#will call Cletus Kasady daddy

[cletuscortlandkasady]

Every time I remember this exchange from Deadpool vs. Carnage (2014) #3, I consider adding yet another kink to Cletus' file.

[creamecream]

Eddie Brock: (he/him) reporter. husband of Felicia Hardy. married the heiress after a seemingly whirlwind romance, thus their relationship is opposed by many parties. married in a mostly secret ceremony and their marriage is still mostly unknown. host of the Venom symbiote. when combined with his symbiote goes by Venom.

Felicia Hardy: (she/her) company owner. wife of Eddie Brock. married the reporter after a seemingly whirlwind romance, thus their relationship is opposed by many parties. married in a mostly secret ceremony and their marriage is still mostly unknown. forced into a genetic experiment that gave her “superpowers” in order to protect her father. alter ego goes by Blackcat. she is currently pregnant.

Scream: (she/her) host unknown. one of the children spawned after the Venom symbiote was kidnapped and artificially impregnated.

Hybrid: (they/them) host n/a. a forced combination of some of the children spawned from the Venom symbiote, after the symbiote was kidnapped and artificially impregnated. a combo of Phage, Agony, Lasher, and Riot.

Carnage: (he/him) formally the serial killer Cletus Kasady and a symbiote spawned from the Venom symbiote. completely fused together and cannot be separated. formally may have been involved with the villain Shriek. partakes heavily in the eating brains tendencies of his symbiote nature.

Toxin: (he/him) spawn of the Carnage symbiote. matched with the cop Patrick Mulligan, and the two of them hand off usage of the human body. the strongest of the whole crowd of symbiotes.

[eyes-brainrot]

Some crack Cletus/Eddie fic

“Oh Daddy, what brings you here today?” the redhead asks, laying on the kitchen table and batting his bright green eyes. “Are you going to punish me now?”

“What the fuck Kasady,” Eddie Brock says in disgust. “You’re way older than me, stop talking like that.”

Venom then manifests and grabs a broom, chasing the younger symbiote/older man out of his trashed apartment. Kasady cackles as he flees the small space.

[hybistrophile]

Cletus Kasady | Carnage Imagine: Post-Symbiosis Edition

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

🔪 🔪 🔪

• you were watching a breaking news bulletin when you got the call you've been anticipating and dreading all at once; it was the NYPD detective who tracked down and arrested your kidnapper, former employee, and ex-lover;

• the fantastical report of his jailbreak turned out to be more fact than fiction; after serving only 2 years out of his 11 life sentences on Rikers Island, Cletus Cortland Kasady, the bloodiest serial killer New York City has known in decades, was back on the streets

• "I suggest you pack light," the detective continued; "a police car is on its way to pick you up. are you at Hatchet's or at the apartment?"

• "you've been at home all evening," you look over at Barry, who's already filling a duffle bag with whatever clothes of yours he can find; "I won't be needing my summer wear, babe," you call to him, calmly; so calmly, it chills you; "oh, and, Mrs. Hatchet," you hear the detective say through the speaker; "did you check your inbox? has he sent you anything recently?"

• Barry was bringing the bags into the hallway when you were being asked the question; "your inbox? that son of a bitch's been writing to you?"; "digital inbox," you answer quickly; too quickly; "can't you check my inbox for yourself, detective? why are you asking me questions you already know the answers to?"; "of course, of course. I'll leave you to pack. the car should be there in ten;"

• Barry wouldn't drop the subject, not even in the company of the officers driving you to safety; and you couldn't blame him for it; at least, you shouldn't;

• 2 years ago, he had been the one to welcome you when the NYPD brought you back to the crime scene your butchery had become; he was the one to give up on his California dreams to be with you in NYC during the trail of Cletus Kasady; and, most importantly, he was the one to give you a home again;

• fiddling with the wedding ring that's never fit your finger, you finally explained yourself to him: "there's more bodies," you started; "more grieving families; when he asked to speak to me, detective Mulligan hoped it would lead to confessions, locations, cases being closed; Barry, I should've told you;"

• "I'll tell you what you shouldn't have done," he kept his voice down, but you both knew he had every right to raise it; "you shouldn't have accepted to be pen pals with my father's, your father-in-law's murderer; hell, with a dozen other people's murderer; with your fucking r-"

• "he never touched me," you raised your voice, not caring that the officers could hear your domestic dispute; "he never touched me without my permission. ever;" "what a fucking dreamboat;" he hissed; "your bad romance might've gotten you a New York Times Bestseller, but me and your therapist both agree; you need to let it go; it's killing you; he's killing you;"

• you conceded, because he was right; he's always been right; however, as you quietly watched your husband hush the fitful baby with flaming curls in his arms, you silently concluded that you couldn't let go; Cletus Kasady was a part of you, now and forever;

• as soon as you boarded the flight to San Francisco, you covered the shock of red hair with a calming blue hat; you've already been spotted by what you assumed were readers of your autobiography or true crime enthusiasts, and you didn't want your son to end up on social media;

• "once we're all settled in, Daddy's taking you to meet Mickey," Barry began baby-talking and you finally stopped fidgeting with your wedding band; it's during times like these, during the pantomime of domestic bliss, that you feel like it fits; "that's right, Clive; we're going to Disneyland;" the boy's eyes were bright as he was bounced on your husband's leg and, for once, married life felt right; it fit;

• the feeling of being unfit sunk back into your stomach as soon as Barry started snoring; you wrote about him being your savior and your readers slurped it up; the murder of his father and the subsequent death of his mother had the two of you finding family in each other; the business he inherited helped the two of you build a new life; and the birth of your son prompted the two of you to make a home for all three

• Barry would talk about his great grandmother, or great aunt, or some other distand female relative having been a redhead, but he knew better; both of you did; actually, all three of you did; after all, in Cletus Kasady's first e-mail, he asked about Clive; or, as he called him, Cain

• Sweet thing,

It's been ten months since I tasted you. They served me strawberry pudding today, the first sweet treat I had since you fed me your blood. It didn't even come close. Nothing ever did, or ever will.

It's been ten months, so little Cain must be feeding on you as I type this. I know your tit is just as sweet and I know he's getting spoiled. Good. Spoil him. Let him have all the mother's milk he can stomach. He is his father's son, so I just know he has a sweet tooth.

Spoil him rotten and give him a kiss from Daddy, won't you?

Yours,

Cletus.

• re-reading his words wasn't what your therapist or your husband would've recommended, but your therapist was back in NYC and Barry was asleep beside you, so you read over his words again and again; their hunger fed your soul and devoured the memories of the monster you had come to know two years ago

• 2 years ago, Cletus Kasady was your employee; more than that, he was your lover; on the evening of what would've been your first date, a couple of police officers walked into your butcher shop and threatened him with an outstanding arrest warrant;

• "this must be a mistake," you said to the policemen; "this must be a mistake," you protested as they ordered you to lock the entrance and escort them to the back; "this is a mistake," you shouted as they approached your employee with handcuffs;

• "this can't be happening," you gasped when Cletus shoved the two of them in the cold room and locked the door; "this can't be happening," you protested when he grabbed your hand and pulled you through the emergency EXIT; "this isn't happening," you screamed as he shoved you in the back of the refrigerator van

• oh, but it was happening; you were being kidnapped by your employee, your lover; and, while you didn't know it at the time, mind frozen in fear and body frozen in place, you were being kidnapped by the bloodiest serial killer New York has known in decades;

• it was night when the van stopped and you were scooped out of the corner you'd been stuck in, cold and blind; "turned it off, but it's still chilly back here, huh?" he said as casually as ever, carrying you past hanging cow carcasses and the delivery driver's corpse; "don't worry, boss lady," he rubbed ar your back; "I got us a new ride. it has heated seats and everything;"

• the new car did indeed have heated seats, but the driver's was stained with fresh, warm blood; its current driver didn't mind, however, and the two of you were off as soon as he put on your seatbelt for you;

• "Cletus," you spoke softly through a tight throat; you'd been screaming his name in the back of a moving freezer, so you've never had it feel this sore before; "why are we doing this?"

