryu: ........ Kiryu: ...Heh, you beat me. I guess I'll give up on those trash bags. <Kiryu leaves> Crayfish: ................... Kiryu: (...But, that was just to make it look that way... The moment it lets its guard down... I'll catch it...!) <Crayfish hisses at Kiryu> Kiryu: .....! Kiryu: Mmm... it feels good to stretch out my arms. This hand would absolutely for certain never ever be trying to catch you~. Crayfish: ........... Kiryu: (Yes, its defenses are down... now!) <The crayfish hisses again> Crayfish: .....! Kiryu: ....! Mmmm... still just stretching out my arms~.

Kiryu: (Damn... It's not turning around yet... what a distrusting creature.) Kiryu: (Yes... now---) <Crayfish hisses again, now with Kiryu much closer> Crayfish: ....! Kiryu: ...Ahhh~. Stretching my arms feels so good~.

Kiryu: (Damn... this guy... How many times is it going to look back here...) Riverside Resident A: ...That person... What's that person doing? Riverside Resident B: It looks like he's playing "Red Light Green Light" with a crayfish... I wonder if that poor guy doesn't have any friends... Kiryu: (...Shit... The stares of passersby are painful...) Kiryu: (I don't think continuing like this is going to get me anywhere... Maybe it's time to abandon this tactic...) Crayfish: ...Shaashaaa.... Kiryu: (It... waved its pincers like a peace sign... Could it be that this is what it wanted?) Kiryu: (In order to humiliate me, did it play along by pretending to be fooled..?) Kiryu: (Just how smart is this thing... and how the hell do I make it leave?) Crayfish: ...Shaaa! <more hissing as it leaps onto Kiryu> Kiryu: !?

Crayfish: Shashaaaa! Kiryu: Guh, this guy... it jumped on me so fast. Kiryu: That was awfully aggressive... I guess you've decided we're total enemies... Crayfish: Sha! .....Shaa? Crayfish: ....Sha!? Sha! Shaaaa! Kiryu: (It... got distracted by a fly... It turned around completely!?) Kiryu: (Heh, no matter how smart it is, in the end it's just an animal... This is my chance... I'm going to catch this thing now!) Kiryu: Haa! <wooshing sound> Crayfish: ....Sha! <slicing sound> Kiryu: Guhh!? Kiryu: (Stupid... I tried to grab hold of its back, but it pinched my hand...) Kiryu: (I was using its blind spot to catch it... how did it know...) Crayfish: Shashashashasha.... Kiryu: Damn... It's doing that gesture again. Kiryu: (You're kidding... was getting distracted by a fly all an act!? Did it use that as a trap so it could attack me when I got near!?) Kiryu: (It's looking down on me... But now I have to admit that it's smart... maybe even smarter than me...) Kiryu: (Even so... there's still a way to do this... there's something in the trash, I'm sure.) Crayfish: Shaaa! <hissing> Crayfish: ....Shaa!? <it falls into the water> Kiryu: ...Wh-! That guy was swinging its arms around as a threat but then... it fell!? Crayfish: Shaa... Shaa... !? Kiryu: And it landed on its back so it seems it can't get back up. Heh, what an unexpectedly stupid move. Kiryu: This time I'm going to catch you...! Haaa! <another whoosh> Crayfish: ...Sha! <a big slicing sound> Kiryu: ...Heh, of course not being able to get back up was an act too. Kiryu: I knew that you'd try to trick me into another attack like that, since you see me as your enemy and look down on me. Kiryu: But... this time I grabbed you not with my bare hands, but with these disposable chopsticks. Kiryu: Bad luck for you. You didn't pinch my finger... just these chopsticks that were thrown in the river! Crayfish: ...!? Kiryu: I'll throw these chopsticks with you still latched on... then I'll be free to finish cleaning up the trash!! Haa!! Crayfish: ...!! Kiryu: (Yes... It's still holding onto the chopsticks...! Take this...!!) <a crunching sound> Kiryu: ....! Crayfish: Sha... Shaaa...! Kiryu: Damn... so the chopsticks were rotten huh... The couldn't withstand the force of the throw and broke...

Kiryu: I was so close to getting this guy out of here... Crayfish: ...Shaa! Kiryu: You're a clever thing, I don't think the same trick will work on you twice. That said, I can't think of any other tricks to try... Kiryu: ...Well, it's fine. I concede. I can't beat you in a battle of wits. Crayfish: Sha? <the music cuts out> Kiryu: ...But, I still have to make this river beautiful. Kiryu: It doesn't matter how many times I get pinched... If I take you head on, I will catch you. Crayfish: ............! Crayfish: Shaaaa!!!!

Kiryu: Haa... Haa... Haa...!

<Kiryu gets close to the crayfish and grabs it> Crayfish: ....!? Kiryu: ...Whew, I finally caught you. Crayfish: Shaaa! Shaaaa! Kiryu: I'm holding you by your back. You can't get me with your pincers anymore. Kiryu: Finally, I can clean up this garbage... Huh? Small Crayfishes: Shashaa! Kiryu: Inside this garbage there's... baby crayfish... wait, are these your children? Crayfish: Shaa! Shaaa! Kiryu: ....I see. You were just trying to protect them. Kiryu: What I saw as a simple convenience store bag full of garbage was a nest you had to protect. Kiryu: ............ <he sets the crayfish down> Crayfish: .....! Kiryu: I'm sorry for causing a disturbance on your turf. Kiryu: I'll tell Uchima-san and the others to leave your garbage alone. Crayfish: ....Shaaa! <fade to black> Haruka: Oh, you're back Uncle Kaz!

Kiryu: ...Yep. I'm home, Haruka. Haruka: You were doing the river clean-up, right? Did you clean a lot? Kiryu: Yes. Though I almost cleaned up too much, and would have taken away an important home for the animals living there... Kiryu: I'm really glad I noticed it soon enough. Haruka: Is that so... I'm glad. You almost became an "invasive species" to that area, Uncle Kaz. Kiryu: ...Invasive species? Haruka: Yep. I learned about it today in science class. Invasive species take away the habitats of the animals who lived there originally. Haruka: That's why it's bad to release non-native species into the wild. Kiryu: ...I see. I don't know much about that, so I'll have to be mindful. Kiryu: By the way, what kinds of non-native species are there? Haruka: Ummm there's... raccoons, and black bass, and snapping turtle, and american bullfrogs... Kiryu: Woah... So even some of the animals we know. Haruka: Oh, and the american crayfish! Kiryu: A... American crayfish!? Haruka: U-Um, yeah. They eat the native species, spread disease, and damage the ecosystem. Kiryu: What the hell... Kiryu: But... It's not like they're trying to cause trouble, right? Kiryu: If you live, you have to eat and you have to get sick... It's not like they can help it if that ends up being an issue. Haruka: ...Wellll... I guess that's true, but...

