#(it’s the height difference between me n the platonic bestie)

[seraphemmes]

guess who’s back with the lesbians ever

[emptypassicn-moved]

^_^ 💖✨

From Understand My Ship in 5 Minutes.

Chatter about each one is under the cut because it got a bit long.

Mole & Pip

I honestly don't have a ton to say about them, even if this is just for fun 'n stuff, because they're not really a ship I ever think about and it's not a ship I really care for.

However, I can't help but find it a bit funny you filled one out for them considering in canon they'd probably just absolutely hate each other. Or, at least, would dislike one another quite a bit.

I don't personally know how your Pip would react to Mole or what he would think of Mole since I know some Pip writers ignore Pip's hatred of the French or have him "make an exception" for Mole. But I really can't see them getting along, even if your Pip wouldn't by default hate Mole for being French.

Their personalities feel like ones that wouldn't go with one another well, even just in them trying to be friends. I don't think they'd be unable to exist around one another but they definitely don't feel like two characters who would get along very well if they didn't end up outright hating one another.

But hey enemies to lovers arc I guess. /j

Herbert & Pip

Points. They. The roomies, the besties.

If anyone is to learn anything about me it is that as a Herbert Pocket enjoyer I also enjoy Pip and his dynamic immensely. They are "The Besties" to me and if anyone talks to me for too long they tend to get to hear me complain at least once about how the fandom tends to replace Pocket's existence as "The Best Friend" of Pip with Damien.

And I will admit Pipbert is a ship I do enjoy a bit and think about on occasion but I do tend to prefer writing them in a platonic fashion since their friendship is something I really enjoy. However, looking at what was filled out I can't help but be amused by the idea of it.

First off, I'm sorry but I am immediately just going "*points* short" at Pip. It amuses me that they are literally over a foot apart in height. Especially since most Pip writers I've interacted with never really have him below 5'6". The "squashes bugs" thing also sorta just,,, amuses me personally. Just the image of it.

Secondly, congrats on neither of these men being able to drive! Do not let them near a car.

Third, I actually expected more similarities between them or, at least, more of their markers to be a lot closer between them. I did expect some of the differences shown such as for the "jealousy level" meter, "relationship experience" part, or the "overprotective vs chill going" part. But I actually rather like the parts I didn't expect. I think it's nice that your Pip isn't totally what I expected but still exists in a way where I can go "Oh yeah, that's Pip". It also sorta just pleases me that while they are similar in some aspects on this that they're also clearly different since I do enjoy when Pip and Pocket are able to be pointed out as similar in aspects but clearly different from one another.

And, finally, since this joke should be expected. Oh my god they were roommates.

[themaskedwriter]

Fairytale Symbiosis (with a side of world domination, of course)

Platonic! Eddie Brock x reader, martial arts! Reader (who, for story purposes is short and a teenager.)

Warnings: swearing, body horror (a bit, pretty mild), symbiotes, martial arts, imprisonment, carnivores, inappropriate humor, basically anything from the movie Venom will apply here. VENOM SPOILERS

Synopsis: Y/N has always hated the entitled, world-destroying, no-soul types- and Carlton Drake fits that description perfectly. Naturally she sneaks into his lab intending to do some damage, but gets much more than she bargained for. This isn’t a war she can sit out of, not when world domination is at stake, so helping Eddie and Venom is the natural choice…for her. Her symbiote, however, may have other ideas.

CLUE: If adorable symbiote fluff isn’t what you’re looking for, I dabble in plenty of other fandoms- my blog is a pretty creative mix of many things, including my animals- one of which is referenced quite often in this little fic (little, by my standards, that is.)

word count: 2607. will probably be continued on my account, once revealed.

–

A Host. It needs a host- badly.

The containment tank walls are as bare as usual as it paces back and forth, sliding along the substance, slamming against it every few seconds. It’s hard to breathe in there: hard without a host.

Homeless, the Drake man calls them- the hosts he brings as offerings. Their fear when it takes over is palpable. The emotion leaves a taste in its mouth that drives it to the brink, but just as it thinks it will be satisfied, the body dies. The host dies. None of them have the fight in them that it requires.

“Open it.” Carlton orders as the newest prospect finally looks at it.

It slides out, creeping toward the human, the pheromones in the air enticing, empowering, delicious-

The back door to the lab slams open, admitting four security guards holding a girl between them.