• what he told you next sounded like a dream; or, rather, a nightmare; Mr. Hatchet hadn't been missing, and he's been in your cold room the entire time; what was left of him, at least; the morning he disappeared, he'd come to see you, but was greeted by Cletus instead; apparently, he was a pig in everything but appearance;

• "fuckin' hog thought we were in a lockerroom; he kept on askin' questions 'bout you, about you bein' late to work, 'bout how cock hungry you outta be," he spit all this out like fire, fogging up the car windows; and you shivered, but not from the cold still stuck in the marrow of your bones; "so I gutted 'im; then, I ripped out his heart; know that pig heart I cooked for you? it was that pig's;"

• his words were as red as the poem he wrote in Mr. Hatchet's blood; red like his ire; red like his lust; red like his love; and, worst of all, as red as the flame that burned in your womb when his hand, just as red, squeezed your thigh; and you shivered;

• the same red had colored the rest of this dream; or nightmare; red was the rising sun when you awoke, still strapped with the seatbelt and riding shotgun; red was the cabin door he kicked open and carried you in his arms through; red was the coffee cup he brought to you while you soaked in the tub; red was the bathing water after he scrubbed the both of you clean, and red was his hair between you thighs as he ate you alive;

• "sweet," he spoke against your lips as he laid on them a vertical kiss; "can't get enough of this sweet pussy," he shoved his tongue between your folds and they opened up for him like flower petals; "can't get enough of you, sweet thing;"

• when he pulled you further down the old wooden bed, he also pulled you down further into this dream; or nightmare; and when he wedged himself between your trembling thighs, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him down with you; "Cletus," you called out to him, grasping at his shoulders as if he'd slip between your fingers; but he was right there, burrowed inside you and closer than ever; "Cletus, don't wake me," you begged, burying your face in the crook of his neck;

• "this is real life, baby, and it ain't nothin' but red blood and white pain," he chuckled, his cock crammed deep in your cunt and teeth tracing your throat; "and this is the real me," he growled, grasping your hips so tight they hurt and sinking his teeth in so deep he draws blood; "this is the real Cletus Kasady," he snarls, teeth stained red, eyes blown black, and hips jerking as he comes; his tongue lapped up the blood trickling out as his cum stained you from the inside out

• "but I'm all yours," he rises to sit back on his haunches and look upon his work: the red collar around your throat and the white filling in your cunt; "and, now," he spread his palm across your entire stomach, "you're all mine;"

• these vows were your lifeline and you'd float on the raft he build from his words for the following week; when you felt like drowning, tears choking you as you struggled to face yourself in the mirror, he whisper those words and pull you back to the surface;

• when you questioned his motives, interrogating your own feelings, as much as his, he'd swear that he's been doing your bidding the entire time; "why did the delivery driver have to die Cletus? and the car owner? what about him?"; "you hired me to slaughter, didn't you?"

• the wood log cabin was your raft, and Cletus saw to it being as homey as possible; he wouldn't let you raise a finger, cleaning and cleaning for the two of you; he'd keep you safe, reinforcing the doors and locking them;

• he'd always lock them; when he'd taken you to the lake on a particularly hot day, he locked the door; you've never been skinny dipping before, never laid on a lake bank in the sun to dry, never got to mate naked in the woods like an animal; as you fled him, it wasn't to get away; where would you go anyway? the cabin with the red door was now your home and the man with red hair and blood under his fingernails was now your world; you fled him only to be chased down; he hunted you like a doe and fucked you like a rabbit; you couldn't get the stink of him off of you, but you didn't want to; how else was the red fox supposed to track you?

• he'd always lock the doors; even as he went out for supplies, he'd locked them; he'd lock your bedroom door, too; "it's for your own safetly, baby," he'd kiss your forehead farewell; you wanted to believe it so badly

• you wouldn't be awakened for another week, as he kept your head stuffed with dreams and your cunt stuffed with his cum; when you did wake up, it was by the NYPD; it was a rude awakening, too; in the middle of the night, in the middle of another mating session;

• the reinforcements didn't hold, and your red front door was kicked down; Cletus couldn't hold his own, not while his only weapon was his red-stained teeth; and he couldn't hold onto you either; "I love you," he sunk into the wetness of your blood; "I love you," he sunk into the warmth of your womb; "I love you," he shouted as he was being apprehended;

• by the time you arrived back in NYC, you noticed how deep the handcuffs he used to tie your hand to the bedpost had cut into your wrist; you also noticed how much it hurt; all the bruises you've begged him for did; and, what hurt the most, what cut the deepest, was reality; it hadn't been a dream or a nightmare; it had all been real and it had all been red;

• 2 years later, you are being shaken awake by your husband, Barry Hatchet, just as you land in San Francisco; he and your son, Clive Hatchet, look concerned; "you've been talking in your sleep again, babe," he dabbled the sweat off of your forehead; "have you been taking your pills?"

• since he was the one who threw the contents of your medicine cabinet into your purse, you assumed that he already knew; still, you answered him: "might've missed a day;" as expected, he didn't believe you;"

• for the next week, you had the excuse of having missed a day; for the next week, reality blurred with fantasy and the present, with the past; your mind was as fogged as the city skyline, so Barry had to take the remote from you; "babe, we agreed not to watch the news;"

• "can I get have some coffee?" you looked over to the closet door which was slightly ajar; from where you were laid back on the bed, you spotted a red dress; you had bought it back in New York, on a whim; or during another pills-free day;

• "it's almost dinner time," he reminded you; the baby also brought attention to this, cupping the breast his head lay against and cooing up at you; "chocolate milk then?" you made a compromise and so did Barry; "don't think we have cocoa, but I can go out and get some;" "I'll go get some, as soon as I'm done nursing;" sinking further into the pillows, you pull out the breast he ordered; "Cain says dinner time is now;"

• you hadn't realized what you just said, but your husband and the self-proclaimed father of your child sure did; "Cain?" he knitted his brows together; "his name is Clive, babe," you quickly corrected him; "I know that, but do you know that?"

• you laughed, and, even as his forehead smoothened, you knew you weren't fooling him; but you hoped that what you had in mind would; "I know you haven't seen me in my new dress yet," your voice was playful, but you weren't baby-talking; Barry allowed himself to be fooled, if only to have his wife seduce him again;

• it's been a while since you used the bed for anything but sleeping; "I'm gonna go out, get us some steaming hot cocoa, and I'm gonna be wearing that steaming hot number;" "alright, alright," he laid next to you; "cool off there, miss; little ears are listening;" then, he laid a kiss on your lips; after, the both of you laid a kiss on Clive's little red head;

• that night, while you were out, you took in the city lights for the first time; you even splashed into a puddle just because it shimmered red; you imagined this is what the world looked like through infant son's eyes; it was all colors; flushing your pills away for a week straight felt like the right decision;

• when you made it to the coffee shop the taxicab drove past on the morning of your arrival, you were free to undo the buttons of your coat and show off your red dress; as expected, it did turn a few heads; but there's only one man's head you cared about turning and he was in your new home, tucking your baby into bed; or was he back in your old home, in NYC, painting the town red?

• "you okay, ma'am?" asked the barista; "I'm good," you nodded, not fully comprehending why she was now sitting next to you at a table; you didn't even begin to comprehend why both the drinks you orders to go were now cold; "we're closing in half an hour," she smiled, and you knew how difficult that was for customer service workers; "can I get you another drink, or...?"; "no, I'm good," you lied, launching yourself off the chair and startling the girl; then, as you checked your phone for the time, you saw that it was dead; "I'm good, I just...just lost track of time, I guess;"

• "do you live far from here?" she asked as you buttoned up your coat; "I could call you an Uber;" you turned her down by thanking her, left the shop without even checking the hour of the night; as a woman, she knew how dangerous it was for the likes of you out there; not only were you alone, you were also wearing the color that drove all men mad; or, at least one man; and it just so happened to be your man;

• "damn it," you spit out, startling the group of young boys loitering on the steps of a skate shop; "damn it, woman," you berated yourself as the boys laughed at the crazy bitch running down the street; "you were supposed to be remembering, not forgetting," you whispered to yourself, all of a sudden aware of just how man you must've seemed;

• 2 weeks earlier, after your arrival in San Francisco, your therapist had warmed detective Mulligan about your recent refusal to take the pills; "your doctor says you'd just be putting yourself in danger, but, with supervision, I think we have a chance," he spoke through the speaker; "I won't lie to you, Mrs. Hatchet; we're desperate; he's been leaving blood trails and blood graffiti and we still have no idea where he is; if you can remember something, anything call me;"

• 2 week later, as you skipped the puddle you were all too happy to jump in before, you swore you would stay on your medication; no worth memories are trading in for reality; and the reality was that you were Cletus Kasady's victim, not his other;

• Sweet thing,

My new roomie can't shut up about his 'other'. He's trying to convince me that this 'other' is an ET who bonds with him, mind, body, and soul. He's trying to say that while they are together, they are Venom. You remember that weirdo the friendly, neighborhood Spider-dude was trading punches with, right? That was Eddie Brock and he's my roomie now.

When he isn't talking about his other, he's asking me about mine. He's read your book and wants my side of the story.