Kiryu: Besides, I can assuredly say that this one’s devoted to their family. For their family's sake, they had the bravery to stand up to someone bigger than themself. Haruka: ....This one? Kiryu: I don't know if they were male or female, but they were a true man among men. If they were a human, I'd like to share a drink with them... Kiryu: ...I know. Haruka, why don't you come meet them? I'm sure you'll change your mind if you just meet-- Haruka: Uncle Kaz... did something happen with a crayfish?

Bonus stuff:

you don’t understand Haruka the yakuza invasive species are just trying to live their lives the only way they can! and sure they might be destructive but what else can they do? maybe that morally gray father figure crayfish was taking care of orphans!!

#yakuza #rgg #ryu ga gotoku online #Ryu ga Gotoku #like a dragon #Kiryu #Kiryu Kazuma #Haruka #Haruka Sawamura

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inneedofsupervision · 3 months ago

Text

Sweet Tooth

When Eddie came to the park, he would have never guessed he would be home hours later and possibly have found a way to keep his alien symbiote co-inhabitant from needing to eat human brains. Did he find the solution for their rather unconventional diet, or was it just wishful thinking on his part? An idea of how else Venom could get his claws on his all-beloved phenethylamine (without Eddie having to use three cups of mouthwash the next day).

(Read on Ao3)

"Eddie?"

"Hm?"

"We want to eat the tiny humans."

"We've talked about this, V."

Eddie puts his dame on G6.

A good move.

Pleased with his choice, the journalist grabs for the steaming paper cup. A gust of wind blows colored leaves throughout the small park, covering the patches of green and the wet paths. It's rather chilly. A few meters next to him, a family is at a playground, and the three children are screaming and laughing as they run around.

"There is only so much chocolate can do to quell our hunger, Eddie."

"Guess you must stay hungry then, as I won't change my mind about this."

Eddie holds the coffee between both hands, trying to warm his fingers. A low growl rings in the deeper corners of his consciousness, but the man ignores the sounds inside his head. The sun breaks through the clouds, and strays of light fall onto the lithic chess table.

"They are mingy. Who would notice one or two of them missing?"

Eddie shakes his head while Venom's dusky voice speaks inside his mind. He raises the coffee towards his lips as an onyx-colored tentacle slithers from his sleeve. Like a snake, it creeps over the checkered table, its thinning end straightening up only to wind around the head of a pawn. It pulls until the figure has moved onto a black field.

Eddie frowns into his cup.

Checkmate.

"Please, Eddie. I can already feel their small, undeveloped brains melt on my tongue."

A spray of coffee bursts out over the chessboard, followed by violent coughing. Another tentacle emits from Eddie's body, this time out of his shoulder, knocking him on his back while the man is busy trying to get the hot liquid out of his trachea.

"Okay, that's it," Eddie says, still couching, face slowly regaining color.

"Enough fresh air for today. Time to bring you back under lock and key."

"You are a sore loser, Eddie. I won, and as a prize, I will get a snack of my choice~"

Venom almost purrs, his voice rumbling and sending shivers down his host's spine. Eddie shakes his head with a click of his tongue. Living with Venom was like getting a young dog who grew out of the puppy stage. Every rule gets questioned, sometimes several times a day. They have discussed when, where, and who Venom gets to eat. And even these rules have nuances. Lots of them, for the sake of Eddie not being brought behind bars after being linked a little too quickly with another headless body turning up in some dumpster near their neighborhood.

He tries to be understanding.

Eddie is aware of the alien and his needs, knowing there is no way around the Klyntar to consume brains sooner or later, sensing the growing hunger through their bond. But even he runs out of patience, discussing with a tantrum-throwing symbiote why the latter cannot eat children for the second time in thirty minutes.

"This isn't a Subway, Buddy. No snacks to choose from."

The man throws the tissue and empty cup into a garbage bin, shoveling his hands deep into his pockets. It is getting cold pretty fast now.

"Pussy."

"Yeah, yeah. See how you will like it when I freeze to death, and you're just a slimy little blob without a host," grumbles Eddie with a roll of his eyes.

"What did you just call us!?"

"For such a superior form of living, your hearing is quite bad, isn't it?"

"You will take this back, or I will devour your liver. You hear me, Eddie? Painfully and slow, and then I will crack open your head and feast on your brain while keeping you alive as long as possible."

Eddie hums without really paying attention.

"I believe it when I see it."

He wasn't sure when he stopped shaking in fear at the violent threats the alien liked to dish out whenever something didn't go his way. He twitches at the tentacle that pulls at his ear, swatting the offending appendage away.

"Why are you suddenly interested in eating children, anyway?"

Eddie halts in his steps. That sounds messed up. He begins walking again, quickening his pace, and leaves the playground and park behind, ignoring the dark rumble of protests from the alien, who moves restlessly under his skin. He blinks as his hood gets pulled over his head, furrowing his brows before the first raindrops hit the pavement. Venom flutters at the unspoken feeling of gratitude, drinking up the emotion before settling around his neck like a midnight-colored scarf. A small head pokes out from under his hood. Milky eyes stare up at the man. A tongue darts out, licking over the front row of razor-sharp teeth.

"Their brains smell delicious."

Eddie grimaces, not noticing how his expression causes Venom's grin to widen at his obvious distaste.

"Their brains smell delicious?"

He's whispering as he hurries up the stairs to his apartment, preventing his neighbors from thinking he's crazy, more than they already do.

"The quantity of some hormones they produce is beyond what I've experienced from grown humans."

"Maybe because they have more fun than adults?" throws Eddie his thought into the room, pulling his jacket off and dumping it over a chair.

"Aren't you after dopamine and stuff?"

"They certainly have more fun than you."

"Well, being an adult isn't all pleasure and enjoyment, V. We can't all be playing around and eating chocolate the whole day," counters Eddie lightheartedly as he opens his laptop. He rubs a hand over his face with a sigh, the half-finished article plopping out like a silent warning. How could Eddie possibly have fun running late on a deadline? Glancing at his notebook, he skims over the information he gathered before his eyes flick back to the screen. His fingers hover motionless over the keyboard, and the seconds pass while Eddie stares at the document. With a deep sigh, he pushes the chair back and stands up.

"You have never produced such an amount of tasty hormones, Eddie."

He shudders when the alien roams around inside of him, not even trying to be inconspicuous about it.

"What are you doing there, Buddy?"

Eddie gulps slightly, the hairs on his whole body straightening up. It feels like his organs are flipped over like stones on a beach to glance under them to see if something of interest hides under them. Venom seems to work his way from his legs upwards until Eddie panics. He can feel Venom coming straight toward his head, and although he is well aware that Venom is always in his head, the thought of the Symbiote searching for something in there leaves him a little panicked.

