#Cesar Oliveira Cohen

[miscellaneoussmp]

I think it is absolutely hilarious that Cesar is so incredibly lucky to not take any damage from creatures or npcs but is also so incredibly unlucky to dislocate his knee kicking open a fucking door.

[teamoon7]

🇧🇷: Esses aqui (de 2021) foram uma tentativa de fazer uns icons

🇺🇸: Those (from 2021) were an attempt to make some icons

[saiiboat]

some bi ordem pfps :333 alternative joui below the cut

free to use without credit as long as you dont claim as yours o7

[louissatturi]

This dialogue is gayer then hardcore gay sex

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMjs7DDyB/

[Kaiser]: don't you want to come over? We will drink at the bar

[Joui]: my body is a tample, you know that

[Kaiser]: Oh this is what you say but like it wasn't always a tample

[no-wings-no-angel]

VEIO AÍ, MEUS KAITHUR QPR

Eu tardo, mas não falho! Finalmente postei meu oneshot dos Kaithur!

É queerplatônico. É 8k. É um leve hurt/comfort (mais comfort do que hurt). É muito pensamento matutando na cabecinha deles. O lugar mais quente, mais confortável e mais seguro do mundo, vindo ao AO3 mais próximo de você!

Cesar tá passando por uma crise nas últimas semanas e depois de dias de silêncio, finalmente o Arthur consegue intervir. Eles precisam ser sinceros sobre algumas coisas.

É bem doméstico, eles fazem uma faxina, eles conversam, fumam, o Cesar até lava o cabelo. Eu empaquei bastante em várias partes durante a escrita, não tô completamente satisfeita, mas se eu não postasse agora não postava nunca! Tá aí pra quem quiser ler!

Eu sei que esse é o tumblr e tá bem longe de ser o buraco que é o twitter, mas se não gostar do ship ou de fanfics em geral, não leia e não encha o saco. Bloqueie as tags e simplesmente não se engaje com conteúdo que não gosta mas não é nocivo pra ninguém. É bem fácil. Eu nem devia precisar falar desse tipo de coisa, mas só pra desencargo de consciência.

[cohenmitadas]

cada dia mais perto da morte do kaiser em desconjuração... não sei se tenho psicólogo pra isso.

[factorialsotherfandoms]

OSNF Battleships fic for the always wonderful @echotunes ! Spoilers up to and including episode 4 of OSNF. Mild canon divergence. Angst. Much angst. Hurt/No Comfort even.

Nothing In This World

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ordem Paranormal (Web Series) Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Cesar Oliveira Cohen & Christopher Cohen, Cesar Oliveira Cohen & Cláudia Oliveira, Christopher Cohen/Cláudia Oliveira, Cesar Oliveira Cohen & Christopher Cohen & Cláudia Oliveira Characters: Cesar Oliveira Cohen, Christopher Cohen, Cláudia Oliveira Additional Tags: Campaign 02: O Segredo na Floresta, Parental Death, Canon Major Character Death, injured child, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt No Comfort, Bullying, Child Abandonment, Terminal Illnesses, Relationship Study, Character Study, Spousal Abandonment, Family, Complicated Relationships, 3+1 Things Summary: 3 times Cesar wanted for his father, and one time he had him.

Unusually, the lovely Peasina (tumblr unknown) also podficed this, which you can find here if you would rather listen to it!

Cesar is twelve when he last sees his father, not that he knows it at the time. It's breakfast time and he, already hated at school for his nerdy ways, eats slowly at the table. His mother is quietly folding laundry while his father sits with him, regaling him with tales aplenty.

"- And then your Uncle Arnaldo raised his sword high, until the sunlight glanced off the blade," his father tells him. "With a great swipe he brought it down, cutting the heads from the hydra and laying the beast low!"

Even at twelve, Cesar knows that the story is simply a recitation of a film; usually Uncle Arnaldo works in action movies, but before he could be fussy he worked on fantasy films too.

His mother says that just like Uncle Arnaldo had to work fantasy films until he was older, so too does Cesar have to attend all of his classes, not just the interesting ones. Calls him a fussy flower - perhaps an orchid.

Today will be a boring day at school - and, worse, one with gym class. Still, he knows better than to be late. He stops listening to the story and starts properly eating his cereal, before abandoning the table to find his bag.

Once he does, at the door, he finds his father, not his mother, waiting there.

"I'm meeting your Uncle Arnaldo this morning," his father tells him. "I thought maybe I'd walk you...?"

Cesar grins and hugs his father. Sticking his head around the door he calls a goodbye to his mother, and earns a blown kiss for his efforts, before hand in hand heading to school.

"Have a good day," his father tells him at the gates. "I'll see you this evening, okay?"

The kiss on his forehead is almost worth the teasing from the other children. Cesar grumbles about it, knowing what will follow, and is too embarrassed to wave as he comes inside.

He regrets it, that night, when his father does not come home.

He regrets it the next week, when he realises he never will.

He stops regretting it after a month, when a shell of bitterness finally constructs itself around the pain.

---

One time when Cesar is around fourteen, he is called to the principal's office. The anxiety attacks are common now, but receiving a black eye and bloody nose for the crime of having one is a rarity. Bruno is sick today, leaving Cesar alone amongst the class. He hopes his friend is okay; even holding the tissue beneath his nose he's glad the other boy isn't getting suspended over him. Again.