It doesn’t look, just slips up the smooth cloth of the man’s pants. Beneath it, the human quivers in fear. It wishes it could drool…soon, soon, but the fear- the fear is so palatable, so tangible…

A shout. It pauses, looks.

The girl moves so fast the other humans have no chance, but to its trained eyes…

Jiu-jitsu, itthinks, karate, muy-thai, as the girl wraps her legs around the neck of one security guard, using her body to flip him onto the floor. Blood spurts as his head slams into the ground, but she’s unaffected, already moving. The second security guards’ arm breaks under her touch before the third shoots a taser into her back. Can’t be more than a youth, itthinks, noting the height and weight differences between her and the others. Not ideal…but that attitude, that skill…useful.

It absorbs into the host offered to him as the girl drops to her knees, fighting through the electricity to rip the taser cords from her back. Flesh is ripped as well, but she screams and throws a punch.

“Why did you bring her here?” Carlton Drake demands, watching the girl as she tries to get up on legs that waver. She glares daggers at him, spitting blood. He does not bother to flinch, doesn’t even smile when she’s physically restrained by the guards- who are more careful this time.

“We found her sneaking through the containment area, sir.” One says. He gives the girl a solid shake.

“I’m lost,” she growls, spitting blood once more. “Dunno how I got here. Dunno where here is.”

It can smell her lie. She knows exactly where she is.

“Kill her.” Drake commands, turning back to his experiment- to them.

“I want her.” Chaos snarls, its body and the humans’ flickering back and forth. Even as the body fails, even as it drops to the floor and the klyntar steps out of the crumpled skin, it watches her.

She hides her fear well.

Drake jerks his head and it’s done- she is dragged, incapacitated, into what it’s come to consider its cell, then thrown to her knees before it.

Chaos pulls itself up before her as the door closes, watching her body shake. She stares defiantly back at it, her fists clenched.

For a second, girl and symbiote watch each other. Drake, on the other side of the glass-like material, seems perplexed. Chaos, however, almost can’t do it.

As much as it’s always been the perfect soldier, even it has limits- and it can’t help but to think this girl is too pure for it, too innocent, too young. After all, where it comes from, the young are prized above all. it doesn’t want to take her if she doesn’t want to be taken. Her fear is unlike anything it’s ever smelled; it’s tinged with anger and resilience.

But it can’t wait any longer, it’s already gone too long without a functioning host, not some drugged-up addict whose body was bordering on death even without the klyntar.

Chaos, the largest and most deadly of the symbiotes, touches the girls’ hand gently at first, sliding from her fingers to her palm, up her wrist and forearm, to her bicep. She quivers, breathing hard and fast, but she does not scream. I do not want to hurt you, it whispers against her mind; she jerks at first, eyes widening in surprise. it can sense her thoughts going a million miles a second- she knows there is no fighting, but she has not given up. She’s already thinking of revenge. I do not want to do this without…how do you say? Permission.

Her quivering stops. Confusion replaces fear as it gives her a vision of what they can achieve together- it can already sense that she’s a perfect match- perfect as if born to it.

“No one has even asked before.” She murmurs, eyes darting up to Drake, who watches with fascination as Chaos curls around her arm. She takes a deep breath, lets it out through her teeth. Her gaze remains locked on Drake as she consents- then as Chaos slips into her body like a glove.

She screams in rage, its voice echoing hers as they fuse, symbiote and host, one.

“Chaos,” it growls through her mouth. “I am Chaos.”

Drake’s eyes light up like a child on Christmas morning, watching as Chaos envelops its new host, its perfect host. Her body, small but wrapped and corded in muscle, disappears under it as it takes over, protecting and defending her.

What now? She asks it.

Now we bond. Itreplies to her and her only, receding into her chest. Now we plan.

–

HUNGRY. it snarls, angry at everything. Caged…caged like a beast. Caged like a dog. Not a dog. NOT A DOG.

“Chaos,” you murmur, eyes closed as you meditate, “not helping.” Then, to the space between your minds, I’ve been caged too, remember? We will get out. We will get out of here and leave this place behind us, forever.

It goes eerily quiet.

What aren’t you telling me? It’s been three days, three long days since you were thrown into the cell, since scientists have started poking and prodding at you, watching you around the clock, monitoring your vitals. You feel like a lab rat and being so damn close to Carlton Drake isn’t helping; you’re within strangling range if you could just get out of there.