"V?"

His voice cracks, and he coughs to overplay his embarrassment, but his nervousness doesn't lessen as he doesn't receive an answer from the Symbiote.

"Venom?"

The movement doesn't stop, passing his lungs and working its way up his esophagus. When reaching past the Adam's apple, Eddie feels fear creeping up.

"Venom, stop!"

"What?"

Eddie jumps, the back of his knees hitting the couch and sending him falling onto it as Venom's head pops out of his chest to look at him.

"Christ, give a guy some warning next time. What are you even doing?"

"Checking you out, Eddie."

Eddie cannot hold back a laugh at that.

"I'm sure that's not what you mean. What exactly are you checking for?"

The serpent-like head tilts slightly.

"You don't produce as much hormones as the tiny humans. I had to check if your organs are defective."

Eddie raises an eyebrow. He was pretty sure his organs were okay. Deciding to humor his friend, he folds his hands together and leans forward.

"And, what are your results, Doc?"

White eyes narrow at the title. The head wanders up and down, and Eddie feels the rest of Venom shifting under his skin, reaching out into every cell of his body. The feeling stops soon, and Venom licks his teeth again, reminding the human of a snake tasting the air.

"You are not dying."

Eddie huffs and lets himself fall back onto the couch.

"Thanks, pal. I haven't been worried about that until now. What hormones are we talking about, though?"

Venom's head bends down. His eyes scrutinize the human while searching for sarcasm. Seeing his host being serious about the question, he straightens up, hovering over the man.

"Adrenalin, dopamine, phenethylamine."

A sudden thought overcame him.

"Does that mean you scuff down brains for neurotransmitters inside?"

"And because they taste good."

The reporter scoots to the side to avoid getting hit by the to-the-ground-extending string of saliva running down from a corner of Venom's mouth. Eddie observes with a pinched expression how the string wanders until it hits the floor.

Great.

Now, he can mope the apartment. Eddie shakes his head. Now wasn't the time to think about salvia on the floor. Not after Venom revealed a particular detail of his rather unconventional diet.

"You mentioned feeding off my body before, right?"

The Symbiote's eyes narrow dangerously, and a low growl emits deep within his throat.

"I had no choice, Eddie. We were dying."

Eddie raises his arms in a placating and protective manner, not that it would be much use if Venom decided to jump him for the question. Their first meeting was still a touchy subject. Eddie smiles gently, his voice calm. If he had learned something, it was to not engage in Venom's open provocation if you like not getting your nose broken and healed, only to get it broken again. The handling of Venom called for more finesse as with any other human Eddie had contact with before in his life.

"That wasn't an accusation, V. Just a question."

The hollow snarling ebbs away, and Eddie feels a sigh of relief climbing up his throat. He could do without an angered Venom.

"If my brain produced more hormones, would that mean you need to eat less brains?"

Venom's serpentine head sways back and forth. Eddie watches, slightly fascinated and a little amused, how the tar-colored skin of the Klyntar tightens above the milky-white eyes, a grotesque imitation of a frown.

"It could."

"It could?"

Eddie had hoped for a more profound answer. The less brains he, or rather Venom, had to consume, the better. He really could do without their choice of midnight snacks, and even when the humans they chose were the worst of the worst, there were days Eddie couldn't cope with the thought of having devoured another human.

"You humans all produce different amounts of hormones. It depends on what your tiny brain can offer me, Eddie."

The smile on the reporter's face vanishes to be replaced by a scowl.

"My tiny brain? What does that mean? You know what, it's none of my business. Let's forget about the whole thing."

Eddie crosses his arms in front of his chest. He could not be bothered, continuing to talk about brains and hormones. Venom seems to pick up on his host's change of heart, the black head tilting to the side questioningly.

"Eddie, are you pouting?"

Not in the mood to answer, Eddie averts, hand reaching out of his smartphone to direct his attention to what his oh-so-small and silly brain could rather deal with. Before his fingers could touch the device, a thin tentacle curls around his wrist, successfully pulling his arm back.

The man rolls his eyes. With an exasperated sigh, he focuses on Venom.

"Let go of my arm, V."

The tentacle slithered back, and all hairs on his skin straightened as Venom moved. The Klyntar's head grows, and the part one could call a neck thickens rapidly. In less than a few seconds, Venom has almost entirely built up in front of the human, his massive upper body towering over him.

The pale pink tongue flicked out of his mouth, licking along the row of razor-sharp teeth, accompanied by a hiss.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" commented Eddie dryly. He was too pissed off to be impressed.

The Symbiote bends forward, their foreheads apart by a hair.

"You ever heard of personal space, big guy? Because you're stepping into mine. A little distance would be very much appreciated."

"I am inside you, Eddie. Your personal space belongs to me."

Eddie stares at Venom, and his lips move, but without a sound passing. For the first time today, the man was rendered speechless. Venom continues sizing his host up, tongue flicking through the air.

"Okay. That's a topic for another day," mumbles the man.

"Eddie."

"You like what you see?" jokes the reporter in an attempt to pass off his insecurity. Venom's white eyes lock on him, like a predator targeting its prey. A nervousness flickers somewhere in his stomach area. He had to break the eye contact with the alien manifesting out of his body. His gaze involuntarily moves downwards, Adam's apple setting in motion as they catch sight of the Symbiot's teeth.

One bite and everything would be over.

A hint of anxiety rolls over him as claws settle on either side of his shoulders against the couch, efficiently caging the man and robbing him of any way to escape. Not as if he had a chance, fleeing from an alien that nested inside every cell of his body.

“Good, but not quite what we wanted.”

Eddie's head snaps up, goosebumps spreading across his skin as Venom's voice rings in his head.

“Not the same as the little humans in the park. A certain something is missing.”

Eddie's face hardens as he finally catches on.

“You stupid bastard!” the reporter roars, any fear and panic he had felt replaced by anger and a pinch of shame.

“You scared me on purpose!"

He growls, pointing a finger at the Sybiote, anger burning in his eyes.

"I hope you had fun, 'cause that was the last time. You pull a stunt like this once more, and I swear to God, I'm going to march right up to our neighbor asking for a fucking private concert and turn the volume as high as possible. Then I'm going to collect your gooey alien ass in a jam jar and throw it out into the trash, you heard me?"

It takes a lot for Eddie Brock to lose his temper. His life had been turbulent ever since the thing with the Life Foundation began, and at some point, he began to grow blunt, not getting bothered as quickly as before. Few things get under the reporter's skin, having seen so much.

This time, Venom had pushed it too far.