And I don't want you to worry, baby girl. I won't tell Brock, or any of your fans, how you lied about us. I won't tell him about my Other, or about the two of us together being the 'Carnage' in the title.

P.S. Give Cain a kiss from Daddy, won't you?

Yours,

Cletus

• as soon as you reached it, your saw that your door was slightly ajar; you were ready to dismiss this anomaly as you have forgotten to close it on your way out; stepping into the apartment, you called to him; "Barry, babe, my phone died;" you take off your boots, then your coat, and then you take the drinks into the kitchen; "I wasn't ignoring your calls," you popped his drink into the microwave;

• you got no answer from your husband, but you did get one from your son; "oh, baby," you softened your voice on your way to his room; the sound of you stomping all over the place must've woken him up; when you reached his room, you saw that his door was also ajar; and also painted with streaks of red;

• you weren't so willing to dismiss this disturbance as your doing; but you were a butcher's daughter, and you were used to the smell and sight of a slaughter; so, when you walked into your son's room and spotted the bleeding body of your husband, the red of it staining the blue carpet, you could stomach it; you had to stomach it, for the sake of the survivor; for the sake of your son;

• through the sound of your panicked panting, you heard him crying; and, through the tears forming in your eyes, you saw him in the arms of the monster nobody has managed to get a good photo of, and you saw that it was red;

• "no, no, no," you begged the beast who was cradling Clive in its long limbs; "please," you reached out your own limbs; " please don't hurt him," you let the tears fall freely, feeling like you were drowning, like you were dreaming; but it wasn't a dream, or a nightmare; it was real; so, you sought out empathy in its big, white, and empty eyes; "he's...he's just a baby;"

• "he's not just a baby," it spoke, softer than you would've supposed a creature made of slaughter could've; its tone was low, and it almost hissed when it spoke again; "he's my baby;"

• as its eyes sunk back into its head, it revealed a second, smaller pair, but just as empty; they were green and a familiar red; "no," you collapsed in front of it; in front of him; you were on your hands and knees in front of him; Cletus Kasady, your former employee, ex-lover, and the bloodiest serial killer New York has known in decades; and the father of your child;

• "hi, honey," he cradled his baby boy in his arms, trying and failing to calm him; "I'm finally home;"

[mystery-skulls-ghost]

oh no.

Cameron "Cammy" Karlsson

Twisted from: Cletus Kasady/Carnage

Dorm: Heartslabyul

Year: 2nd

Birthday: January 14th

Pronouns: He/Him

Relationship Status: ???

Age: 17

Height: 175cm

Dominant Hand: Right

Birthplace: Davane

Club: Entomology Club

Favorite Subject: Ancient Curses

Likes: Varying shades of red, chaos, Absolute silence, blades

Dislikes: Prissy posh pricks, journalists, pastel pink

Favorite Food: Ketchup and Pork(...?)

Disliked Food: Licorice

Special Skill: Planning out outcomes that always benefit him one way or another

Twisted fucking cycle path. Cammy is not very pleasant to hang around with. He's like Floyd, but red and goes over the line way too often. He WILL bring up sensitive topics towards certain people in inappropriate situations and prod them about it. He WILL creepily stalk anyone he deems interesting. He WILL bring up people close to those he dislikes in insults. Why is he in a place like Night Raven College?

Signature Spell:

"MAXIMUM CARNAGE"

Allows Cammy to shapeshift his limbs to bladed weapons. It does not look pleasant. Can it extend to tentacles growing out of his back? Possibly, if he tried hard enough...

Relationships: (Unless noted, he despises everyone.)

DP - You'd think they'd go well together. Think again.

Yume (@aiallardyce)- ...Daddy...

Riddle - Goody little two shoes, goody little two shoes... Why not go home with your momma?

Ace - Is your big bro as great as you think he is...?

Deuce - Your mama's still looking pretty disappointed even after all you've done...

Trey - Don't you have anything else to do other than hang out with Rosehearts...?

Cater - Your big sisters and momma must be proud of you, huh? Better keep it up...

Tiny Tidbits:

Cammy likes to call people he really likes either "daddy" or "mama", regardless of their opinion on him.

He sounds like if Floyd and Idia were mashed into a horrifying flesh abomination vaguely shaped like a human being. Slow. Growly.

Can finish a whole chicken down to the bones.

Despite his overall demeanor, he actually hasn't killed a man. (...yet.)

The type of guy to play with his food. Look at him, playing with his raspberry jam spelling out "CARNAGE RULES!".

Possibly has unresolved issues towards his own parents? Who knows.

The man needs therapy, but he actively avoids it.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

ok so like: yandere platonic venom, am I right? he finds you walking down the street being mugged and when he finds you hes like "why is there a child alone in the street eddie can we keep them let's keep them" and eddie just like "let's do it"

so life is nice, they teach you from home how to do stuff but then.... one day your watching TV and you hear some glass breaking so you're about to investigate when someone looking like venom but red appears and is like "WHERE TF IS- oh hey I didnt know he had a kid!" so he just kind of vibes with a random kid and is like "dude your dad left you to take care of yourself??? your like 12 right??" and then he just kind of becomes ur second dad.

eddie comes back like within the next hour bc he heard reports of carnage being in the area and wanted to make sure that you were alright and he loses his shit when he sees you sitting on the couch watching your fav TV show with kletus kasady. so a fight ensues and you just say "aight imma head out" and go to your room. afterward, not wanting to either A, harm you bc of their fights, and B, to make sure that no one knows of your location, they kind of have a time slot for you. one week you'll go to papa venom/Eddie's house and then the next week, you'll go to carnage/kasadys house

with eddie and venom they treat you good, and they're like what every person with daddy issues wanted in a dad (calling myself out), and with carnage and kasady they're like the cool uncles who let you do dangerous shit but instead of doing normal things they bring you to a height building close enough to the ground so you can see who's there and then they're like "watch this" and then go commit mass murder

Bro, Carnage and Cletus are those batshit crazy but fun as hell uncles!! Reader will most likely get all their bad habits from them, meanwhile Venom and Eddie are trying to be the perfect role models for their bby.

[aion-rsa]

Venom 2 Trailer Song Explains “One Is the Loneliest Number”

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

You’re never alone with an alien symbiote. Just ask Eddie Brock (Tom Hardy), whose body-roomie Venom is almost helpful in the kitchen in the new Venom: Let There Be Carnage trailer. But his counterpart Cletus Kasady (Woody Harrelson) only sees red, and is on a mission to wreak carnage. Meanwhile, he writer of the song in the Venom 2 trailer only wanted to bring some bittersweet pandemonium.

Harry Nilsson’s song “One” appeared on his 1968 album Aerial Ballet. The album title was a tribute to his grandparents, who were highwire circus act performers. It was the follow-up to his Pandemonium Shadow Show album, which got everybody talkin’ about the singer-songwriter from Brooklyn. When John Lennon and Paul McCartney were asked to name their favorite American group during their highly-covered 1968 press conference to announce the formation of The Beatles’ Apple Corps, each of the songwriting duo independently answered “Nilsson.”

You might think, with all that attention, Nilsson could connect with anyone, but the song “One” was inspired by a dial-tone disconnect. Harry wrote the song after making a phone call and getting a busy signal. As he listened to the beeps, he heard the sad C minor of his opening chord. “One is the loneliest number,” the line which opens the song, has become part of common jargon and is often mistaken for the song title.

The first line, “one is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do,” hits the listener with an immediate detachment. It doesn’t quite go where it’s expected. This subtly adds to the isolation of the number before Harry further distances the listener with emotional contradictions. “No is the saddest experience you’ll ever know. Yes, it’s the saddest experience you’ll ever know.” Each affirmation is aurally negated and internally confounding. It only works “because one is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do.”

While the lyrics are deceptively simple, the arrangement is sublime. Nilsson, who died in 1996, was a master of overdubs, and his voice performs acrobatics like triple flips on a trapeze. His electric piano is accompanied by classical sounding violin and woodwinds, over subtle guitars and drums. In spite of the intricate arrangement, the song remains intimate.

The most famous version of the song was done by Three Dog Night. Vocalist Chuck Negron builds the song to an almost operatic overkill, letting the world know how lonely loneliness can be. Three Dog Night’s cover hit number five on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100 in 1969.

Nilsson was an amazingly prolific and successful songwriter. He started out writing for Little Richard before becoming part of the Phil Spector songwriting stable. Nilsson’s songs were covered by Glen Campbell, Fred Astaire, The Shangri-Las, and The Yardbirds. He wrote the opening theme to The Courtship of Eddie’s Father. 

