Bridget x VenomEdit
Bridget sighed as he gazed down at the forest floor beneath him, idly swinging his girlish legs from the side of the branch. It had been several weeks since had last gone out to find a bounty, and he was bored and filled with sexual tension. It would have been easy enough to relieve it under normal circumstances, but his womanish appearance meant that only a certain type of girl was attracted to him. Sure, it was fun for a while, watching their shocked reactions as they came across his wang, but they tended to get unreasonably violent afterwards, and it was more than one young suitor he’d had to surreptitiously bury in the darker parts of the forest after strangling them with his yo-yo. The truth was, he didn’t think he wanted a girl, anyway. Recently, he had found his thoughts turning towards…well, towards those endowed with a…Y chromosome. Oh, he knew, back in his village, it would have been seen as something shocking, but really, they were the ones who’d dressed him and raised him as a girl all his life; what the hell were they expecting to happen? But it was absolutely impossible for him to find a man; disturbingly similar as he was to a girl, all the men he approached tended to react just as badly as the women when they found him packing tackle. He sighed, and hugged Roger to his chest, and was just wondering about the morality of poking a convenient hole into his crotch, when he heard a rustle of leaves underneath his tree.
He started, almost falling out of the tree. He hopped down, wondering whether one of the small elves that inexplicably roamed free in his forest were playing up again. There was no-one there, and he felt the icy breath of nothingness tickle his vitreous humour. There it was again! The soft rustle of the undergrowth, like dry leaves stuffed into man’s favourite silk boxers. “Who’s there?!” He called, trying to keep an unmanly tremble from his voice (though whilst he bothered dressed in a provocative nun’s habit is anyone’s guess). He felt his breath caught in his throat as a tall, white-clad figure stepped into the clearing. Venom!, he thought, his heart racing. He recognised everything about him; the stupid handkerchief he wore over his face, the absurdly well-toned upper body, the ridiculous amount of fake tan he always sported… “Wh-what do you want?” He stammered, still trying to keep his voice level. “Bridget.” He said, inexplicably speaking perfect Japanese despite his British upbringing. “I came for you.” He started walking towards him, slowly, like some two-legged stallion without antlers. “M-me? Wh-why?” “I want you, Bridget.” Venom said, still approaching. “I’ve wanted you since the first moment we met, and you threw your teddy-bear cum circular saw at me. I’ve been looking for you ever since.” Bridget knew he was blushing, but new he couldn’t help himself. “B-but Mr. Venom, you don’t understand. I…I’m not who you think I am. I…I am not a girl.” “I know.” Venom said, gathering him up in his swarthy arms. “I’ve always known.” “Oh…Venom! You…you feel the same way that I do?” Bridget whispered, now trembling with passion. “Yes. Only I’m a necrophile into the bargain.” Venom said, braining him with his pool cue