Eddie tries hard to adjust to living with his Symbiote. He does his best catering to Venom's unusual needs, and how does that damned parasite thank him? Spooking Eddie out of his mind and causing his brain to kick into overdrive to feast on the adrenaline produced as the fear kicked in and, to put a cheery on top, making fun of him. Something in Eddie's voice or even inside his head must have shown how angry and betrayed he felt cause instead of retaliating with a biting remark or a threatening growl, Venom kept silent.

"What? Cat got your tongue? Nothing that the big bad alien wants to say?"

"I am sorry, Eddie."

"I hope you are."

The claws next to his shoulder retreat to offer his host some space. Eddie takes a deep breath, eyes averted from the Sybiote. He had to calm down. Getting angry isn't the solution. The blond already feels shame and guilt, not proud of how he has reacted.

With a sigh, he let a hand run over his face before glancing at Venom.

"I'm sorry too, Buddy."

The Symbiote tilts his head, white eyes narrow as he scrutinizes the human on the couch.

"I overreacted. I won't throw you into the trash."

"I doubt you would have managed. With your measly arms and puny muscles."

While speaking, a tentacle wraps around Eddie's upper body, slithering until it winds around his right arm and squeezing softly to undermine his words.

The corner of Eddie's mouth pulls upwards.

"Asshole."

He gives Venom's chest a playful shove.

Venom's teeth flash as his mouth pulls into an eerie smirk. A tentacle emanates out of his chest where Eddie had touched him and thrusts the human to the side, knocking him with his back onto the couch. Before he could sit up, Venom positioned himself over him, seizing his arms faster than Eddie could mouth "stop" and pushing them next to the side of his head.

"As I said. Puny."

A playful twinkle flickers in the milky white of Venom's eyes, and Eddie rolls his eyes at the smug tone.

"Hardy har. Just wait till I get out of here. I'm going to kick your gooey ass."

"Really? That I would like to witness."

Eddie narrows his eyes, provoked by the words. He tries hard, putting all his strength into his arms, and pushes to get off the couch. To his surprise, Eddie manages to gain space, almost having sat back up when the tentacle from before appears in front of his face. With a frown, the man observes the appendage hover as he pushes forward. Just before he was sitting straight, the tentacle came closer and gently shoved his forehead. Eddie stills, bemused at the action as the tentacle draws closer again, but this time, the push is much stronger. With a shout of surprise, he is back to stare at the ceiling.

"You didn't pay attention," purrs Venom, voice thick with amusement. The tentacle that had pushed him patted his cheek playfully.

"You cheated!" protests Eddie with a laugh, biting at the tentacle. The appendage raises and avoids his attack, only to pinch the tip of Eddie's nose. Venom grins down at the human.

"Even without holding you down, you would be at my mercy, Eddie. Give up."

"You can forget that."

His arms are released. Instead, Venom leans further down, threatening to bury Eddie under his black mass.

"Wait, you don't have to push it, V."

Despite his words of protest, Eddie laughed, knowing Venom wouldn't hurt him.

"Eddie?"

"What?"

Venom straightens and gazes down at the smiling human below. The Symbiote tilts his head, eying his host with growing interest. Eddie raises an eyebrow.

"What's wrong?"

A low purr fills the room from deep within Venom's chest. The Symbiote licks his teeth.

"I want more."

Eddie looks at him questioningly, hands still on Venom's body. The alien runs hotter than he had expected.

"More? More of what exactly?"

Venom bends down until his face hovers only inches apart from his host.

"Hormones, Eddie," Venom's tongue darts out, tasting the air. "You smell almost as tasty as the tiny humans."

Eddie blinks, not having expected that answer.

"Oh," was all he could bring out before a sudden thought occurred, causing warmth to build up inside him. The tips of his ears turn red.

"Eddie, you don't have to be embarrassed. You can admit to having fun."

"Shut your mouth," grumbles the human, red-faced. Gosh, he had fun playing around with Venom like a little kid. He coughs, embarrassed.

"Okay, it's time to stop. Come on, big guy. Let me up."

Venom didn't think about letting his human go. Especially not after Eddie's brain had just begun producing an exquisite cocktail of hormones.

"Explain to me, Eddie, what else is fun to you? Apart from being proven how frail you humans are?"

He looks down at Eddie, who still has being embarrassed written all over his features. Venom does not comprehend why his human felt the need to be ashamed for having fun, but there are many instances in which he doesn't understand Eddie. He might find out someday. But, at the moment, that doesn't interest Venom as he has more pressing matters to care for.

Eddie jumps as something slides under his sleeve. He glances at his arm. One of Venom's tentacles winds around his wrists. It was nothing unusual. Venom tends to appear at random times and slither over his skin. He never got an explanation why the alien did it, and Eddie had dismissed it as one of the Klyntar's quirks and left it at that. The tentacle wanders around but is not purposeful like the other times. It felt as if it was searching for something.

"Ehm, V? Care to explain?" asks the man, nodding towards his arm.

"I don't understand it, Eddie," growls Venom, eyes dangerously narrowed, his voice rumbling deep through Eddie's body. The Symbiote eyes him with his head tilted, face pulled into a scowl. Venom seems genuinely confused, and even if Eddie found it slightly amusing to see the other planless, he felt a little pity for the Klyntar.

"What's going on, Buddy? Come on, talk to me. Maybe we can figure it out together."

"I'm mimicking what the tiny humans did, but you are not reacting. Your body is fully functional, and your brain is not defective."

The reporter blinks, thrown off for a moment.

"Okay, about what exactly are we talking here?"

"The tiny humans in the park, they did something which spiked their hormones, but when I do it to you, you are not reacting."

It is Eddies turn to tilt his head in question. "I can't follow, Buddy. Maybe you can describe what the children did?"

Venom growls, a sign of him growing frustrated, but still describes what he had witnessed.

"They touched each other," the tentacle that had winded its way around Eddie Arm travels over his shirt towards the middle of his body before hovering over his stomach. "Here. And then they began laughing."

It takes a moment before it finally clicks.

"I see. Now I know what you are talking about, V," says Eddie with an amused laugh.

"They probably tickled each other."

"Tickled?"

The way Klyntar emphasized the word shows that he had never heard it before.

"The action itself is tickling, and someone who gets tickled and is affected is called ticklish."

"And if someone gets tickled, they laugh?"

Eddie nods, quite proud of how quickly Venom caught on. The Symbiote got quicker with how things on Earth worked every day.

"It's an involuntary reaction of our body towards a certain kind of touch," he continues explaining.

"There are only guesses why one has to laugh when being tickled. Most believe it to be a defensive reaction. Most people are ticklish at parts of the body that need the most protection, for example, the stomach, under the arms, and the neck, but there are more. Where and how ticklish someone is differs from person to person."