He gave The Monkees one of their most controversial songs, “Cuddly Toy,” which was rumored to be about a gang bang. The TV-ready band got possessive when they made their move to major motion pictures. Nilsson wanted to open Ariel Ballet with his “Daddy’s Song,” but The Monkees liked it so much they paid him $35,000 so they could put it in the film Head.

Nilsson is best known as a songwriter, but loved the works of his contemporaries. Most of his own hits were covers of other writers. His somber hit “Without You” was written by Badfinger’s Pete Ham and Tom Evans. The only cover song on Aerial Ballet is Fred Neil’s “Everybody’s Talkin’,” which became Nilsson’s biggest hit after it was featured in the Oscar-winning film Midnight Cowboy. It also earned Harry his only Grammy Award, for Best Contemporary Male Vocalist.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Nilsson’s connection with the Beatles was immersive. George Harrison played on his albums, as did Ringo Starr, who also co-starred with Harry in the unreleased Hammer Horror film The Son of Dracula. Ringo also narrated Nilsson’s animated musical movie The Point. Lennon would later catch the blame for his and Harry’s antics during the infamous “Lost Weekend” era which spawned the Hollywood Vampires. Much like Eddie Brock does for his Klyntar friend.

“Who do we leave behind, and how do we leave them?” Cletus Kasady asks in the Venom 2 trailer. “Waiting in the darkness for the rescuer who never comes.” One is a much, much more lonely number than two. As long as Eddie Brock and Venom are one, they’ll never be lonely.

Venom: Let There Be Carnage is scheduled for a Sept. 24, 2021 release date.

The post Venom 2 Trailer Song Explains “One Is the Loneliest Number” appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3hfZduf

[blissfullylostinarabbithole]

Outsider Pt. 16

Pairing: Step Dad!Tony Stark x Teen!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Reader learns a bit about the man holding her captive.

Warnings: Force feeding, mentions of vom, unwanted advances, general creepiness. S1 spoiler for GoT.

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When you woke, your head felt foggy and your eyelids heavy. When you finally opened them, you saw a man sleeping beside you, and you began to remember what had happened the last time you woke.

You tried to sit up slowly hoping the creaking bed frame wouldn’t wake him, and had to bite down on your fist to keep from crying out at the blinding pain on your side. Making sure he was still asleep, you lifted your shirt and bandage and found the stitches had been redone. Though it was no longer bleeding, the spot was red and swollen, and it was starting to give off an unpleasant odor.

Looking around the large room again, you could feel the walls closing in on you. You couldn’t tell if it was day or night, nor had any idea how long you’ve been there. Eyeing the door, you weighed your chances of getting off the bed and making a run for it before he woke, but the bed was loud and you weren’t even sure you could run. Plus, you couldn’t take the chance only to find the door might be locked. You turned back to the sleeping man, hoping you could try to find the key and slip it from him, but found him wide awake and staring.

“Hi,” you gasped.

“Hello.” A smile began to creep on his face. “How do you feel?”

Your hand fell from its place on your side. “I need a doctor. I think I’m getting an infection.”

He rolled his eyes and propped himself on an elbow. “You’re just not giving it time to heal. Do you remember yet?”

His annoyance at your insistence for medical attention only confused you as to why he took care to stitch you up in the first place. Still, you had to try to find out whatever you could; stall until you could either get away or be found.

He frowned as you shook your head. “What happened to m-,” you stopped yourself, noting his own bruises, “us? Why are we hurt?”

He sat up, scooting closer to you. If he felt you stiffen when he buried his face into your hair, he didn’t comment. “You didn’t come to me,” he breathed in your ear. “Your daddy tried to tear us apart. I showed him.”

He began to laugh as your blood ran cold. What had he done to Tony? What had he to the others, to-

“Sam,” you whispered. The man gripped your arm hard, turning you roughly to face him. You grimaced at the pain, but kept from screaming.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” you rushed as his face contorted with anger. You watched it turn into rage as you studied his familiar features. Nat’s mocking laughter flashed through your mind, and it clicked into place. “Cletus?”

Like the flip of a light switch, his scowl became a beaming grin. “You remember.”

“It’s coming back to me,” you lied, relieved you were on the right track. “It’s slow going, though.” His eyes trailed down to your lips, and you had to swallow the vomit that raced up your throat. “Bathroom,” you blurted just as he was leaning in. “I need a bathroom.”

He threw himself on his back, laughing away the tension. “You’re shy,” he teased. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but usually a threatening undertone was nonexistent.

He nodded toward the corner where the bucket was, and you couldn’t help scrunching your nose in disgust. “I need to wash. At least I need to try to clean my cuts so they don’t get worse.”

To your horror, he got up to leave. He didn’t ask you to follow, or say a word about an available restroom. He walked out, and you heard him lock the door behind him.

A sob escaped you once you were confident he wouldn’t hear it. You tried to hold your tears back, but it was impossible. Deciding to take advantage of his absence, you climbed off the bed to test your strength. The walk to the bucket was slow, but you were able to stay on your feet until you were halfway back to the bed.

When you heard the door unlock, you wiped at your eyes and tried to free your face of any expression. He entered holding a pack of baby wipes, but your gaze followed the key in his hand as he slipped it into his pocket.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tony stared at the ground, his cheek stinging from the slap your mother landed as soon as she stepped off the plane.

She'd said nothing when he told her what had happened over the phone, and even now she seemed at a loss for words. The ride back to the tower was tense, neither Happy nor Tony dared to even breathe louder than necessary.

At the tower, he led her to the conference room where all your gifts were laid out on the table.

“Where’s Barnes,” she asked, coldness in her voice.

“Honey…”

“All this evidence and he never said a word. To anyone.”

“It’s not his fault.” He chuckled humorlessly at the incredulous look she shot him. “I know I’m not his number one fan, but I looked through all this, we all did, multiple times. Aside from the book, there’s nothing here that points to anything of significance.”

“He still should’ve said something. He felt something was off, and he thought keeping it to himself was the right choice.”

“You’ll have to wait if you want to talk to him. He’s only been back once since she’s been gone, and that’s because Cap dragged him in for a shower and some shut eye.”

“Fine,” she huffed, dropping her things into an empty chair. “Where do we search next?”

“I’m sorry, what?” He saw the determination in her eyes, and knew he had to talk her down. “It’s dangerous, you can’t-”

“Anthony, if you’re about to tell me to stay here and just wait for you, the man who lost MY daughter, to find her, then I will grab her and take her home and have this marriage annulled before the police are even finished writing the reports!”

“I tried to protect her!”

“If you’d have been honest with her she might still be here!”

“I know,” he collapsed into the nearest chair, suddenly unable to look his wife in the eye. “I know I messed up. I keep messing everything up.”

“So make it up to me. Make it up to her. Find. Her.” She stormed out of the room, leaving Tony to gather himself while she prepared to take to the streets herself.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You pushed the slop around the paper bowl, hoping he wouldn’t notice you weren’t eating it. It was disgusting, but it was also getting harder to refuse food and water. Though you were dehydrated, you were afraid it was laced with something to knock you out or worse. Sometimes he would leave you for a moment and you’d be able to dump what he’d given you in the bucket, and sometimes you’d even been able to get him to share his own once you’ve seen him consume some of it. This time, however, you were hoping to switch your bowl with his, and prayed that it would do something, anything, to disorient him enough for you to get the key and leave.

“Tell me how we met.” He stopped mid bite and glanced at you curiously. “I mean, maybe it’ll help me remember faster.”

He set his bowl down, and you took care to set yours right beside it.

“You were out with your mom, so so annoyed with mommy,” his eyes glazed over as he giggled at the memory, and you took the chance to grab his bowl. “You turned back and smiled at me, and when our eyes connected, our souls connected.” He picked your bowl up, and you smiled as he shoveled a spoonful into his mouth. “We knew from just that one look we were meant to be.”

“That’s,” horseshit, “wonderful.” You ate from the bowl, making his smile grow wider.

“You couldn’t keep away. When I got up, you followed and pretended to bump into me. You couldn’t wait to feeeeeel meeee,” he sang.

You began coughing, choking on the nasty sludge he insisted was food. This was him? The random guy you bumped into on your first few days in the city, the one who you thought looked familiar in the news article about the robbery? And he thought you made heart eyes at him or something?

He shoved your cup of water into your hands, but you tried to refuse it, much to his annoyance. He grabbed your chin and brought the cup to your lips, ordering you to drink. Thankfully, you ended up spilling most of it, and he reached for his own to also force into you. You drank it, and your coughing mostly stopped.