"-if you would just consider a divorce and remarrying-" he hears the principal's voice from between the doors.

Whatever the end of the sentence or his mother's reply is, Cesar is not sure. He hears the tone of her trying to placate the man, and the laughter of the other mother in the room. He knows what it is. He has known what it is for two years now. At first people were sympathetic to the plight of a single mother abandoned by her foreign husband, but now... It's not only the other kids at school who hate that his father is missing.

When his mother leaves the principal's office, even Cesar can see how exhausted she is. Still she comes, and kneels before him, brushes his cheek and gently tells him “come now, petal, let's get you some ice for that” even as the other parents laugh through scolding their son.

Cesar's mother hugs him, and he hugs her back, and he sticks himself close to her side - hiding beneath her arm and her coat like a much younger child as they make their way home.

---

Only five years later, Cesar's mother dies. She had been slowly sickening for months, refusing to worry her son - away at university on the last of his father's money - but he could tell all the same. The rearranged phone-calls, the suspicious pauses for her to cough, the way her voice grows fainter and fainter over time.

He is lucky, he supposes, to be there when she dies. He flies back in time to see her again, to hold a frail hand and help her cup his cheek. He cries for her, and begs for her to stay, to not leave him, to not abandon him like everyone else.

She promises not to, but in the end she is not strong enough to stay.

The next day she dies with him at her side, in pain and struggling to breathe. It is a painful, horrific death, the sort that haunts his thoughts for years to come and yet never allows the memory to fully form. The doctors and nurses are gentle with him, in a way nobody but his parents and Bruno have ever been before. They help him through the paperwork, and the anxiety attacks, and the legalities...

But once the body leaves the morgue, any assistance they offered is gone. To the next grieving relative, to the last only son.

And then, everything is on him.

The Churchyard will not bury her under her married name, refusing to believe she is legitimately married to famous stunt actor Christopher Cohen. Desperate Cesar tries to solve it - he finds his father's agent, tells him what has happened, asks for him to come. The funeral, at least - surely he would come for his wife's funeral? At least send a letter confirming that she was his?

He begs for his father in that email pours seven years worth of anguish and hopelessness onto the page, desperate for anyone to cling to as the world falls apart beneath his feet; Bruno is gone, by then - Cesar does not know where, only that his best and only friend has been missing for two years. His mother is gone, having died but a few weeks ago. His father...

There are many people at the service, acquaintances and friends from a life of kindness and charitable work. Only three - Cesar, the priest, and his next door neighbor - stay until the grave is covered.

Only Cesar stays, carefully burying half a packet of violet seeds over his mother's grave and watering them with his tears; his father is a busy man, and it cannot be easy to come from America, but surely he will come for this? Come when his wife is dead and his son begged him so?

And so he waits, and he waits, just like a twelve year old boy waited all night for his father to return. The other half of the seeds he saves for his father, because surely he too will want to plant his mother’s favourite flowers on her grave? The graveyard keeper comes and goes, leaving Cesar be when he sees the dates on the temporary marker and the age of the sobbing boy before him.

Night falls and dawn rises, and still his father does not come.

It's there and then, under the first rays of dawn and at his mother's freshly covered grave, that Cesar decides that he does not have a father any more, and that Christopher Cohen means nothing to him.

---

On the 11th April 2020, the Order assigns Cesar his first mission. At that meeting with his mission briefing, he, now thirty years old, lays eyes on Christopher Cohen once again - older, more scarred, but unmistakably the man who sired him. It goes poorly, the team will think badly of him now, but... There is work to be done and, even as he has to brave an uber, he refuses to be the link that causes them to fail.

Arriving at the airport, Cesar sees nobody. He pays his uber, fights his suitcase from the boot, and starts searching for the correct part of the terminal.

"My boy! Wait!"

Hears Christopher calling, and keeps walking. His boy? His boy? His father abandoned any right to call him that the moment he walked out of their lives eighteen years ago. Did he even know about his mother's death?

Did he even care?

A hand catches on Cesar's shoulder, and he knows that he will never win. He stops, but he refuses to look, staring firmly at a broken brick on the building across the street.

"Cesar, my boy-" Christopher - Chris, his father; who is Cesar kidding, the man will always be his father - says.

"What." Cesar cannot help but snap the word; eighteen years. It has been eighteen years, two months, and seven days. It is the 11th of April 2020; the last time he saw his father was the 4th of February 2002. His mother is dead, died during that time, when Cesar was 19 and alone and desperate - and his father did not even call for him then. What right has he to do so now? Now, when Cesar has finally, finally found his feet, found something that might be worth doing with his life.

"Cesar, please," Christopher tells him. "Just hear me out."

Cesar does not want to hear him out, not when he showed Thiago more affection than he did his own son. Still, he knows well enough that, even in his old age, Christopher Cohen can outrun and outfight most men.

So, he stays still.

"Thank you," Christopher says, as though Cesar had agreed. "Look, my boy- Cesar. Just promise to listen to me, alright? If I tell you to run, you run and you keep running and you never look back. You abandon this - all of this - and it'll be okay."