"It can't hurt you?"

"Not really. If one overdoes it, it can turn unpleasant quickly. It is still an involuntary reaction. Therefore, one must pay attention to the reaction of the opposite and slow down or stop, not to overwhelm."

"Are you ticklish, Eddie?"

Oh.

That went very wrong, very fast.

"Like you just saw, I'm not ticklish," explains Eddie slowly, praying Venom's previous failure to tickle his arm suffice to prevent the alien from trying again.

"You are not lying to me, are you, Eddie? I should try again, to be sure."

The man swallows nervously.

"Congratulations, Eddie. You just created a monster. Okay. There's no reason to panic. If you manage to stay quiet, he gets bored sooner or later. Hopefully sooner."

He barely conceals a squeak as something pulls at his wrist. With growing horror, he observes the man how a set of black tentacles wrung around his wrist and painfully slowly pulls them over his head.

"It's easier getting your underarms this way."

A single sentence is enough to make something in his stomach coil. His underarms are ticklish. Very much.

He won't withstand this.

"Why are you nervous, Eddie? You have no reason to unless you were lying."

Venom looks at him, teeth pulled into a giant grin. White eyes scan the human stretched out and open for him to test this newfound knowledge. A cold shiver runs down Eddie's spine. Hopefully, Venom does not pay this reaction to his body and mind. He didn't like the wolfish grin the Symbiote gave him, as if he had trouble choosing which part to begin with.

"Venom, I told you that doesn't work on me. Come on, leave me go, and we can get dinner, alright? We get some pizza, and afterward, you can eat the rest of the chocolate we got you yesterday. What do you say?"

Venom didn't even look like he considered the offer.

"I think I will begin with your stomach."

Eddie licks his chapped lips, franticly thinking about what else he could say to dissuade the Symbiote of his schemes. His eyes observe with growing dread how several tentacles arise out of Venom's chest. The midnight black appendages wind and crank as if possessed. They find their way over his upper body, and Eddie cannot keep his eyes off them.

A pull and prickle spread in his stomach region, and his jaw clenches as he tries to keep a straight face. A hardly noticeable flinch passes his body as the first tentacle reaches its goal. Without waiting, it begins to creep over his shirt from one side to the other.

Eddie shut his eyes tightly, preparing mentally not to let a single noise leave his mouth. One sound, and he wouldn't survive the evening. With bated breath, the man lets the wandering of the tentacles fare. The seconds tick by, and Eddie lies tensed up on the couch until a sudden thought crosses his mind while a tentacle glides over his collarbone.

Venom's touch doesn't tickle.

The reporter dares to open a single eye to peek at Venom. The alien's appendages slide over his body, sometimes adding little pressure. The careful movements remind him of a scan to check for injuries.

He was nearly about to laugh.

How in the world would an alien know how to tickle someone? Eddie wants to shake his head. He had worried for nothing. Of course, Venom could not understand he had to lessen his touch or get firmer with it. His pullover also protected him. He didn't want to know how bad those tentacles would feel on bare skin. Eddies muscles relax. With a relieved sigh, he melts into the couch.

"Bare skin and less pressure, you say?"

"Fuck!"

"Oh, Eddie."

Their eyes meet while a new tentacle grows off the Symbiote's chest. The appendage pats Eddie's cheek teasingly.

"Did you forget? Every single thought, every reaction of our body, everything that happens within you, Eddie, I know it. And now, let's see how good this "tickling" works on you, now that I know what to do, thanks to you."

Goosebumps spread over his skin as his pullover gets pushed upwards. The hold on his wrist loosens, and before he can react, the pullover is pulled over his head and dangles from Venom's claw.

"You don't need this now."

With those words, the Symbiote throws the article of clothing over his shoulder.

"Hey!" protests Eddie and moves his head to see where his clothes end up. He gets pulled out of his endeavors as the black extremities once again begin moving over his upper body. At no other moment did Eddie wish Venom didn't listen to his words and thoughts, as he did at this very moment. The tension that left his body moments before is back tenfold. With tightly shut eyes and lips, Eddie tries desperately, not paying attention to the feather-light touches all over his stomach.

This time, Venom's touch does tickle.

And how much it tickles.

The goosebump grows as the heads of the tentacles slide dangerously close along his belly button, over his waistline and hipbones. Eddie couldn't hold back a small whimper as one of the appendages moved further towards his left side than the others. The light touches between his lower rip and his hips are simply unbearable.

"Got you."

"Fuck!"

The tentacles retreat from the middle of his torso to simultaneously commit to tickling up and down his sides. Two of them on each side slide with silky touches over his skin, and Eddie can't hold back the gigantic grin that is about to split his face in half.

"You're smiling a lot for something that's not funny to you, Eddie."

Instead of answering, Eddie can only give a choked giggle, which he quickly tries overplaying by hiding his reddened face in the crook of his arm. Meanwhile, Venom's limbs are traveling. Two are still paying attention to his sides, which leaves every hair on his body standing straight, while the others are moving upwards.

Eddie could only pray that Venom would keep it at the light touches. If the Symbiote decides to tickle his rips earnestly, he will break like a dried-up stick.

"Breaking? I would like to see that."

Eddie, you dumb idiot!

"It's part of your charm, Eddie."

Venom grins down at him with a sly smirk. The tentacles have reached his ribs, and as one of them calculatedly pokes between the bones, Eddie cannot hold back. With a jump, a little shout of surprise leaves his mouth. Venom's eyes narrow, his monstrous grin fills his face from one side to the other, and Eddie knows there is no way out now.

Before he could protest, plead, or swear at the Klyntar, more than ten tentacles began poking into his rips from all sides at once. Eddie knows he won't be able to handle it anymore. Having lost the charge over his reactions, he cannot stop twisting and turning in the hold as if every poke seems to shoot an electric pulse through his body.

"V-Venom, stop it!"

But the alien doesn't even think about stopping now.

With growing amusement, he observes his host squirming under him. He had never seen the man show this kind of reaction before. Venom could manipulate Eddie if he wanted to, making him do whatever he deemed fit, but the Klyntar detests this kind of symbiosis. This "tickling", causing the man under him to lose control over his body without Venom needing to do anything but touch his skin, was fun. With fascination watches the alien, the crow's feet dancing around the corner of Eddie's eyes. But the Symbiote was not satisfied. As fun as Eddie's weird dance on the couch was, it isn't how the little humans have reacted to the "tickling." His host did make peculiar noises, but the laughing was still missing.

But the answer to archiving that reaction lies right inside Eddie's head. Like a sponge, Venom absorbs every tidbit of information. Every thought, every reaction, whatever gets him closer to achieving his goal is soaked up.