We will eat him first. Chaos says, dodging your question. You sigh. It’s always the same with it.

What happened to no secrets? You ask the klyntar -whose species had been revealed to you during a long, boring night- as it wraps around you, manifesting in coils like a snake.

This, itreplies, a hint of sadness to its gravelly voice, this I cannot tell you.

Outside of your cell, there’s movement. Drake.

Riot. Chaos growls, perking up.

“Let them out.” Drake commands. His words as their law, the scientist standing beside him does as asked and opens the door. You stand, Chaos guiding your movements as you stand before him. Your fingers twitch to be around his throat, the backstabbing, murdering, all around awful person- but Chaos recognizes the one it’s been trained to follow all of its life and so it holds you back.

Drake’s smirk makes Chaos’ control falter. “Hungry?” he asks, gesturing to the homeless man down the hall, oblivious to the conversation.

Chaos smiles, but you don’t. we can’t eat him, he’s innocent.

He’s food.

You thought I was food when you first saw me. Now we’re besties.

Silence. Then, we must do as Riot commands.

So you take orders from it without question? I thought you weren’t a dog.

It snarls, puffing up at your comment. I was born and bred to obey him.

You are your own being. No one can control you.

A pause. Isn’t that what you are trying to do, little human?

I am trying to help you. It’s not exactly easy.

It scans your mind, finding images of the unfortunate, the kids made homeless because of their sexuality, their gender identity, because of circumstances out of their control. It sees your own struggles, the perseverance. For a second, it thinks of how easily you accepted its pronouns, the tiny nuance to the English language it had deemed very important, thinks of your banter, your acceptance of another species in your body. It sees your drive, and something in the symbiote is moved by it.

You’re making me soft. Itmurmurs to you.

I’m giving you a conscience.

We must do whatever it takes to get out of here.

…fine. But I don’t have to like it.

It walks your body over to the homeless man, lets the human underestimate you. Lets him think you’re not a threat. Then it takes over, swiftly killing the human before it can feel any pain.

Compromise, it thinks, knowing Riot will never be able to tell the difference and wondering when exactly it became your protector instead of its leaders’. An ideal shift of that magnitude couldn’t’ve happened without notice, surely, except it did. And it cannot be bothered to care.

– Your chance comes quite quickly; with both Riot and Drake believing that Chaos is in control of you instead of just inhabiting your body, you are given all of the freedoms that the symbiote had on its home planet- and while you know you won’t have a chance at killing Drake, Chaos assures you that Venom (who recently escaped, hence the added security in the form of you,) would do quite nicely as a distraction. With its display of blatant disregard, Chaos was beginning to wonder if Riot’s concerns were, in the end, based in truth. Were the humans truly a dangerous species, despite all of the klyntar blustering? It curls inside your chest, a seething biomass, slowly learning your internal functions the same way it learned from the other hosts- the ones whose bodies attacked it at first contact- and it thinks that maybe, just maybe, humans may be worth saving.

Atleast one of them is.

Chaos keeps guard as you walk out of the front door of Carlton Drake’s building, unmolested by the guards who’d only recently thrown you into a cell. It watches, silently, bristling at every new sound, until you are blocks away.

“We made it,” you whisper as you stop, leaning against the brick façade of a building a mile from the lab.

We, Chaos murmurs questioningly, so quiet that you can’t hear. It wonders at the feeling in what would be its chest. We.

And just like that, you have the undying loyalty of a klyntar.

To your habitat then? Chaos asks you, snaking over your arms under the black jacket you wore. It coils around your wrists, squeezing gently before absorbing back into your skin.

You snicker. “It’s called a home, silly, but yes. Home.” For a second you walk toward your small loft apartment, but your steps quickly falter. Chaos senses your sudden apprehension.

We will pack what you need and leave, they will know where you live. We cannot stay long.

So you don’t stay.

–

Eddie Brock, once a journalist, is used to people thinking he’s insane. At least borderline. But he’s never been insane like this- looking over his shoulder every two seconds, knowing that Venom is right there, feeling the symbiote in his every blood vessel, every pore. It’s like tripping on acid, the feeling of the black sludge all over and yet nowhere.

“Whose idea was it, huh?” Eddie growls, head twitching to the side as if he were talking to someone who isn’t there- the action gains him a few odd looks, but he doesn’t really care, stomping down the street anyway. “The kiss, I mean.”