Cesar remembers his father's fury when he spotted him at the meeting, the way he turned on their brief as soon as he did. Not wanting him there, demanding an authority he forsook, saying he only agreed to join to keep him and his mother safe.

Pity, then, that Cesar is already involved, and his mother is dead.

"No," he tells him, with nearly two decades of grief and bitterness in his tone. "You are eighteen years too late to make demands of me like that. I will not just... abandon the mission, just because you think I should be loyal."

"Please," Christopher's voice cracks. "Arnaldo, everyone- you'll die. Don't ask me to bury you, Cesar, please."

"What, like you buried your wife?"

Cesar turns as he says the words, snarling slightly as he twists. A lonely funeral, a lonelier grave, a basket of violets and one nineteen year old in his long-vanished father's suit. Where was Chris, when it mattered? Where was his father, whenever Cesar needed him?

... In America.

He refuses the instinct to say sorry, brushing the hand from his shoulder as Christopher stares at him.

Now that he can see around his father, it seems that the other three are heading towards their meeting point. They do not notice the pair, busy talking - being happy, smiling and laughing about whatever they are saying. Cesar makes to join them, but is caught by his father's arms instead.

"I'm sorry, my boy," Christopher tells him, the tears apparent in his voice. "It wasn't fair- I just wanted to keep you safe. I just want to keep you safe."

Cesar stands stock still, refusing to cooperate as his father hugs around him.

"Let me keep you safe, boy," Christopher tells him. "That's all I've ever wanted - for you to be safe."

"And you've failed it every day," Cesar still does not acknowledge the hug around him - the first time since he was twelve that his father has touched him. His body wants to sob and scream and melt, but he will not, will not let it. His father is trying, so try back, that one man had said? It will take more than a few hours for Cesar to be willing to overlook what he has done.

Abandoning him, abandoning his mother, leaving a single mother with a teenage son alone on the streets of Brazil. Oh, sure, he paid off the house, and left her some savings, but what of it? All people saw was a woman tricked by a rich foreigner, and ridiculed them both for it.

A few hours of treating his now thirty year old son like a child cannot ever make up for the eighteen years, two months, and seven days of not being there.

It is not something that Cesar can ever forgive him for - not the years of his childhood burnt and broken, nor the gaping void in Cesar's soul, nor the way that, even as she was dying, his mother would look longingly out of the window and await her husband's return.

But, Cesar supposes, his father is correct about one thing - the paranormal is dangerous, and people will die if they are not careful. Perhaps people will die even if they are; they are a team of five, but the one they are searching for had trained and worked together since their teens. This is Cesar's first mission, and his father's too - he does not know about the others, but...

If they do not work together, then it is the other three who will suffer.

"I will listen," Cesar concedes, even if only in the name of the mission. "If I do not agree I will not do it, but I will listen."

His father hugs him tighter, and it is the first time in eleven years that Cesar has been held at all.

He is not actually sure if he would remember how to hug back.

"Alright, son," Christopher whispers. "Alright. Just be safe."

"I did not come here to die, if that is what you're worried about."

It seems to do the trick; Christopher lets go.

Immediately Cesar misses his arms, but he will not give in to that.

"Thank you," Christopher says, one last quiet phrase before he slaps Cesar on the back and his voice returns to its normal, booming din. "Now get yourself in there and talk to the youngsters, I'll just get my bag!"

Cesar considers waiting, and he certainly is not going to socialise, but... Well, he walks on ahead anyway. He can at least follow that much of the instruction.

---

On the 13th of April, just two days later, Cesar kneels in the mud outside of a biker bar. Before him lies a grave, marked with a wooden cross, a photo of Liz's mother, and the pocket watch of Thiago's father. Nothing marks who the grave truly belongs to, not as Cesar kneels in the rain, and cries, and listens to the screamed words "Son, I love you" echoing again and again in his ears.

A coat is wrapped around his shoulders. Cesar clings to it, not hearing the words that anyone says.

"Son, I love you" "Son, I love you" "Son, I love you"

Cesar was angry, and hurting, and wounded; he wanted the man to suffer, but he never wanted his father to die.

He presses his forehead to the soil, the sobs overwhelming his body. He cannot hold himself up, he cares not for keeping himself dry, he can only cry.

Why, why did his father have to be so stupid? Why did he have to sacrifice himself? Why did his father choose to die?

All Cesar ever wanted was for his dad to come home, surely, surely he knew that?

"Dad," he sobs, barely audible between the rain and his tears. "Dad, I love you. I love you. Please... just come home."

[venomizedstar]

So, to everybody who got interested in Ordem Paranormal and don't speak português: The first two seasons have official english subtitles!

Just to say, no one watches the first season bc its kinda bad BUT you can watch if you want, or you can wait for the comic book to have a translation.

The players and characters in the first season are:

Gabi as Elizabeth Webber

Luba as Daniel Hartmann

Rakin as Thiago Fritz

LJoga as Alexsander Kothe

I started watching the series in the second season, and this season is one of everyone's favorites! The players and characters are:

Gabi as Elizabeth Webber

Rakin as Thiago Fritz

Guaxinim as Arthur Cervero

Luba as Joui Jouki

Calango as Cesar Oliveira

LJoga as Christopher Cohen

Edit: @humanaaaa said theres a "Does the dog dies?" for each season so if you need, you can search there!