The Klyntar observes Eddie before he lets two of his tentacles change their form. Carefully, to avoid nipping the sensible skin, Venom puts his newly formed claws around Eddie's waist. The thumbs are pressing into the sides of the toned stomach, the rest of his fingers hovering in the small of Eddies back. He seems to do something right as Eddie's brain, after registering the new touch and the position of Venom's claws on his body, releases adrenaline, and his heart rate spikes.

"This is a good spot, right? Is it a place you are ticklish at, Eddie?"

Eddie opens his mouth, but to his horror, nothing but boisterous laughter comes out as Venom uses that exact moment to start squeezing.

The man's hips buck upwards, unable to withstand the urge to escape from the touch, and Eddie throws his body from left to right when Venom won't stop the rapid succession of squeezes. The asshole varies the strength behind each squeeze to keep him guessing, and it drives Eddie mad.

"You bastard! Stohohohop it, dahamn it!"

But Venom doesn't think about stopping. He finally did it.

Eddie squirms madly in the Symbiote's hold, Venom's thumbs massaging the sides of his stomach while his fingers dub into his back. Until now, Eddie didn't even know any part of his back was ticklish. What makes him the most nervous is how Venom gets better at tickling with every ongoing moment. The clumsy movements begin to gain precision, and simple pokes give way to kneading and squeezing at spots like his ribs and hip bones, leaving him squirming pathetically in the hold.

A few tentacles wander back towards where it all began, and instead of stroking over his stomach, they use a bit more pressure, which turns out to be very effective.

"Fuhuhuck, nohot there! Oh good, noho! Pl-please, Venom!"

"Your tummy is ticklish, after all. It's fascinating how such small touches can render you defenseless. You humans are so pathetically fragile that even touches as soft as this can defeat you."

"You reahahally knohow how toho strohoke a mahans ego, Venom."

"Your frail ego doesn't matter to me, Eddie. I'd rather stroke your sides. That's much more amusing."

An honest-to-god squeal escapes Eddie as Venom does, just as he said.

"Are all of you humans this ticklish, or is that just you, Eddie?" purrs Venom, licking his teeth hungrily as a flood of delicious hormones floods the man's brain. His human windes and writhes under Venom's tentacles, stroking up and down his sides.

"Shuhut up. St-stahap teahasing me, you asshole!"

"But your brain reacts so well to them, Eddie."

"I said to keep quiet!"

"Why, Eddie? Does it tickle more when I ask you how ticklish you are while searching for more of your most ticklish spots to tickle you? Does that make it tickle worse?"

He watches with amusement at Eddie's face and neck, reddening at his voice. The man tries hiding his face in his arm, clearly embarrassed but still laughing even when Venom lessens the tickling to teasing strokes.

Eddie finally regains his breath, glaring up at Venom as he fights the heat in his face. God, he cannot believe the damn alien could make him this flustered by tickling him.

"Fuck you, you sadistic parasite."

Venom's eyes narrow dangerously. The reporter's eyes open wide, and panic grows inside him as he watches with fear how a bunch of tentacles approach his defenseless armpits.

"Venom, buddy, let's talk about this, okay? I didn't mean that. It was a slip of the tongue."

Despite his fear of what lay ahead, Eddie couldn't discard the silly grin about to split his face. He looks like a madman trying to keep the corner of his mouth down, only for them to twitch back into a smile, anticipation coiling inside his chest.

With a playful growl, Venom let his appendages strike forward, attacking the open laying underarms.

A shout leaves Eddie's lips before the man shakes his head left and right, messing his short hair up even more while roaring with laughter. Venom had formed another pair of claws, thumbs digging into the muscle under the armpit while the rest teased the middle of both sides, driving the man up the wall. It tickles like mad, and Eddie is thoroughly helpless. He's unable to do anything but pull at his arms. Eddie arches his back and throws his body around, but Venom shows no mercy. While the man twists and turns, laughing his head off, several more tentacles manifest out of Venom's body to teach the human a lesson he wouldn't forget so soon. The tentacles grab him around the middle, turning into a wide belt-like construction that relentlessly massages his bottom rib, sides, stomach, and lower back. Single tentacles use every free patch of skin they can find to prod, poke, and scribble away. Two thicker appendages have wrapped around Eddie's thighs, keeping him from thrusting his hips as another pair of claws take care of his hip bones.

Every time Eddie jumps, shrieks, or squeals, several tentacles are determined to find the cause and make him repeat that reaction.

Eddie is in stitches.

His body moves constantly, winding from side to side. Whatever he tries, he cannot escape the maddening sensations.

The worst of it all, despite his body's desperate attempts to make it stop, a tiny part of Eddie's mind asks when it was the last time he had laughed this much and so heartily. Not a second later, Eddie nearly choked as he realized what he had just thought of, appalled by what would happen if Venom caught wind of him subconsciously having fun while being tickled to pieces by the Symbiote. He would die out of embarrassment.

"I DIHIHIND'T MEAHAN IHIT LIKE THAT! PLEASE STAHAHAP!"

"You are a terrible liar. I will make you pay for calling us a parasite!"

"PLEASEHE VENAHAM! YOU'RE KIHIHILLING MEHEH!"

"I would never let you die, Eddie."

"IHIHI SUHURE DOESOHON'T FEHEHELL LIKE THAHAT!"

Taking in the dark red of the man's face and the tears sparkling in Eddie's eyes, the Klyntar tunes it down. He keeps the human in place. He's still teasing him by letting appendages run up and down his armpits. He also pays special attention to the human's sensitive sides, as well as his neck, causing Eddie to giggle like a maniac.

"Lehet me go. Pl-pleahahse V. I'm tirehehed."

Reculantly, the Symbiote draws his appendages back. Still hovering over the man, Venom watches with a smirk how Eddie curls together, a few giggles escaping him as he tiredly wipes tears out of the corner of his eyes.

"That was tasty."

Eddie let his head fall back, glaring up at Venom but looking so out of it that the alien almost felt sorry for overdoing it. If Eddie hadn't called him a parasite, he might have let up sooner. Eddie had to stop provoking him. Silly human.

"You're telling me it worked?"

Eddie huffs and runs a hand through his messed-up hair.

Venom grins down at him, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"We should repeat that. Almost as good as eating brains."

"Torturing me? You can forget that right now."

"Don't be like that, Eddie. You had fun. I saw and felt it."

"Oh, leave me alone, you ass."

"There's no need to be embarrass-. You threw a pillow at me!?"

"I said leave it."

"I see. You are begging for a second round."

"Venom, stop it. Put your freaking tentacles away! Pleahase, Ve. Nohot agahahain!"