“There,” he smiled. “Feel better?”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

“Can’t have you dying on me now can I? Not when it’s not on my terms.” He began to laugh like he’d just told the funniest joke, oblivious to look of horror on your face.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Peter hadn't been able to sleep, and it was starting to show. Ned was exhausted, too, but never complained. They'd put up missing person posters on every shop window they came across before Tony had tasked the job to Happy and told the boys to return to school.

They stood at the entrance, trying to give a flyer to every student who passed. Some ignored them, only pushing past to get to class. Most those who took one, promptly dropped it in the trash without so much as a glance.

Peter was getting angry, his eyes beginning to water in frustration. He noticed Michelle approach, and dried his eyes before offering her one.

She took it, recognizing you immediately. Her body gave an involuntary shiver when she glossed over the suspect's info.

“Who's Cletus Kasady?” she asked, getting both boys’ attention.

“He's that psycho killer who murdered all those people last week.”

Her brow furrowed, and she turned back toward Peter. “He's the one who took her?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, drying his eyes again.

Behind him, she could see the garbage can filled with flyers and sighed. “Gimme some.” She grabbed half of Peter's stack and turned toward the approaching students.

One girl scoffed and tried to side step her, but she blocked her path and practically shoved the paper in her face.

“Have you seen either of these people?” she demanded. The girl was taken aback, but took it and scanned it before shaking her head. “If you do see them, or even think you see them, call the number at the bottom. It's important.”

Peter and Ned watched the girl walk away, her eyes still on the flyer as Michelle forced another one into the face of another student.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

You’d pulled the old switcheroo a few times now, and nothing ever happened. You’d watch with bated breath as he ate what was meant for you, but grew discouraged when every minute passed as he kept talking about himself.

The more he told you, the more desperate you became of getting away from him. He’d often lose his train of thought, or expected you to make connections between things that made no sense. When he told you he was the one who had murdered the Carrs, and everyone who was in their establishment, you broke down. He tried to comfort you, and you fought the urge to shove him away, even when he whispered in your ear that it was your fault for not doing as he’d instructed. You didn’t know what he’d meant by that, but it seemed the wrong time to ask since he’d been losing patience with your ‘amnesia’.

When your cries were reduced to sniffles, he tilted your chin towards him and began to lean in. He’d caught you off guard, and you turned away from him before realizing it’d been safer to let him, just for a moment.

He growled and grabbed your throat, pulling you toward him.

“I’m growing tired of this little game of yours,” he hissed in your ear as you clawed at his hands, struggling for air. “There was another before you, you know? She refused me, too. Do you know what happened? I pushed her away from me, and in front of an oncoming bus.” He shoved you away, watching you try to regain your composure. He shoved your takeout box back into your hands, and ordered you to eat.

You took it with shaky hands, digging up a fry from the bottom of the stack and nibbling on it. “It’s good,” you offered gratefully, trying to calm him.

“It’d better be. I risked going to that stupid diner in Brooklyn to get it.”

You paused, still only halfway done with that first fry. He’d avoided telling you anything about where you were, and now he’d just let it slip that you were still in New York. You tried to feel hopeful that you’d be found, though it only made it seem worse that he’d made it clear he had no qualms about killing you if he had to. The thought that you could die so close to freedom was enough to make you despair.

The box was snatched from your hands, and a handful of fries were being rammed onto your lips.

“Eat!” he snarled, using one hand to pry your mouth open.

The harder you fought, the more forceful he became, and he didn’t stop until you’d eaten every last crumb.

You cried yourself to sleep that ‘night’, and not able to take the sound of your weeping, he’d left you alone. It would’ve been a nice reprieve had it not been for your inability to keep much of anything down when you were stressed, making you spend half the night on the floor next to the bucket.

When you awoke, you were back on the bed, though he was nowhere to be found. There was a small table beside the bed now, and on it was a vase with a bouquet of flowers that looked all too familiar. On his side of the bed, there was the usual bowl of goo along with a note.

I forgive you

It was signed with a ‘CK’ and a heart.

You grabbed the bowl and dumped its contents into the bucket. You began to ‘wash’, using the used wipes to cover the food. You checked your bandage, and cringed at how nasty it was turning.

“Fuck,” you sighed. “I’m gonna go out like Drogo if I don’t get out of here.”

But you had no idea how. He wasn’t a deep enough sleeper for you to try to sneak out, and giving him what you thought might be drugged food and drink wasn’t working. You weren’t strong enough to remove the mattress from the frame, let alone one of the metal bars, and nothing in the room seemed to be loose enough for you to yank to use as a weapon.

Unused to having the table there, you bumped into it and luckily caught the vase before it fell. As you lifted it back onto the table, you noticed its weight. The ceramic wasn’t very thick, but it was quite heavy. Heavy enough, you hoped, to give you enough time to get the key and out the door.

Permanent -  @melconnor2007 @ria132love @psychicwitchphilosopher @sireennotsiren @silence--in--the--library @thefridgeismybestie@hymnofthevalkyrie@abbybills22@mvasquez492@ek823@nicky10876@sophiealiice @madeof-ink@dugan365 @magnitude101999 @way-ward-whale @i-am-the-fandom-warrior @seabasstiantrash

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Outsider -  @whovianayesha @alicethecactus @writings-of-a-girl @problematicpastry @tienna-laufeyson16@sexysamsungl @purplekitten30 @xotaku-baekx @lexie-mo @buckybear97 @cookies186 @let-me-try-mom @captainmoon46 @snapdragonqueen @mjlo0305 @thatcrazybookwormgeek @nerdy-sherlock-fan-191 @stubbornwhale @hellomydearfriends @rainbow-anon @look-to-the-stars-and-wish @amnahs9695

If I missed you in the tags, let me know!

A/N: So, a fair few of you figured out it was Kasady :D I know erotomania isn’t his type of psychosis, but hey, it’s fanfic!

[cletuscortlandkasady]

Remember how Cletus Kasady insulted Eddie Brock? Yeah, that was some poorly masked projecting on his part.

"You are a cancer to everyone who ever loved you, Eddie."

While Cletus was being abused by the people who were supposed to love him, you just know that part of the verbal whipping he had to endure included being called a 'burden' on the family, or even a 'cancer.'

"[You] deceived your trusting fiancée."

Outwordly, he blames everyone else for 'the rescuer' never making it to the 'connubial bed,' but he swore an owth to his own fiancée that he will find her. Inwordly, he blames himself for deceiving her by either letting her die, or letting her wait for him in that 'connubial bed.'

"And no wonder your daddy could never look at you again after you killed his wife, your mother."

Yeah, so according to his own confession, Cletus Kasady was the one to kill his mother. His father didn't want anything to do with him after he pulled that stunt.

[pvrvsitus-blog]

R U L E S

1. This ain't your daddy's symbiote, kiddies. There will be psychopathy, violence, gore, sadism, sex, all your basic shit for a baddie of Carnage's level. You know what this means. If you're under 18, don't come a knockin'. My blog is about 99% mature themes.

2. I am open to Marvel, DC, Comic and really any other verse that fits. If the story works, I am down for it.

3. Carnage/Cletus Kasady is. An absolute fucking villain. He's a psychotic, schizophrenic murderer. He is not someone to idolize in real life and I'm just throwing this out there. There will be several triggers. I will try to tag them the best I can but if there is something I haven't tagged that bothers you, let me know. I'm more than happy to tag it. Carnage is a piece of shit but I try not to be.

4. For the time being. My writing and Carnage's ships are not exclusive. He's new, I'm getting a feel for him, and as things stand I will treat every interaction as if it's in it's own verse.

5. Lets have fun, ok? We're here to write, not be assholes. No guilting, no call-out posts, no being a dick for no reason. I'm not going to tolerate any ooc drama or bullshit. Why waste our time on that when we can write juicy ic drama, amiright?

[venomous--fics]

Pairing: Eddie Brock/Venom x Kasady!Sister Reader

A/N: Day 14! I hope you guys enjoy this. Just having a weird fixation on writing for the Kasady!Sister reader right now.

Time seemed to just slip away as Eddie and Venom listened to Cletus drag on about what all he wanted out of this pathetic life. How he was owed something. Oh, how he was so deserving of a prize and yet the world still denied him. Felt a bit scummy to be using this son of a bitch for a newspaper headline, but Hell, at least he wouldn't be a problem for much longer.

"All I ever wanted was a family." Cletus said, doing his absolute best to gain Eddie's sympathy.

Eddie's face remained unchanged, "Had a funny way of showing that to the family you had, Cletus."

Cletus shifted in his seat a little. What fond memories he had, of course, to anyone living to tell the tale, they themselves weren't too fond of it.