[lilacsarebloom]

Ok gente não me ataquem por favor

Eu tenho que explicar algumas coisas para vocês que fizeram pedidos e para outros que vierem no meu perfil no futuro.

Por favor, leiam tudo antes de pedir algo.

Por mais que eu gostaria, não consigo escrever para fandoms das quais não gosto ou não sou parte, então deixarei aqui os personagens para qual escrevo e algumas outras coisinhas importantes.

Detalhe importante, o wattpad está recheado de histórias normais sobre esses personagens, então por preferência minha, meu perfil aqui está reservado apenas para histórias de romance mais "dark" ou "yandere" (Yandere = romance obssessivo e abusivo, anormal e doentio.) Se quiserem histórias mais comuns, fiquem a vontade para pedir no meu wattpad [nick: PercyLikesGreen]

Primeiro de tudo, minha fandom no momento é Ordem paranormal e a fandom do Cellbit no geral.

Se algum de vocês fez algum pedido para um personagem que não se encontra nessa lista abaixo, não vou escrever para esse personagem, sinto muito, por favor faça outro pedido para os personagens especificados abaixo, se quiser.

Se algum de vocês fez algum pedido para um personagem que (atenção coisa específica) está nessa fandom mas eu ainda não cheguei no episódio do personagem em questão, sinto muito, POR ENQUANTO não vou poder escrever para esse personagem, mas você ainda pode pedir outro personagem (se quiser) e esperar até que eu escreva para seu personagem pedido.

No momento escrevo para;

Ordem paranormal primeira temporada.

O Mestre (faça oque quiser com essa informação).

Thiago Fritz.

Elizabeth Webber.

Agatha Volkomenn.

Daniel Hartmann.

Senhor Veríssimo.

Alexsander "Alex" Kothe.

O segredo na floresta.

O Mestre (faça oque quiser com essa informação).

Thiago Fritz.

Joui "Joe" Jouki.

Elizabeth Webber.

Cesar Oliveira Cohen.

Arthur Cervero.

Brúlio Cervero.

O Ferreiro.

O Ajudante.

O Porteiro.

O Hoteleiro.

Agatha Volkomenn.

Senhor Veríssimo.

O segredo na ilha (Até o episódio 6).

O Mestre (Faça oque quiser com essa informação).

Milo Castello.

Miguel Castello.

Bárbara Lima.

Amelie Florence.

Olivier Florence.

Wanderley "Wandebas" Nascimento.

Cavalcante Bueno.

Helena Gama.

Ordem Paranormal Desconjuração.

O Mestre (Faça oque quiser com essa informação).

Tristan Monteiro.

Joui "Mascarado" Jouki.

Cesar "Kaiser" Oliveira Cohen.

Arthur Cervero.

Erin Parker.

Senhor Veríssimo.

Agatha Volkomenn.

Beatrice Portinari.

Elizabeth Webber.

Dante.

Henri.

Gal Sal.

Anthony Scelto.

Kian.

Luciano Carvalho.

Fernando Carvalho.

Clarissa Leão.

Ike.

Rubens Naluti.

Jhonny Tabasco.

Bruno.

Ordem Paranormal Calamidade (Até o episódio 6)

O Mestre (faça oque quiser com essa informação).

Agatha Volkomenn.

Clarissa Leão.

Arthur Cervero.

Senhor Veríssimo.

Dante.

Carina Leone.

Rubens Naluti.

Antônio "Balu" Pontevedra.

Joui "Mascarado" Jouki.

Artemis Deordelin Rodrigues.

Boris Lukic

Gal Sal.

Kian.

Damir Lukic

Amalia.

Celestine.

Faustus.

Marius.

Remus.

Ordem Paranormal Relíquias.

O Anfitrião.

O Diabo.

O Deus da Morte.

A Magistrada.

Ordem Paranormal Sinais Do Outro Lado (Até o episódio 4).

O Mestre (faça oque quiser com essa informação).

Alexandre "Xande".

Francisco "Chico" Albuquerque.

Lírio Tellini.

Guilherme "Guizo" Santos.

Dara Venturini.

Senhor Veríssimo.

Arnaldo Fritz.

Extra.

Cellbit.

As relíquias.

Cellbit de 2017 (sim, pode pedir os cellbits dos enigmas ou alguma loucura e teoria que você pensou ou até o Paulinho do Internet o Filme kkk).

Oque eu escrevo.

Personagem cannon x Você.

Leitores masculinos, femininos e não binários.

Leitores que usam qualquer pronome.

Cenários fora da timeline da história principal.

Cenários platônicos.

Oque eu não faço

Qualquer fandom da qual não estou interessado no momento.

Personagem cannon x Personagem cannon.

Personagem maior de idade x Personagem menor de idade. (romântico)

Meio termo (talvez eu faça ou talvez não, depende de muitas coisas.)

Hot (depende dos "kinks" que você pedir)

Se eu estiver demorando para fazer seu pedido (que está de acordo com as regras), existem 3 possíveis motivos para isso:

1 ‐ Estou cansado dessa fandom, ou seja tenho bem menos motivação e inspiração para escrever para ela, meu interesse nela pode ou não retornar eventualmente.