#tickling #venom tickle fic #ticklish! eddie brock #lee! eddie brock #ler! vernom #tickle fic #marvel tickle fic #marvel #venom #eddie brock

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baronessvonglitter · 2 months ago

Text

The Haunting of David York

Dave York x ghost!reader

Word count: 2.6K

Summary: It's a typical Halloween night for Dave. The last thing he expects is for you to come back and get your revenge.

(Spoilers below the cut, so resume with caution)

WARNINGS: Rated M; Dead Dove Do Not Eat; mentions of wet work, murder, brief gore, threats of violence towards family, major character death (don't hit me)

Author's Note: this fic is for @mermaidgirl30 Jamie's Halloween Writing Challenge 👻 thank you for hosting this lovely fic challenge!

The idea for this started out as a random discussion about why we're afraid of ghosts if they can't really hurt anyone.. then I wanted to add our favorite suburban murder daddy to a ghost story and got some inspo from watching old school stuff like Creepshow and early seasons of AHS. (I haven't written horror in a very long time, so gimme a little break)

Shoutout to @yorksgirl for the Dave chit chats-- there will be a sweatpants scene in another fic, promise!

"Dave, not again!" Carol whines from the front steps.

"What?" he asks innocently, hefting the human-sized 'body bag' consisting of garbage bags stuffed with leaves and tied up with duct tape to fashion a corpse decoration in the yard for Halloween. Dave has been working on them all day. He's now up to seventeen.

"The HOA is going to complain," his wife shakes her head. "We got away with a warning last year. This time they'll definitely fine us."

"It's worth it to see the looks on everyone's faces," he insists. "Besides, I'll have them picked up and out of sight by the end of the night. I promise."

Dave doesn't love Halloween, but neither does he mind it. People dressing up to be anything other than themselves for one night only? Try doing that 24/7.

He doesn't get to parade around the Mr. Hyde aspect of his life. He doesn't get to knock on doors while in tactical gear, sniper rifle resting in one arm while he sticks an orange jack-o-lantern bucket out to get a handful of tooth-rotting sweets. He doesn't get to wake up on November first and pretend it was all for fun.

It's a silly holiday, but he likes scaring the shit out of the neighbors with the decorations. And his kids love planning their costumes months in advance. Alice is going as a zombie cheerleader (he never understands where these ideas come from) and Molly is some type of Pokemon Dave thinks is a squirrel but she insists is something called an Evoo or Evie or something completely asinine.

Carol usually insists on taking them out trick-or-treating, dressing up herself in a last-minute Minnie Mouse getup, a red sweater and black leggings, and a headband with sequined mouse ears to complete the look.

"You'll be okay here by yourself?" she asks, putting the finishing touches on her mouse whiskers and nose with liquid eye liner in the hall mirror as the girls wait impatiently to leave.

She asks that every year, as if something bad will happen on his watch, as if he can't hack it alone for a couple of hours.

"Unless Michael Myers or Pennywise show up, I'm pretty sure I'll be fine," he says, giving the girls a quick kiss before they go.

"What's Pennywise?" Alice asks as Carol herds them out the door, and she shoots her husband an annoyed glance.

There aren't as many trick-or-treaters this year, and Dave regrets that he'd bought so much candy. He dips his hand into the large tub of mini chocolate bars and fruit-flavored chews that stick to one's teeth and selects some Nerds, eating them straight from the tiny box. With barely concealed disgust he finds the candy corn, plucking the small packets of the hated sweets out from the bowl. He doesn't know how anyone can eat these. These can go to the next kids who ring the doorbell. When the next round of costumed kids come around he gives out huge handfuls. The less sweets they have in the house, the less sugar-fueled meltdowns he's likely to experience from his kiddos.

When there's more of a lull he relaxes on the sofa, mindlessly unwrapping a chocolate bar as the Halloween song hums from the TV, The Nightmare Before Christmas playing where the girls had left it on:

Boys and girls of every age wouldn't you like to see something strange? come with us and you will see this, our town of Halloween

He finds his glass of Macallan pairs nicely with a mini Hershey's Special Dark chocolate that he knows the little trick-or-treaters won't appreciate. The candy rests on his tongue as he savors the lingering taste of the scotch while the movie keeps playing. He absorbs a little of it, a now thirty-year-old film that came out when he was his kids' age. He watches idly, letting the scotch lull him into a nice semi-rest.

This is Halloween, this is Halloween pumpkins scream in the dead of night this is Halloween, everybody make a scene trick or treat, 'til the neighbors gonna die of fright

Enough of the singing. He changes the channel. There's postseason baseball on TV, but his favorite team isn't in the playoffs, and the announcers are annoying. Click. Of course there's a horror marathon on every channel. All the Scream movies, which he can appreciate for their ingenuity, Psycho, Shaun of the Dead, the entire Friday the 13th franchise even though it's Thursday, the 31st.

He flips channels, mindlessly, watching tidbits of each, digging into the leftover candy once again when he hears a thud.

With feline alertness he mutes the TV and sits up straight in one swift move. He zones in on where the sound came from, waiting, his racing heart the most audible sound in his ears.

Most people listen for a sound and relax when they don't hear it again, chalking it up to the house settling, or a rodent in the attic. But Dave knows better. He's been on the opposite side of this type of situation countless times. He doesn't relax and just chalk it up to mundane things like other people, because he knows there are guys like him out there-- becoming one with the shadows, as silent as possible--

It's coming from the back door.

In stealth mode, he grabs his gun from the safe in his study and quickly, skillfully, loads it. Adrenaline sings in his veins, carries him towards the danger. He flips on the light switch for the patio and the lights glare into the dark, lighting up nothing. His gun is still in his hand as he slowly opens the door, listening for footsteps.

Quiet.

A little disappointed that he's gotten riled up for no reason, he sighs as the rush of adrenaline dissipates and leaves him weak for a brief moment.

He keeps the gun in the holster at his side as he returns to the sofa, a little more on edge. It could be just teenage assholes playing pranks out of boredom, but he doesn't want to risk it.

He shuts the TV off and the silence becomes the largest thing in the room, even louder than his thoughts. He's taut as wire, not allowing himself to relax just yet. He's listening for more sounds. Most are explainable: a slow drip in the kitchen sink that Carol told him about just yesterday, the notification pings on his daughter's tablet that she left on the dining room table.

"Fuck!" he curses in surprise as the TV turns on, The Nightmare Before Christmas still playing where it left off:

I am the one hiding under your bed, teeth ground sharp and eyes glowing red I am the one hiding under your stairs fingers like snakes and spiders in my hair

Dave quickly snaps the TV off, removing the batteries from the remote.

It's just some electrical glitch he tells himself. And then the power goes out completely.

"Shit," he mutters, using his phone to light the way to locate the real flashlight. It's not in the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink where it's supposed to be left. Carol must have moved it. He checks the garage. Through the windows he can see the neighbors still have power, so he grabs the trusty flashlight and checks the breaker box. After fiddling with it, it won't reset. The flips do absolutely nothing.