"You killed your parents, your grandma," And the next words slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to filter himself, "You did some pretty awful things to your sister."

That sure did catch the murderers attention, "How is she, by the way."

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"Oh, Eddie," Cletus once again tried his best to gain any form of pity, "I'm a dead man, anyways. I feel like I deserve to know."

"I don't think you do."

"I hope she's doing well," He lied. Nearly scoffed at the thought of you having a good life. "Is she married? Have kids?"

"How am I supposed to know."

"You keep tabs on everyone."

"I talked to her once." Eddie lied, "And that was years ago. Don't even know if she's still alive to be honest with you."

"That's fair." Cletus turned to look down towards the chamber, "I guess I'll see her in Hell when I get there, huh?"

Eddie went dead silent, shifting his weight a little bit. That did not go unnoticed.

"Did I strike a nerve?" Cletus grinned, "Wasn't my intention."

"Sure it wasn't."

"I'd never want to hurt your feelings, Eddie. We're friends."

Not a friend worth noting. Is our time almost up, I'm getting really, really bored.

Eddie figured, this was one of the last times he was going to ever have to talk to this bastard again, so, what was the harm in tell him what he wanted to hear. Maybe it'd drive him nuts that you were better off. Maybe that'd send him into shock and they wouldn't even have to worry about the injections. Wouldn't that be a sight to see?

Eddie's phone began to vibrate, catching his attention. Cletus seemed to wait patiently, gesturing for him to answer his phone.

As if we needed his permission. What a self centered dick.

Eddie dug his phone out of his pocket, giving Cletus one last look before turning around to answer it, seeing that it was you calling. You rarely called while he was at work, so he knew either something bad or important was happening.

"Is everything okay?"

"Hi daddy!" Jamie chirped on the other end, "I wanted to see if you were busy. Are you busy?"

"A tad." Eddie said quietly, "Are you okay?"

"Yes." Jamie answered with the same exact tone.

"What are you doing?"

"Talking to you." She replied flatly, as if Eddie should've known that.

"Thank you." Eddie replied with the same sarcasm, and with a smile, "I meant what else are you doing."

"Well, I can't tell you. It's a surprise."

"Jamie," Eddie heard your voice in the background, "Have you seen my phone? I need to ask your dad if-"

"About the pizza, right?"

"Yeah, about the- You little snot."

"Can you call back in like five minutes?" Eddie asked, "I just gotta finish up this one last thing-"

"I can't. I'll be busy." Jamie cut in, "So, I thought I'd ask now."

"I- Yes, to the pizza. Whatever the context to that was, the answer is yes."

"He said yes."

"Awesome."

"Is that all? For right now?" Eddie asked with sincerity, "I should be home in just a little bit."

"I guess." Jamie said with her signature puppy dog tone, "If you promise."

"I promise."

There was a silence on the other end.

"Are you going to be okay after I hang up?"

Again, all the poutiness the small girl could muster came out, "I guess so."

"I swear I'll be home in thirty minutes. Why don't you set a timer?"

"I can do that." There was that eagerness in her voice again, "I'm really good at setting timers. Thirty minutes?"

"Exactly thirty."

"Exactly thirty." She repeated as if she was writing it down, "Got it."

"Here's your timer," Eddie heard your voice again, "I'll let you set it, little lady."

Cletus stood at the bars, as still as a statue, just eavesdropping. Eddie's a fool if he thought Cletus was actually going to sit and mind his business. The man was too nosy and obnoxious for his own good. Or, in some cases, to his advantage.

"Congrats." Cletus said, watching as Eddie fumbled with his phone, "Must be proud."

Butt out.

"Yeah." Eddie replied, suspicion evident in his tone.

Cletus leaned on the bars, acting as though they really were friends. He gave Eddie the side eye, "I used to have something like that. Then it got taken away from me."

"I'm sorry." Eddie seemed hesitant now.

"So whose the lucky person?" Cletus sneered at Eddie, "Or unlucky, in your case, Brock."

"Your sister," Eddie blurted out, immediately covering his mouth. He really hadn't meant to say it, but it was too late now.

"Oh?" This had Cletus' interest now, "You're kiddin' me."

"No."

Again, the words seemed to just come out on their own. Did the pettiness really take over? Was Eddie really taking the low road just because Cletus was also taking the low road?

"That's so nice to hear." Cletus just stared at Eddie, sick smirk plastered on his face, "Really nice to hear."

It was quiet for a second.

"So, that would make me an uncle." He seemed enlightened at the sound of the word, "I heard the voices on the phone. One of them was a child. So, yeah. I'm an uncle."

But there was something else lying below the surface, and Eddie knew that. Cletus didn't care, and he never would. He's a monster, no matter how human he tried to be. Eddie was kicking himself so hard right now.

"Unfortunately." Eddie replied, deciding to do his best to clean up the can of worms he just opened.

Cletus did everything he could to pry information out of Eddie. And Eddie thought if he just didn't say anything too specific, Cletus would get the hint. But you were right when you told him that Cletus was a very stubborn and tricky man.

"How old is the poor kid?"

"None of your business. I'm sorry I brought it up, can we discuss something else."

"None of my business?" Cletus took a step back, "I'm hurt. I thought I had a right to know."

Cletus approached the bars again, wicked grin on his face, "We are brother-in laws, after all. Isn't that right, Eddie? We're family."

"If I may," Eddie paused, fixing his posture, "Correct you, that is. You and I are not family. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Drat. Here I thought we were bonding and making up for lost time."

"I'm not going to pretend to like you just because of what's about to happen to you."

"Ouch." Cletus actually took a little offense to that comment, "Now I understand why nothing ever works out for you."

The oldest trick in the book. Nothing could get under Eddie's skin anymore, because he's had everything tried on him. Lies, manipulation- Cletus was just another name in his notebook. Come tomorrow, he'll be an after thought. And then? Nothing. Just, yet again, another name in a book that college kids will read and never think of again.

"I know what you're doing, and it's not going to work."

Cletus smiled as innocently as he could, "What am I doing? Hmm? Can't a poor soul like me just ask about his family? A family that you neglected to mention these last few weeks that we've been talking..."

"I didn't magically forget to tell you. I just didn't want to tell you."

"Why?"

"Do I really need to answer that?" Eddie raised a brow.

"Don't I deserve to know?"

"Again," Eddie seemed unamused, "Do I have to answer?"

Cletus began to feel an emotion that he hadn't felt in a long time. Jealousy. He was so mad at you for getting everything you wanted. It wasn't fair. You always got everything. Reality seemed to just disintegrate for Cletus. He was being put down like some sick animal while you got to grow old with your disgusting kid. He doesn't actually care if Eddie tells him or not, because Eddie Brock is a predictable man.

He always loses. Cletus knows that because Eddie's life is practically all public records at this point. He fucked up first first serious relationship by crossing lines that shouldn't have been crossed. That really nice cushy job that came with a tv show? Yeah, that got taken away. Oh and his poor mother...

"I bet I can guess the kids name." Cletus said, thinking this whole situation was just a silly little game. And it was to him.

"I bet you can't. And so what if you do."

"If I guess the right name-"

"You can guess but I'm not giving you anything."

Cletus knew the answer, again, Eddie was just too predictable. And he was certain you helped him pick it out. You were too predictable as well.

"If I was a man like you," Cletus stared Eddie dead in the soul, "What would I name my child."

"I just don't see why you're so fixated-"

"I'd name them after someone I cared about. Let's say, a parent."

Cletus saw the subtle way that Eddie tensed up. There was nothing that Eddie could give to him, all he truly wanted to was ruin his day. He just thinks it's funny. And if this was the last time he'd ever get to see his brother-in-law, he'd sure as hell raise some chaos.

"Stop it." Eddie stood up straighter, "Seriously, I'm not sure what the hell I'm supposed to tell you."

"Ah, you hate your daddy, so was it your mother?" Cletus asked, putting on a pout, "You trying to make it up to yourself for what you did? Is that it?"

Eddie didn't say anything. He really wasn't sure what to do say other than telling this son of a bitch to such his mouth.

"So, let me see the bigger picture." Cletus paced around his cell, "You marry my sister, by some unfortunate event, she has you kid- Who you named after the mother you killed, y'know, when you were born- For what?" Cletus kept eye contact with Eddie as he kept pacing, "You really want to sit here and call me a monster and think bad of me...When you're out there ruining everything you touch? At least I have the common courtesy to kill them first."

It remained silent. If Cletus wasn't talking, there'd be no noise.