2 - Estou trabalhando em outros pedidos no momento.

3 - Estou dando uma pausa na escrita para resolver outras coisas em minha vida.

Lembre-se, minha vida não se resume a escrever, na verdade, eu escrevo por hobby, se eu sentir que estou sendo apressado ou pressionado a escrever, ha uma grande probabilidade de que eu demore mais ainda para escrever ou até desista de terminar seu pedido.

Você não é especial, existe uma fila e você não tem prioridade nela.

Eu tenho um limite do que eu conheço de certos personagens, ou seja, alguns deles podem ficar OOC (Out Of Charater ou fora de personagem).

É isso galera, fiquem a vontade para pedir a partir de agora.

[villapelicanos]

◜» 𝒕 𝒓 𝒐 𝒄 𝒂 𝒔

hunter hyuk min-ho (ex belchior freitas) — agora se aparece com kim min kyu. stefan ilyan (ex stella sales) — agora se aparece com cesar domboy francisco oliveira  — agora se parece com chay suede roman mattson — agora se parece com oliver jackson cohen

henry zaga, julia dalavia e alexander skarsgård estão liberados. 

[fofurinhaz]

“o que é desconjuração?? um grupo? uma criatura? um ritual? eu preciso impedir eles. por aqueles que vivem. por aqueles que morreram.”

[teamoon7]

🇧🇷: Umas artes antigas do twitter (2020-2021)

Essa primeira do Kaiser era um gif, porém infelizmente perdi o arquivo no celular antigo :/ e não sei salvar gif do twitter

🇺🇸: Some old twitter art (2020-2021)

That first art was a gif, but unfortunately I lost the files from my old phone :/ and idk how to save gifs from twitter

[biltchibo]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Fandom: O Segredo Na Floresta (RPG)

Relationship: Joui Jouki/Cesar Oliveira Cohen

Additional Tags: Fluff, eh soh fofura aqui gente, decidi escrever 3 mil palavras pra deixar meus amados descansarem, completamente fora da realidade do rpg pq o mestre é bicho ruim, bingo clichê: fake dating, Spoilers, tem spoiler do rpg não leia se não viu todo, classificação T por causa do tema do rpg

Summary:

"Depois de sair do cemitério (episódio 7) o grupo decide que tiveram o suficiente de emoção por um dia. Eles saem da cidade e se alojam em um hotel, procurando paz por uma noite.

Ou: Joui e César dividem um quarto e lidam com a carga emocional da missão."

[vm4vm0]

L'Homme Statue - Do Not Tell Me - Pedro Tejada & Marcello Costa from Stink São Paulo on Vimeo.

Music and Performance: Löic Koutana / L'Homme Statue

Directed by Pedro Tejada and Marcello Costa

Produced by Stink Films

Managing Director: Ingrid Raszl

Senior Executive Producer: Renata Dumont

Director of Photography: Maurício Padilha

Production Designer: Ana Henriques

Production Coordination: Paula Macedo, Rogerio Maestro

Production Coordination Assistants: Mariana Kerche, Amanda Grell

Producers: Rica Ferrer, Rose De Soldi and José Lucas Gervasio

Locations: Edu Lima

Post Production Coordination: Roberta Bruzadin and Marcella Antunes

Editor: Victor Cohen

3D Artist/RD: Pedro Tejada

LookDev Artist: Pedro Merino

Animator: Marcello Costa

VFX / Flame Artist: Diego Morone

Color Grading: Matt Osborne @ Company3/Mill Color Grading: Assistant: Logan Highlen @ Company3/Mil Color Producer: Blake Rice @ Company3/Mil Color Grading (Aerial Footage): Osmar Jr.

Musical Producer and Mixing: Pedro Zopelar

1st Camera Assistant: Alexandre Valese 2nd Camera Assistant: Alfredo Luiz Dias Baptista Desio Video Assist: Dario Vales DIT: Allan Souza de Almeida

3D Capture Technicians: Stefano Pasqualini and Renan Campanini

Production Design Assistant: Nathalia Mendonça Prop Master: Bruno Ribeiro Cesar de Oliveira (Bruninho) Landscaping: Ari Arantes Henrique (Dedo Verde) Landscaping Assistant: Klayton Deomar Alves Patriota

Stylist - Studio: Betinha Magalhães Stylist - Aerials: Maika Mano Wardrobe Assistant: Juliana Yoshie Suguinoshita

Make Up Artist: Abraão Leonardo Matias Kennedy

SFX: Vagner Aparecido Martão, Valter Vieira Carrasco, Eduardo Joaquim dos Santos (Rambo), Guilherme Steger

UPs: José Roberto Rodrigues, Rafael Oliveira Jesus (Baiano), Leonardo Souya Bispo

Gaffer: Paulo Sérgio Nunes da Silva Best Boy Electric: Alexsandro Soares dos Santos (Lambis) Assistant Electricians: Aleandro Teixeira De Góis / Claudinei Marcelino

Key Grip: Weber José da Silva Cunha (Cabelo) Best Boy Grip: Alexandre Ferreira Barnete Grip Assistants: Rodrigo Iamamoto Campos, Fernando Tavares da Silva, Pedro Luis Ferreira de Oliveira