Not important, Venom says. How are we going to stop Riot? He has things we’ve never seen-

“Not my problem, V, I told you I was done after all of that-“

World domination isn’t your problem?

Eddie growls, turning into a side alley that cuts through to the next street over. It’s a long alley, long enough to be creepy, but he’s got a symbiote. What do the criminals have, guns? Laughable. He’s never been afraid of dark alleys anyway, not truly. “You or Anne? It had to be someone. There are plenty of other ways to get-“He cuts himself off as a small, hooded figure steps out in front of him. Venom is assessing before Eddie can even blink. “Can I help you?” She’s standing square in the way, hands in her jeans pockets, hood shading her entire face.

Food? Venom asks.

“No- Eddie snaps. The girl doesn’t flinch.

“You’re the one who needs help, Eddie.” She finally says, looking up at him. “With your little problem.”

Normally, when someone says that to him, it means he’s got an awkward boner- so naturally he’s surprised for a second, frowning at her as she stands there like it’s perfectly natural to accuse someone of indecency. He opens his mouth but doesn’t know what to say for a change, and Venom’s silence doesn’t really help. Finally, his mind catches up…somewhat. “What?” he splutters, walking quickly towards her. “Who are you?”

A few steps away, Venom breaks its silence.

Eddie, STOP.

And Eddie is pulled to a sudden halt, blinking at the unassuming teenager in front of him.

Venom envelops him in a heartbeat, leaving Eddie no time to protest the change. The girl, once again, doesn’t even blink- and that’s when Eddie understands. Riot? He asks his symbiote.

“Chaos.” Venom says to the small girl. “Why are you here?”

A grey-blue head manifests over her shoulder, staring up at Venom with those opalescent white eyes they all share. It’s all fangs, white veins webbing over it like scars. Even still, Eddie can’t help but notice that it’s severely less ugly than Riot. But then he sees the girl who the head is connected to, and he wonders why he didn’t see her in the lab. She would’ve been hard to miss, simply because she looks like she’d beat the crap out of anyone who stood in her way, simply by the steely gaze.

“Venom.” Chaos greets the klyntar. “It seems we have both found a host.” It squints. “Did you pull yours out of the trash?”

To its credit, Venom only shrugs. “If you are here to insult me, you can leave. I am perfectly happy continuing to ignore you.”

Chaos grins, a feral grin that somehow speaks of bloodlust. “We are here to help you defeat Riot.”

Eddie, inside of Venom’s protective shell, can feel the shock that rolls through his symbiote. “You?” Venom asks, deforming into just a head, mirroring Chaos himself. “But you’re-“

“Was. I was Riot’s right hand.”

“Literally?” Eddie squeaks, picturing that monstrous right hand separating itself into a pile of goo-

Venom wants to believe Chaos, it really does, but its seen the other klyntar in action, and finds it rather hard to believe that it could turn on its leader so quickly.

“I could’ve killed you fourty-three different ways by now.” Chaos helpfully points out. “But I haven’t. Because we have a common goal.” It glances at its host, who raises her hand to stroke down its cheek. Something unbelievably like love passes over the grey biomass. “I’ve found something worth rebellion.”

“Alright.” Venom says, darting its tongue over sharp teeth. “Where do we start?”

–

Later, when everything is said and done and Eddie is finally somewhat alone on his couch, staring at the wall in quiet contemplation, he only has one thought.

He takes a sip of his well-earned beer and sits back.

“So she’s got one up her ass too.”

[som3thingcr3ative]

Fairytale Symbiosis

It’s finally home! This was posted on the lovely @themaskedwriter ‘s blog, and now it is here on mine! Chapter two will be posted very soon!

Fairytale Symbiosis (with a side of world domination, of course)

Platonic! Eddie Brock x reader, martial arts! Reader (who, for story purposes is short and a teenager.)

Warnings: swearing, body horror (a bit, pretty mild), symbiotes, martial arts, imprisonment, carnivores, inappropriate humor, basically anything from the movie Venom will apply here. VENOM SPOILERS

Synopsis: Y/N has always hated the entitled, world-destroying, no-soul types- and Carlton Drake fits that description perfectly. Naturally she sneaks into his lab intending to do some damage, but gets much more than she bargained for. This isn’t a war she can sit out of, not when world domination is at stake, so helping Eddie and Venom is the natural choice…for her. Her symbiote, however, may have other ideas.