"Who are you trying to win over? Is it really your daddy dearest? Because he hates your guts, that's why he can never look at you." Cletus snapped, "Get over yourself. Really. Look at you! First, again, need I remind you, you kill your mom, ruin your dads life... And now this?! Oh, how pathetic."

"I said stop."

There was a darkness in Eddie's tone. Sure, Eddie could be pissed off about this on the ride home, but Venom was another story. He knew how Eddie felt about all of that.

"How much longer before you screw this one over?" Cletus laughed, "I'd love to see. It's a real shame you've killed me. I'd love to watch you ruin this too."

"Shut. Up."

"If I wasn't a dead man, I'd sure as hell put an end to it myself!" Cletus was almost red in the face, "If I had it my way, I'd make you regret the day you put me in here! I'm going to make you pay. When I get out of here, I'm going to take everything from you-"

The front door opened and shut rather quickly and Eddie struggled to put his coat on the rack. He seemed to have blacked out. He's just come to and he's found himself at home. It's been a long while since that's happened. He didn't feel good about whatever had happened, but he'd rather just forget about it.

You and Jamie were sat on the couch, watching the news. Your daughter insisted that you two watch at least five minutes of it, and then you could find a movie. She just wanted to be like Eddie, so that meant absorbing every bit of real life information as she could.

He made his way to the couch, sitting down with no greetings. He really didn't feel good about this.

"Oh! He's here!" Jamie said, scrambling off the couch.

"The timer went off ten minutes ago." You said with a smile, "She was a little upset."

"Oh." Eddie replied slowly.

Jamie came darting back into the room, cookie in hand. It was frosted with chocolate icing and decorated with white chocolate chips. Eddie knew exactly who it was supposed to be, and Venom also knew- Obviously, it was a very good replication of his likeness.

"Just for you."

"Thank you."

She eagerly crawled into his lap and made herself comfortable, "I saw him on the news- And he looked cool."

"Oh really?"

You took the opportunity to scoot closer, ruffling your child's hair. She laughed as she playfully swatted your hand away.

The news was talking about the one person Eddie didn't want to be reminded of right now.

"Whose that?"

Looking at the picture of Cletus, Jamie felt a familiar feeling. People always told you that kids just knew, even if they didn't understand. And now Eddie wasn't sure what answer was the right one, but anything outside the truth would have to do. For now.

"A really bad person."

"Do you know him?"

"I wish I didn't."

Jamie tilted her head at the tv. If that was the case, he must've been a really, really bad person. Why else would dad not like him? He must've done something so terrible.

Taking note of Eddie's attitude change, you grabbed the remote, "Hey, let's see if something else is on."

Jamie nodded, looking up at Eddie. Was he okay? Should she ask?

The Brock household was quiet for a while. Jamie had fallen asleep in your arms, as she had crawled over into your lap because you had taken her original seat. You cradled her as if she was a newborn baby again. She was getting so big. She'd be graduating school if you kept blinking.

Eddie still had the cookie in his hand, and he was just staring at it.

Venom loomed over Eddie's shoulder, "My baby made me a cookie."

And just like that, everything else seemed to just go blank as Eddie honed in on that comment.

"Your baby?" He wanted to sound offended, "Your baby?!"

"Well, obviously." Venom replied, "Look. She looks just like me."

"Just like you?" Eddie asked.

"Hey," You stuck your nose into their couples spat, "If the seven foot alien thinks this is his baby, are you really going to fight him on it?"

"Yes." Eddie said, "I am."

Venom snickered as he used his tongue to scoop up the treat and devour it. He was proud to be, at least, some sort of honorary parent. He deserved that title at least.

"She's my baby." Eddie said defensively, wiping his hand on his shirt, "You didn't make her."

"You don't know that."

"I do know that."

You let the two bicker as you carried Jamie upstairs to her room. You knew something happened, but Eddie would never tell you. And you knew Venom could never lie, so, you'd just have to pester him.

"Prove it then." Venom said, nudging Eddie, "I bet you can't."

"I can and I will. I cannot believe we are having this discussion."

"I can believe it."

"We should be worrying- Wait a second."

"What."

"You did this on purpose."

"So what if I did. I don't like seeing you upset."

"We should be upset."

"Why."

"Because. Because...." Eddie had plenty of valid reasons, but it felt as though saying them wouldn't change anything.

Venom was not about to let up on his relentless teasing, "Either way it doesn't matter. She's still my baby and you're just jealous."

Again, Eddie mind went blank, "If you want a baby so bad, go make one yourself."

There was a wicked grin on his face.

"I didn't- You're gross."

You had returned a few minutes later only to beckon the two up to bed. Of course they followed you, turning off every light and locking the door.

"So, what happened today? Anything exciting?" You asked, standing at the top of the stairs.

"We got bit today." Venom said, almost thinking of it as a joke, "Well, Eddie got bit, I was just emotional support."

"You got bit?" You stared at Eddie, "Did you get checked for rabies?"

"Oh, haha." Eddie looked up at you, "It didn't feel nice, y'know."

"I know. Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood."

"On the bright side," Venom said, "At least that guy can't bother us anymore. So, think of the bite as a parting gift."

"He has a point." you said.

You gently rubbed Eddie's back as he walked to the bathroom. He seemed to move slower, and he seemed to take longer to do these mundane tasks. His brain was just too full of what if's about the whole ordeal, and no amount of whispered nothings would ease him.

Cletus was going to be dead in a matter of hours. Maybe everyone was right. He's not going to be a problem anymore. That's the best outcome he could hope for.

Truly, Eddie thought to himself, what is the worse thing to happen?

[hybistrophile]

“Damn must be nice to just sit around and suck tiddies all day huh?” - Cletus to his 1 month old baby and 5 seconds before reader socks him

The baby can barely hold their bright little eyes open, so that comment was for your ears. And, if you weren't so exhausted, if it weren't 4 in the morning, maybe you would've laughed at his tired, but still teasing, tone.

Cletus Kasady refused to give your baby any form of milk formula, but he did do his daddy duties and woke up for their nightly feeding sessions. Multiple. However, the hungry little devil had already devoured all the milk you'd pumped this morning. They were insatiable.

And, so, Daddy had to wake up Mommy.

"What do you care, huh?" He was embracing you from behind, one arm holding up your child as they latched onto your tit, and the other squeezing your hip. "All you do is sit around and suck tiddies all day."

You turned to give him the look, too sleep-deprived to smack him over his dirty mouth. In doing so, you were met with those smirking lips. They moved across your cheek and latched onto yours. "What do you think you were doing at their age, Cletus?"

"Crying my li'l lungs out," he sighed, trying to keep his smirk intact. "Pretty sure Momma slept like a log through it."

It wasn't the first time he'd brought it up, but it was the first time he sounded sad about it. He wasn't as indiferent to his mother's negligence as he wanted to seem.

After the baby was done with Mommy's breasts, looking more like an angel than a devil as Daddy laid them back in their crib, you didn't cover up. Not yet.

Resting the pillow against the headboard, you laid back against it, breasts out and arms raised. "Come here, Daddy," you called to him.

Cletus didn't come to you right away, so you called to him again. "Aren't you hungry?"

Once he laid his head against your chest and his lips latched onto your breasts, you heard him sigh in relief as his entire body seemed to relax for the first time that night.

[cletuscortlandkasady]

CARNAGE: FAMILY REUNION

PART 2/?

Check out the tag for further context.

Cletus said they couldn't save all of them, but he promised Frances that they would try.

"Couldn't talk any sense into the one in the doctor's shiny new arm," she sighed, prompting both the man and the symbiote crawling under his skin to squeeze her hands in theirs.

Red had tried calling out to the spawn that Hall Industries crammed into the circuits of Dr. Nieves' prosthetic, but that only got them to shove the arm into their mother's circular confinement. It's how she escaped, passing through the therapist's body and into her patient's like a sneeze. And it was both the woman and the symbiote who felt the sting of being rejected by what must've been a fetus in symbiote years. They comforted each other as they fled the facility as one.

Separating as soon as they were reunited with their man, Cletus Kasady (or John Doe as his jailers called him), they prepared to break out of another prison. Not before finding the other symbiotes Michael Hall had forced out of Red's unwilling womb. He'd pay for the way he treated them. All three of them.

"Won't listen to their mommas? They'll listen to their daddy, if they know what's good for them," Cletus - no, they were Carnage now - smirked as red tendrils slipped under the doors leading to what he claimed was Mikey's closet. "Ain't that right, boy?"

"FARTHAR," Doppelganger - their dear Doppy - was determined to be a good boy. Cletus had also lost his hind legs and they seemed to bond over it. After all, he had his two mother and a father back now. "FARTHAR," he bumped his forehead against Carnage's red thigh and purred when he finally got pet. "MAWWW."