Aerial Cinematography: Heitor Teles

Behind the Scenes

Director/Editor: Natan Neves Camera Operator: Victor Leite Pollini Camera Operator: Daniel Cunha Ferro

Catering: Tyla Araújo Flor de Lótus Catering Assistants: Sthefany Araujo Alves, Carla Santos Menezes Lunch/Dinner: Rosa/Maria

Transportation provided by TRANSKINDER

Production Drivers: Tertuliano da Silva, Gilmar Gomes, Roberto Moura Porfirio, Marcio Dianis Moreira Santos, Tadeu Gomes de Brito, Thiago Lima Goes / Dani

Camera Rental: Elitecam Radios: Best Comunicação Light and Grip Rental: Locall

Special Thanks:

Raphael Lobato Allan Almeida Gripp Support Locall Paulo Ribeiro Pará Movimentos Casa do Produtor Moviecenter 3T Locações Ariel Wollinger Fernando Faria Guilherme Teles Daniel Hafez Z7 Locação de Geradores

[cohenmitadas]

retorno.

par: césar cohen (pós osnf, SPOILERS!) x você (identificada com o gênero feminino). childhood friends to ???

só porque eu acabei de ver osnf pela primeira ver, amo o cesar e o thiaguelias demais e fiquei com essa possível cena na cabeça.

☆

a cabeça de cesar cohen estava cheia. a semana tinha sido boa, apesar de tudo: ficar uma semana no japão de novo o fez descansar um pouco e ajudou, em parte, a redirecionar sua cabeça e seus pensamentos depois... depois de tudo.

as lembranças, porém, ainda eram claras: santo berço ardendo em chamas enquanto ele, liz, arthur e joui saíam de lá. arthur sem um braço, liz com o dobro da idade, joui e ele destruídos. a imagem de thiago parado esperando que eles se movessem para acionar os explosivos estava gravada a fundo demais em sua memória, assim como as duas novas covas criadas ao lado das dos gaudérios abutres. apesar de já fazerem algumas semanas, cesar se lembrava como se tudo tivesse acabado de acontecer.

tudo doía muito e ele não quase não conseguia suportar, por isso decidira passar aquela semana de volta no japão, o primeiro lugar que ele pôde realmente chamar de casa. refazer os trajetos que fazia quando mais jovem o fez bem, mas não apaziguou toda a dor que sentia. e, lá no fundo, sabia provavelmente nada a iria fazer passar completamente.

tentando desviar seus pensamentos disso (e falhando mais uma vez), ele procurava alguma música para ouvir que o agradasse enquanto esperava no saguão de embarque de seu voo de volta para o brasil. é curioso como, além de tudo, a equipe e havia o mudado a ponto de estar sentindo saudades mesmo depois de só uma semana longe. já ansiava reencontrar arthur e o ajudar a se alocar em são paulo junto com ivete e ajudar joui a cuidar de liz.

apesar de concentrado em vasculhar suas playlists ele estava atento ao seus arredores; era um agente da ordem, afinal, e todo cuidado era pouco. ele percebeu uma moça sentando nos bancos alguns metros à sua frente, mas não reparou muito. pelo menos nos primeiros minutos. a silhueta era muito familiar, e ele franziu as sobrancelhas. o cesar de dois meses atrás jamais chamaria a possível conhecida em voz alta no meio de um saguão de embarque no japão, onde o silêncio é absoluto.

bem, o cesar de dois meses atrás não tinha ficado com a pele cinza e olhos completamente pretos nem deslocado o joelho tentando arrombar uma porta.

é por isso que você ouve seu nome sendo chamado num tom surpreso.

"é você mesmo?"

"cesar, meu deus!" você se levanta de sobressalto e automaticamente o envolve num abraço apertado. ele nunca foi de muito contato físico, mas você é e ele sabe, então você nem lembra de se preocupar com isso. o que te surpreende é que ele te abraça de volta, e forte.

"o que você tá fazendo aqui? você não tava trabalhando naquele jornal lá em campinas?" ele te pergunta, e soltando do abraço você repara nele. as noites viradas sempre o deram um ar cansado, mas ele parecia ainda mais abatido que o normal. olheiras fundas, pele seca, o cabelo ainda mais sem corte, o corpo mais magro que o normal, rugas mais fundas no rosto. tudo isso e a inquietez incomum dele te chamam a atenção, mas são detalhes cujos motivos você ppde sondar depois. cesar cohen é um banco de dados em que você sabe navegar bem desde que eram adolescentes.