Heaving a frustrated sigh, he pinches the bridge of his nose, taking out his phone from his pocket. The battery shows 1% before fizzling out to a black screen with the gray spinning wheel before dying.

"You've got to be shitting me," he grumbles. With another curse, he shoves the useless thing back in his pocket, letting the flashlight guide him out of the garage. He may as well get the keys and go try to find Carol and the girls, who are probably several blocks over by now, maybe get them to stay at her mother's place while he gets things sorted out with the power issue.

And then..

he hears the sound of his name spoken, a sharp. accusatory whisper, as if it's right next to him. It's so real he can feel the cold breath against his ear. It makes him jump out of his skin.

Alert, his body tense and ready for action, his eyes dart around the room as he begins to get his bearings back and his heart goes back to its normal rhythm.

Stupid.. he curses himself, sitting upright again. Annoyance colors his face.

But the sound of it.. of your voice still rings in his ear. And he'd know your voice among a thousand others.

Now he knows he's imagining things, because it couldn't have been your voice at all.

You're dead.

He doesn't want to think about that day, a cold autumn day just like this. In fact it'll be one year exactly on November 14th. The last day you saw sunlight, the last day you ever breathed.

It's not that you were bad, you were just in the way. There was no room for you in Dave's perfect, clock-precision life. He tried to make your end painless, make sure you didn't see it coming.

Some secrets don't stay buried forever..

Nobody knows he assures himself. It's impossible.. He'd even kept it from his teammates, and they knew nearly every damn thing about him.

No, this particular job.. the handling of you, had to be done on his own.

Casting a glance at the backyard patio again, the light from his neighbor's back porch glows eerily, spotlighting the patch of earth Dave had avoided until finally he'd caved and erected a bird bath with a small garden, a surprise for Carol's birthday. His wife never suspected that you were buried there, beneath her gift.

Without thinking, he's already walking outside, gun in one hand, flashlight in the other, leading the way to your grave. He never comes out here anymore. The guilt has become too crushing and he's not a man who dwells on guilt. He does what he has to and revisits the issue if problems arise.

You won't arise, though. When he closes his eyes he can still see the bullet hole in your temple, the blank look as the light left your eyes.

Forgive me, he'd thought, unable to speak it aloud as he stuffed your body in a bag and placed you in the dirt on a moonless autumn night.

When he reaches the stone path that leads to your innocent-looking grave marker, he has to process what he sees:

there's a hole in the ground, where some of the rocks and flowers around the bird bath have been upheaved, and in the breeze his flashlight shines on a tattered, empty black body bag. The scent of death greets his nostrils as he pales, trying not to vomit.

He goes back to the house, immediately on the defensive, irrationally expecting to find you there, clothes dirty and hair caked with mud and blood, a specter of his own paranoia and guilt.

It's still shrouded in darkness, the home that is supposed to be his shelter from such dark things as yourself. It's his domain, his castle, and in this trouble, without his family, he feels like less of a king.

"There's no fucking way," he mutters, stomach roiling with fear and suspicion. He opens the patio door and steps inside.

The whole place smells of death, of the grave.

You're in every corner, quiet, waiting, watching. But not impassive.

He feels you everywhere, himself made small by your ubiquitous pall. The gun in his hand feels useless, and this makes him angry.

You feed off his anger. You love it. It's the only thing you can feel anymore. Pure, unadulterated hate.

You slither towards him, wicked grin growing bigger as you approach him. Dave gets the chills down his back, not knowing just how close you are to him.

"Boo" you whisper lightly, ghostly breath caressing the shell of his ear.

Your cackling thunders in his ears as he whips around, eyes wide with fright. You delight in the fear he's giving off. The scent of it it so intoxicating. It's the only good thing about being dead.

"I should make your death as nice and quick and clean as you made mine" your voice echoes all around the room. Dave looks equal parts pissed and afraid as he tries to track you.

"But I won't."

You've been waiting for this night, this one unholy night where you'd be allowed to come back, to gather the unearthly powers granted to you. Halloween: the one night of the year when the living come back to haunt the dead.

And the son of a bitch had the gall to kill you in November. You had to wait almost a whole year for your revenge.

Gonna make it sweet.

It takes a lot of energy to assume something of a human form, but as you grab onto the fear he's giving off, as you use the most ancient of forces to pull your corporeal parts together, it gets easier. You don't feel afraid. You haven't, not since he killed you.

"Consider yourself lucky it's only you I'm after. If I had my way your family's blood would be splattered on these walls along with yours."

Dave shivers violently. "Please, don't!" He's not used to begging or pleading. He's actually on his knees. He tries not to look at you; your visage is too grotesque. Your flesh is falling off your face and your eyes are sunken into your head, giving a ghoulish appearance.

You force his gaze upon you with the ice-cold touch of your hand. "Your family is safe. For now. Hell, there's always next Halloween."

With the cracking open of his ribcage and the spilling of his guts you reach into him, finding the fullness of the heart, the organ he uses the least.

All Dave can do is scream and scream and scream.

The next day Carol sits at the dining room table, two detectives with her. Her coffee has grown cold, barely touched. She still bears the remnants of the makeup she'd put on to complete her costume last night. The girls are upstairs. She couldn't bear sending them to school, having them apart from her. Not while Dave is missing.

"He was fine last night. Normal," she adds, shrugging as she dabs at her eyes with a Kleenex.

Because of his position as a government agent, his disappearance is being taken very seriously. Officers are en route, dispatched to start searching the area, especially the nearby woods, which Carol has always feared.

Dave's gun is there, his wallet, phone, and keys also left behind.

One of the field officers comes in (there have been many people coming in and out of the house today) and motions to the backyard. "Halloween decoration?"

"Yeah," Carol sniffles, smiling just a little. "Dave likes to shock the neighbors. He promised he'd put them away before the morning.. but he never puts them out back.."

Out of guilt, or maybe just to give herself something to do, she gets up and goes to put the decorations away. The detectives follow.

Funny. There's just one.. she thinks, looking at the lone body bag on the lawn, tossed haphazardly next to her bird bath.

It's heavier than she expects. She's too petite to pick it up. Sighing, she kneels, the crunch of the fallen leaves beneath her knees. She'll just take the leaves out and throw the bag away.

Ripping it open with her nails she's stunned a moment, not processing what she's seeing before she lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

Wrapped up in the duct taped body bag is what's left of Dave.

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

tagging @almostempty @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @salingers @zascal

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #dave york #dave york fic #dave york x you #dave york x reader #dave york fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe #halloween writing challenge #halloween fic #ghost fic

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