Tags are open!

A Host. It needs a host- badly.

The containment tank walls are as bare as usual as it paces back and forth, sliding along the substance, slamming against it every few seconds. It’s hard to breathe in there: hard without a host.

Homeless, the Drake man calls them- the hosts he brings as offerings. Their fear when it takes over is palpable. The emotion leaves a taste in its mouth that drives it to the brink, but just as it thinks it will be satisfied, the body dies. The host dies. None of them have the fight in them that it requires.

“Open it.” Carlton orders as the newest prospect finally looks at it.

It slides out, creeping toward the human, the pheromones in the air enticing, empowering, delicious-

The back door to the lab slams open, admitting four security guards holding a girl between them.

It doesn’t look, just slips up the smooth cloth of the man’s pants. Beneath it, the human quivers in fear. It wishes it could drool…soon, soon, but the fear- the fear is so palatable, so tangible…

A shout. It pauses, looks.

The girl moves so fast the other humans have no chance, but to its trained eyes…

Jiu-jitsu, it thinks, karate, muy-thai, as the girl wraps her legs around the neck of one security guard, using her body to flip him onto the floor. Blood spurts as his head slams into the ground, but she’s unaffected, already moving. The second security guards’ arm breaks under her touch before the third shoots a taser into her back. Can’t be more than a youth, it thinks, noting the height and weight differences between her and the others. Not ideal…but that attitude, that skill…useful.

It absorbs into the host offered to him as the girl drops to her knees, fighting through the electricity to rip the taser cords from her back. Flesh is ripped as well, but she screams and throws a punch.

“Why did you bring her here?” Carlton Drake demands, watching the girl as she tries to get up on legs that waver. She glares daggers at him, spitting blood. He does not bother to flinch, doesn’t even smile when she’s physically restrained by the guards- who are more careful this time.

“We found her sneaking through the containment area, sir.” One says. He gives the girl a solid shake.

“I’m lost,” she growls, spitting blood once more. “Dunno how I got here. Dunno where here is.”

It can smell her lie. She knows exactly where she is.

“Kill her.” Drake commands, turning back to his experiment- to them.

“I want her.” Chaos snarls, its body and the humans’ flickering back and forth. Even as the body fails, even as it drops to the floor and the klyntar steps out of the crumpled skin, it watches her.

She hides her fear well.

Drake jerks his head and it’s done- she is dragged, incapacitated, into what it’s come to consider its cell, then thrown to her knees before it.

Chaos pulls itself up before her as the door closes, watching her body shake. She stares defiantly back at it, her fists clenched.

For a second, girl and symbiote watch each other. Drake, on the other side of the glass-like material, seems perplexed. Chaos, however, almost can’t do it.

As much as it’s always been the perfect soldier, even it has limits- and it can’t help but to think this girl is too pure for it, too innocent, too young. After all, where it comes from, the young are prized above all. it doesn’t want to take her if she doesn’t want to be taken. Her fear is unlike anything it’s ever smelled; it’s tinged with anger and resilience.

But it can’t wait any longer, it has already gone too long without a functioning host, not some drugged-up addict whose body was bordering on death even without the klyntar.

Chaos, the largest and most deadly of the symbiotes, touches the girls’ hand gently at first, sliding from her fingers to her palm, up her wrist and forearm, to her bicep. She quivers, breathing hard and fast, but she does not scream. I do not want to hurt you, it whispers against her mind; she jerks at first, eyes widening in surprise. It can sense her thoughts going a million miles a second- she knows there is no fighting, but she has not given up. She’s already thinking of revenge. I do not want to do this without…how do you say? Permission.

Her quivering stops. Confusion replaces fear as it gives her a vision of what they can achieve together- it can already sense that she’s a perfect match- perfect as if born to it.

“No one has ever asked before.” She murmurs, eyes darting up to Drake, who watches with fascination as Chaos curls around her arm. She takes a deep breath, lets it out between her teeth. Her gaze remains locked on Drake as she consents- then as Chaos slips into her body like a glove.

She screams in rage, its voice echoing hers as they fuse, symbiote and host, one.

“Chaos,” it growls through her mouth. “I am Chaos.”