"eu ainda tô trabalhando lá! fui transferida pra sede em são paulo, na verdade, mas sigo lá. e é por isso que tô aqui, na verdade, vim apurar um possível furo que foi localizado aqui e tô voltando pra casa agora. fiquei essa semana passada aqui pra isso. e você?"

ele dá uma risadinha seca, desacreditada. "não acredito que a gente tava aqui ao mesmo tempo e não se encontrou. eu tô numa maré de azar mesmo." ele respira fundo e move a mão direita para o bolso da calça de moletom, parecendo segurar algo que está ali. "eu vim... vim tentar relaxar, mas não sei se consegui. muita coisa na cabeça que não quer sair."

você sorri inconscientemente porque apesar dos anos e das adversidades, lá no fundo a essência dele continua a mesma. "muita coisa pra sentir que não quer passar?"

ele te olha como se tivesse sido pego no flagra e você decide mudar de assunto. "mas pelo visto a gente vai pegar o mesmo voo de volta, né?" você levanta seu passaporte e a passagem, os balançando no ar. "pelo menos a gente consegue se atualizar e não morrer de tédio nessa eternidade que vamo passar aí dentro, eu peço pra trocar de lugar qualquer coisa ou só me mudo pro seu lado se tiver assento vazio perto. depois dessa semana eu tô precisando respirar ares conhecidos." você pega suas malas e as arrasta para o banco ao lado de onde ele estava sentado, e vocês dois se sentam ao mesmo tempo. ele te observa por alguns segundos, pensativo, até voltar a falar.

"como assim 'ares conhecidos'? achei que essa semana teria sido boa pra você, cê tá vivendo um sonho seu." você se sente quentinha por dentro ao perceber que ele se lembra das madrugadas que passavam conversando, quando você divagava sobre a sua vontade de ser jornalista e as incertezas que tinha sobre isso. será que ele também lembrava das reafirmações que ele te fazia e sabia o quanto aquilo tinha te dado forças pra não desistir?

"é, eu tô sim. mas essa semana foi bem... esquisita, pra dizer o mínimo. fica em off entre nós dois, tá, mas eu vim investigar um negócio muito esquisito. alguns animais no interior tão morrendo de forma muito esquisita, e os corpos deles aparecem com umas coisas... uns... uns símbolos bizarros riscados neles e um lodo preto que se forma por dentro dos corpos, nas mucosas, depois de mortos. isso tava acontecendo em alguns vilarejos pequenos do interior de sp e o que passou a acontecer em seguida foi que pessoas passaram a desaparecer... aí eu vim aqui apurar pra ver qual a ligação das duas coisas e ver se o que aconteceu lá no brasil poderia se espelhar aqui." você suspira olhando para seus pés, cansada, sem reparar no olhar fixo assustado e abalado que cesar direciona a você. "eu sei que parece doido, mas... tudo indica que sim. que as mesma coisas que já aconteceram lá vão rolar aqui também. eu tentei avisar algumas autoridades locais mas ninguém quis me ouvir. cê não deve estar acreditando em mim mas eu juro que não tô mentindo. tô me sentindo tão burra por não entender isso tudo que você não faz ideia. nossa, me desculpa, eu me empolguei aqui e não parei mais de falar." você finalmente olha pra ele e vê. vê os olhos dele te mostrando simpatia. mas é uma compreensão além. é quase como se... como se ele soubesse do que você tá falando.

o que os olhos dele não te mostram, porém, é o turbilhão de informações e dúvidas que surgem e rodam a cabeça dele: a membrana também tá sendo enfraquecida aqui no japão? literalmente do outro lado do mundo? faz sentido, se as pesquisas pra criar santo berço surgiram parcialmente dos resultados de uma pesquisa feita na nova zelândia, que também é no extremo oposto do mundo em relação ao brasil, mas será que esses esoterroristas japoneses já tinham contato com o esoterrorismo de outros países? a ordem já sabia disso? já tinha feito algo a respeito?

e o mais latente na cabeça dele: ele deveria te contar sobre a ordem?

porque ele sabia que a partir do momento em que ele te falasse sobre a ordem você iria querer se envolver. se ele te contasse sobre tudo que acontecera com ele no último mês, ainda por cima, não teria escapatória. o seu senso de justiça e vontade de ajudar não te deixariam ficar parada, e ele sabe reconhecer que você tem muito potencial pra ser uma força importante na ordem e que a essa altura a ordem provavelmente estaria precisando.

mas ele aguentaria correr o risco de te perder assim como ele tinha perdido seu pai e thiago?

ele decidiria tudo aquilo mais tarde. naquele momento, ele só pôde agradecer o egoísmo que sentia mais forte ali por te ter de volta mesmo que só por algumas horas na vida dele.

"a gente vai ter muito, muito o que conversar sobre isso, vai por mim. e pra isso vamo ter bastante tempo no voo. então deixa eu mudar de assunto rapidão: e os namoradinho, como tão? já tá amarrada em alguém?" cesar quase que se encolheu fisicamente com a pergunta constrangedora que fez, mas sentiu que não ia dar pra evitar o assunto.

você ri, sem acreditar na pergunta, e bate de leve no bíceps dele. "cesar, eu tô encalhada desde o ensino médio quando gostei daquele maromba popularzão da escola. é mais fácil arranjar um casamento pra você aqui agora nesse aeroporto do que me arranjar alguém. aliás, eu era especialista no seu tipo de pessoa, cê não quer que eu te ache ninguém aqui agora não? olha que eu consigo, hein!" você sorri, olhando ao redor e apontando para os lados.

bom saber. muito bom saber. quem sabe ele conseguiria reunir coragem pra tentar alguma coisa no futuro. por enquanto ele só riu, a primeira risada sincera que ele dava em algum tempo.

