@blindxeyed | tfw u plot for 3 seconds with half a braincell
Fighting with these urges, odd as they are, hasn’t occurred to Harry yet. These dangerous things he’s been doing--the leaping from building to building, stories upon stores over busy intersections; the confrontations with criminals and narrow escapes with the law; the free falls and last minute swings--they’ve all been to get the adrenaline flowing. It’s worked to sustain the symbiote keeping him alive for quite some time now, but as it’s grown and boded further with Harry... It needs more than just the chemicals in his own bloodstream.
It needs sustenance. It needs blood and bone and brain and marrow. Real, solid, and fresh.
But it’s clever; too clever to ask, outright, for Harry’s permission to feed upon the citizens of New York. No, Venom knows its host too well. It knows that Harry’s loyalties lie with his people, with humanity. But that doesn’t mean it won’t get its meal. So it waits, conserving its energy, focusing only on keeping Harry’s systems functioning. It waits, withering, starving, until the opportune moment. And that moment comes to pass the moment Harry finds himself alone with this stranger; a rarity in a city this size.
It signals danger, manipulating the chemical balance within Harry’s mind to put him on high-alert. And as the only person in the immediate area, Harry’s attention locks onto the man further down the path.
He’s a threat, Venom supplements, it’s internalized voice an urgent hiss. He wants to hurt us, Harry; to take me from you. That’s all it takes: Venom’s earned Harry’s trust, and so far, he has not reason not to trust the one thing keeping him alive.
“No.” The word slips out, and Harry’s not altogether sure if it’s meant to be a show of disbelief, disagreement, or defensiveness. But regardless, he calls for Venoms protection. its aid, and he’s happy to let it cover him.
The pair grow taller than they have before, and their limbs and torso bulk up to match the new height as a razor-toothed mouth splits the old, relatively featureless mask into two macabre halves. Ink-black claws spring from meaty fingertips and hang in front of the monstrous creature as it stands there, panting with the effort of the transformation, and a long, prehensile tongue unfurls itself and slips between the gaps of their needle-like teeth.
“You can’t have us!” Harry cries, his voice amplified and distorted by the creature’s own as they lurch forward, trying to make sense of their new gait and mass.