Drake’s eyes light up like a child on Christmas morning, watching as Chaos envelops its new host, its perfect host. Her body, small but wrapped and corded in muscle, disappears under it as it takes over, protecting and defending her.

What now? She asks it.

Now we bond. It replies to her and her only, receding into her chest. Now we plan.

 ~

HUNGRY. It snarls, angry at everything. Caged…caged like a beast. Caged like a dog. Not a dog. NOT A DOG.

“Chaos,” you murmur, eyes closed as you meditate, “not helping.” Then, to the space between your minds, I’ve been caged too, remember? We will get out. We will get out of here and leave this place behind us, forever.

It goes eerily quiet.

What aren’t you telling me? It’s been three days, three long days since you were thrown into the cell, since scientists have started poking and prodding at you, watching you around the clock, monitoring your vitals. You feel like a lab rat and being so damn close to Carlton Drake isn’t helping; you’re within strangling range if you could just get out of there.

We will eat him first. Chaos says, dodging your question. You sigh. It’s always the same with it.

What happened to no secrets? You ask the klyntar -whose species had been revealed to you during a long, boring night- as it wraps around you, manifesting in coils like a snake.

This, it replies, a hint of sadness to its gravelly voice, this I cannot tell you.

Outside of your cell, there’s movement. Drake.

Riot. Chaos growls, perking up.

“Let them out.” Drake commands. His words as their law, the scientist standing beside him does as asked and opens the door. You stand, Chaos guiding your movements as you position yourself before him. Your fingers twitch to be around his throat, the backstabbing, murdering, all around awful person- but Chaos recognizes the one it has been trained to follow all its life and so it holds you back.

Drake’s smirk makes Chaos’ control falter. “Hungry?” he asks, gesturing to the homeless man down the hall, oblivious to the conversation.

Chaos smiles, but you don’t. We can’t eat him, he’s innocent.

He’s food.

You thought I was food when you first saw me. Now we’re besties.

Silence. Then, we must do as Riot commands.

So you take orders from it without question? I thought you weren’t a dog.

It snarls, puffing up at your comment. I was born and bred to obey him.

You are your own being. No one can control you.

A pause. Isn’t that what you are trying to do, little human?

I am trying to help you. It’s not exactly easy.

It scans your mind, finding images of the unfortunate, the kids made homeless because of their sexuality, their gender identity, because of circumstances out of their control. It sees your own struggles, the perseverance. For a second, it thinks of how easily you accepted its pronouns, the tiny nuance to the English language it had deemed very important, thinks of your banter, your acceptance of another species in your body. It sees your drive, and something in the symbiote is moved by it.

You’re making me soft. It murmurs to you.

I’m giving you a conscience.

We must do whatever it takes to get out of here.

…fine. But I don’t have to like it.

It walks your body over to the homeless man, lets the human underestimate you. Lets him think you’re not a threat. Then it takes over, swiftly killing the human before he can feel any pain.

Compromise, it thinks, knowing Riot will never be able to tell the difference and wondering when exactly it became your protector instead of its leaders’. An ideal shift of that magnitude couldn't have happened without notice, surely, except it did. And it cannot be bothered to care.

Your chance comes quite quickly; with both Riot and Drake believing that Chaos is in control of you instead of just inhabiting your body, you are given all of the freedoms that the symbiote had on its home planet- and while you know you won’t have a chance at killing Drake, Chaos assures you that Venom (who recently escaped, hence the added security in the form of you,) would do quite nicely as a distraction. With its display of blatant disregard, Chaos was beginning to wonder if Riot’s concerns were, in the end, based in truth. Were the humans truly a dangerous species, despite all the klyntar blustering? It curls inside your chest, a seething biomass, slowly learning your internal functions the same way it learned from the other hosts- the ones whose bodies attacked it at first contact- and it thinks that maybe, just maybe, humans may be worth saving.

At least one of them is.

Chaos keeps guard as you walk out of the front door of Carlton Drake’s building, unmolested by the guards who’d only recently thrown you into a cell. It watches, silently, bristling at every new sound, until you are blocks away.

“We made it,” you whisper as you stop, leaning against the brick façade of a building a mile from the lab.

We, Chaos murmurs questioningly, so quiet that you can’t hear. It wonders at the feeling in what would be its chest. We.

And just like that, you have the undying loyalty of a klyntar.