Author's note: Confused? I don't blame you. Here's more information on Spider-Doppelganger.

"Go," his father forced the doors open. "Wake up your brothers and sisters. They've been sleepin' in."

Following in Doppy's frantic foot - hand, actually - steps, the pair stepped into what must've been the storage room. While it's true that all of the technology there was wearable and shone as prettily as Tanis Nieves' prostetic, it wasn't exactly a walk-in closet.

"Wakey wakey," Carnage called to the disembodied members mounted on the walls and suspended from the ceiling. "Kiddos, we got a big day ahead of us," he cackled as several limbs were launched at him by invisible hands. They didn't hit him, however, latching onto the suit Red shielded Cletus with instead. "Daddy's got a meeting with the mean ol' man who locked you up in here with no dinner and no TV."

As Carnage grew in height and width, he also grew grayer. And, if Doppy's worrisome whines were anything to go by, he also grew stranger.

Author's note: Check out Carnage's new look.

"What's gotten into him?"

"It's okay, Doppy," Frances shushed their spooked son. "It's still Daddy's under the new suit."

"FARTHAR."

Carnage bent one knee and beckoned him. "You did good, boy. Proud of you."

Her own anxiety was elevated when Carnage's new heavy hand was used to pet instead of punch. It was still Cletus and Red under that patchwork of prosthetics.

She approached him no longer apprehensive and wrapped her entire arm around his new bulging bicep. "Any of the kids awake?"

Carnage flexed and Frances felt. "Everyone's up, but it's more like a buzzing in my ear than a room full of screamin' preschoolers." He flexed again and she felt him up.

"They grow up so fast," the woman let her hands slide across the jagged symbiotic skin, soothing the voices she'd only heard while her and Red's minds were merged.

"They do," he whispered, but he couldn't be quiet with a voice so deep. And so heated. "Makes more than my heart grow three sizes." Standing up, he showed off the new height the growth spurt had grated him. And the long-lost third member the Carnage biomass had returned to with.

With her arm now hanging off of his forearm instead of holding onto it, Frances focused all her attention on the formidable hardness hanging between his legs. "Baby," she gasped, holding herself up by grabbing onto his other hand as it wrapped around her torso. Hers could only fully wrap around a single finger, and that made her knees buck against each other and her thighs squeeze together. "It's been a while," she swallowed, her mouth-watering.

Sliding his jaggernaut thumb down her stomach, he slowly parted her trembling thighs by penetrating the gap between them. "Baby, it's been too long."

"Yes." Frances fell back into the palm of his hand, her head hanging off of the side of his index finger. Her blood was pooling in her pelvis now, so her skull had been drained anyway. "Fuck yes," she sobbed when he started stroking her through the already soaked suit. "They pumped me full of pills, but I never forgot how g-good it hurt."

"I'll hurt you real good, darlin'," his new fearsome face hovered over her fidgeting form, feeding on every one of her moans. And she had been swooped off of her feet. "Sooner we get you all wet and slippery," he pressed the tip of it against her aching, through her pants. "Sooner we can move on to the main course."

"I'll take it all-"

"AIIIEEE!"

The sound of Doppy screeching snapped both of them out of their hot and hazy daydream and back into Michael Hall's storage unit where there's been a security breach.

"What's that, boy? We got company?"

"AIIIEEE!"

They had company.

Frances pressed her overheated forehead against his. It was still holding onto her. They were still holding onto each other. All three of them. "Fucking-"

"Not now, darlin'," Carnage breathed over her heaving chest and it burned. It hurt real good "Guests are arrivin'."

[hybistrophile]

Now that the pegging avanue has been open I feel like the opens this awakes the praise and mommy kink

Everyone, here's a hot take that should be lukewarm at best: Cletus Kasady has a mommy kink that pairs well with a small serving of praise kink.

Hell, he has a daddy kink, too. He gets a kick out of making Venom uncomfortable when calling him that, and gets off on being called that himself.

And those are two hot takes for the price of one.

Now, here are his kinks in action feat. our f!Reader:

• even before your first time together, he's been touching himself at the thought of you praising him; "Cletus, you're an artist with the clever," you watched him at work; "That's perfect, Cletus" you squeezed his arm while he skinned a carcass; "you're the best," you gushed at him doing a good job; he wanted to be good; so good for you;

• "good?" he looked up at you from between your bare thighs; his long fingers had just found that sweet, spongy, sensitive spot; his tongue had just finished toying with your clitoris, summoning a flood between your folds; "tell me how good it feels."

• "s-so good;" as you snatched his hair, a sound of surprise came from Cletus' mouth, but it sounded more like a child's; "sorry," you let go;

• "no," he protested, pushing himself up on his elbows and crawling up your torso; "don't stop;" when his face finally made it to the two mounds his mind spends all his time wondering, he pressed his nose between them and inhaled; "

• feeling his breath against your breast made your nipples turn to needles; arching your back, you pushed them up against his face; "you are;" capturing his curls with both hands, you pressed him down further, guiding his mouth to a perked peak which he wasted no time latching on to; "you're so good to me, Cletus;"

• even as he used teeth while suckling, you didn't berate him; you actually praised him for swipping his tongue across the stinging spot; you combed his hair back and kissed his forehead; "so good;"

• he moaned against your sweat and his saliva; your breasts were glistening under his mouth and they've never been more sensitive; he moved between them, greedy and giddy all at once; "I wanna be good for you; so good for you, mommy;"

• "you're so good to me, baby," you tossed your head back in bliss; "so good;"

[hybistrophile]

*chanting* peg him peg him peg him-

It wasn't the first time Cletus Kasady tried filling up both your cunt and your ass with his fingers. However, it was the first time he commented on it.

"So tight," he breathed against the nape of your neck, his chest pressing against your arched back which in turn pressed you further down into the mattress. "Never had boys slip in through the backdoor before, huh?"

Maybe you were drunk on the feeling, delirious, even. Maybe you wanted more, but didn't know how to ask. So you ended up stuttering: "H-have you?"

"Huh?"

"No," you cried when his fingers slipped out of your cunt and stopped circling the tight ring of muscles around your 'backdoor.' "Don't stop."

"What d'you say?" Cletus' hand came down hard on your asscheek and you squeaked. "You been fucked in the ass before?"

"No," you shook all over. "Same as you."

Flipping you over, he faced you. "Baby girl, I ain't never been fucked in the ass."

"M-me neither," you arched your back against the mattress. "Wanna try?"

"You want me to be your first?"

"You want me to be yours?"

"Huh?"

It was the first time Cletus Kasady has ever done anal. Your fingers didn't compare to his long and callous ones, but they were coated in copious amounts of lube.

"Fuck," he cursed into the crook of his elbow. He had to cover his face, but the blush spread across the entirety of his pale body. "Fuck, baby, where'd you learn to do that?"

From between his legs, you fluttered your lashes. "From you."

Then, letting him see the saliva sliding of your tongue and onto the head of his rock-hard cock, you curved your fingers at the periphery of his prostate. When he came, calling your name and uncovering his red face, you made sure he saw you caught it all in your mouth.

"You're killin' me, baby. Killin' me."

The first time you penetrated Cletus Kasady, you couldn't take your eyes off of the plastic toy he picked out for himself and how it disappeared inside of him.

"Where'd you learn to do that, baby?" Your voice trembled as you tried to match his timber. Wearing his clothes had made you feel like the phallic object was part of you, like your were Cletus Kasady. But watching him climb into your lap and start stroking the strap-on before sitting on it, you were reminded who was in control.

"From you." His voice was higher pitched, playful and perverse all at once. After nights of nothing but prostate massages, he had mastered the art of anal. "I learned it by watchin' you take my - I meaaan, daddy's cock - like a good li'l girl."

[hybistrophile]

Maybe if little Cletus be craftier he wouldn’t have gotten caught. Maybe reader would’ve been able to pull their shop out of the gutter and we could’ve dilf kasady! They’re lil baby would’ve been running around calling y/n “boss mama lady.” Get in trouble for yelling “fucking hog” at Barry (which lead to a very long convo of “what is appropriate to say around the baby.”) we would’ve Cletus trying his best to be a great papa

"Hey, just 'cause I didn't make it to the delivery room on time don't mean I'm not my own baby's daddy! Got a li'l caught up with servin' several life sentences, sure, but I'm here now!"

No, that line of dialogue isn't a spoiler, but it is a taste of what's to come.

Rest assured, Cletus would slip and use swear words around Baby Kasady. He would also be a proud papa to hear Baby use these swear words against men trespassing on his territory.