To your habitat then? Chaos asks you, snaking over your arms under the black jacket you wore. It coils around your wrists, squeezing gently before absorbing back into your skin.

You snicker. “It’s called a home, silly, but yes. Home.” For a second you walk toward your small loft apartment, but your steps quickly falter. Chaos senses your sudden apprehension.

We will pack what you need and leave, they will know where you live. We cannot stay long.

So you don’t stay.

 ~

Eddie Brock, once a journalist, is used to people thinking he’s insane. At least borderline. But he’s never been insane like this- looking over his shoulder every two seconds, knowing that Venom is right there, feeling the symbiote in his every blood vessel, every pore. It’s like tripping on acid, the feeling of the black sludge all over and yet nowhere.

“Whose idea was it, huh?” Eddie growls, head twitching to the side as if he were talking to someone who isn’t there- the action gains him a few odd looks, but he doesn’t really care, stomping down the street anyway. “The kiss, I mean.”

Not important, Venom says. How are we going to stop Riot? He has things we’ve never seen-

“Not my problem, V, I told you I was done after all of that-“

World domination isn’t your problem?

Eddie growls, turning into a side alley that cuts through to the next street over. It’s a long alley, long enough to be creepy, but he’s got a symbiote. What do the criminals have, guns? Laughable. He’s never been afraid of dark alleys anyway, not truly. “You or Anne? It had to be someone. There are plenty of other ways to get-“He cuts himself off as a small, hooded figure steps out in front of him. Venom is assessing before Eddie can even blink. “Can I help you?” She’s standing square in the way, hands in her jeans pockets, hood shading her entire face.

Food? Venom asks.

“No-“ Eddie snaps. The girl doesn’t flinch.

“You’re the one who needs help, Eddie.” She finally says, looking up at him. “With your little problem.”

Normally, when someone says that to him, it means he’s got an awkward boner- so naturally he’s surprised for a second, frowning at her as she stands there like it’s perfectly natural to accuse someone of indecency. He opens his mouth but doesn’t know what to say for a change, and Venom’s silence doesn’t really help. Finally, his mind catches up…somewhat. “What?” he splutters, walking quickly towards her. “Who are you?”

A few steps away, Venom breaks its silence.

Eddie, STOP.

And Eddie is pulled to a sudden halt, blinking at the unassuming teenager in front of him.

Venom envelops him in a heartbeat, leaving Eddie no time to protest the change. The girl, once again, doesn’t even blink- and that’s when Eddie understands. Riot? He asks his symbiote.

“Chaos.” Venom says to the small girl. “Why are you here?”

A grey-blue head manifests over her shoulder, staring up at Venom with those opalescent white eyes they all share. It’s all fangs, white veins webbing over it like scars. Even still, Eddie can’t help but notice that it’s severely less ugly than Riot. But then he sees the girl who the head is connected to, and he wonders why he didn’t see her in the lab. She would’ve been hard to miss, simply because she looks like she’d beat the crap out of anyone who stood in her way, simply by the steely gaze.

“Venom.” Chaos greets the klyntar. “It seems we have both found a host.” It squints. “Did you pull yours out of the trash?”

To its credit, Venom only shrugs. “If you are here to insult me, you can leave. I am perfectly happy continuing to ignore you.”

Chaos grins, a feral grin that somehow speaks of bloodlust. “We are here to help you defeat Riot.”

Eddie, inside of Venom’s protective shell, can feel the shock that rolls through his symbiote. “You?” Venom asks, deforming into just a head, mirroring Chaos himself. “But you’re-“

“Was. I was Riot’s right hand.”

“Literally?” Eddie squeaks, picturing that monstrous right hand separating itself into a pile of goo-

Venom wants to believe Chaos, it really does, but it has seen the other klyntar in action, and finds it rather hard to believe that it could turn on its leader so quickly.

“I could’ve killed you forty-three different ways by now.” Chaos helpfully points out. “But I haven’t. Because we have a common goal.” It glances at its host, who raises her hand to stroke down its cheek. Something unbelievably like love passes over the grey biomass. “I’ve found something worth rebellion.”

“Alright.” Venom says, darting its tongue over sharp teeth. “Where do we start?”

 Later, when everything is said and done and Eddie is finally somewhat alone on his couch, staring at the wall in quiet contemplation, he only has one thought.

He takes a sip of his well-earned beer and sits back.

“So she’s got one up her ass too.”