"isso vai dar um trabalho..."

espero que tenham gostado. me deem feedback, por favor! <3

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Battleships fic for @echotunes !!! Softer post-OSNF hours this time around, though the opening is rather grim <3

5am, All Is Well

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ordem Paranormal (Web Series) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Arthur Cervero & Cesar Oliveira Cohen & Joui "Joe" Jouki, Arthur Cervero & Cesar Oliveira Cohen, Arthur Cervero & Joui "Joe" Jouki Characters: Arthur Cervero, Cesar Oliveira Cohen, Joui "Joe" Jouki Additional Tags: Nightmares, description of corpses, major character injury (but in a nightmare), Campaign 02: O Segredo na Floresta, references to major canonical character death, Fluff, Angst, Trauma, references to past major injury, bed sharing Summary: Arthur has a nightmare

(Full Text Below)

There's blood leaking from the Helper's neck, pooling and pooling into a pond - no a sea. Black eyes are most certainly dead, and yet the man screams and screams and screams. Arthur curls in the corner of the room, hands pressed to his ears, hearing the muffled, angry voice yelling for him again and again and again. He feels the pickaxe bury itself into his shoulder, shattering the bone as it pulls the flesh away.

His blood pours out, joining the Helper's. His father breaks the door down, and Arthur looks up to see him - not alive, not like he saw him that night, but dead, dead, dead. Insects burrow under his flesh, causing it to shift and squirm. His eyes are black - not like the Helper's - open voids where something has eaten them away.

His father's skull is broken through, bone fragments bloody and scattered across his right shoulder. It's the same shoulder Arthur still has, the one splattered with the sticky remains of his father's brain.

Behind him, the Vultures.

Beside him, Chris and Thiago.

All dead, dead, dead.

Arthur screws shut his eyes, desperate not to see, but it does not stop anything from happening again. His father's corpse is in the doorway one moment, and at Arthur's side the next. Still he refuses to look as a fist meets the tender flesh where his arm used to be, almost unnaturally strong as it punches again, and again, and again.

Just like that night in the hotel, Arthur shields his head.

Just like that night, it does nothing to help.

At a certain point, the pain is too much. Arthur's eyes open as he feels ribs crack, his body reflexively uncurling as he chokes his own blood onto the floor.

It splatters, making the situation no worse, his blood mixing with that leaking from the corpses all around him.

He does not try to reason with the bodies, not even as Thiago kicks his already broken ribs; he remembers the last morning, remembers his father's cooking, the breakfast, sat together on the settee as they prepared for their day.

He remembers his father, charging in, looking to save his son - only for Death to get into his mind, to leak from his eyes, to drive him to despair and to blow apart his own brain.

Not this, never this, Brulio was harsh at times but he would never have hurt Arthur. He never, never, never would have hurt Arthur.

That does not change how Arthur's bones snap beneath his feet, how furious screams and accusations thunder in his ears, how the rot crawls out of his body and into Arthur's throat, bringing up not only blood but that black, sticky ooze.

He chokes, and he chokes, on blood and Death both. His body shudders with every breath and every blow, bones snapping further, elongating and warping as they push through his skin. His chest is a bloody mess, his arm is a bloody mess, the miner raises his axe and drives it into his skull and-

Arthur wakes up, scream lodged in his throat. It is dark out, the curtains of their room drawn, and Arthur finds himself choking on a sob. He tries to raise a hand, to wipe away the tears, only to find it trapped. For a moment panic reigns, cutting through him in a desperate shudder, then-

"Arthur-san? Are you okay?"

The tears bubble over as his eyes find Joui, propped up on one elbow and looking at him. Joui, who is holding his last remaining hand. Behind him he feels Cesar stir, the eldest of their trio's arms tightening around him as he's clung to like an oversized bear. Stubble presses against his back, scratching the skin where Arthur - even scarred as he is - refuses to wear a nightshirt.

"Hey, hey, Arthur-san," Joui's voice is a little panicked, even as he leans forwards and wraps him into a hug. "You're crying. You were yelling. What's wrong?"

Arthur's arm is trapped and his hand his held, so there is no hugging back. He can still, however, burrow his face into Joui's neck, feeling warmth against his skin as his tears soak into his pyjama shirt.

Behind him, Cesar moves in a way that can only mean that he, too, is awake. One hand pulls away from the hug, only to pet at Arthur's hair.

"Sorry," he tells them between tears. "Sorry, sorry, I-"

"Shhh," Cesar tells him, voice still sleepy and muffled. "We're good."

So, so good. Too good to Arthur, really.

Joui's arms tighten a little as he picks up a deluge of words. Arthur is not sure he understands any of them, just the warmth of his friends, and the very alive bodies around him; it's not even a parasite this time, just a nightmare. It is only a nightmare.

Given a little time, the tears slow again. The horrific images fade a little from Arthur's mind, though never entirely - not the real ones, not those. He does not think he can ever forget his father's corpse, or those of his friends, the Helper's body or a town engulfed in flames.

At least he never saw Thiago dead. Nobody could have survived that, but at least he never saw Thiago dead.

"Sorry," he tells them again, twisting another little sob into nervous laughter. "Nightmare."

Joui nods all seriously, and Cesar makes a hum of understanding. There is a little shuffling about, before Joui runs off with a quick "I'll get some water!"

Slowly, Cesar unwinds from around him.

"Morning, Arthur," he mumbles, turning and flopping onto his back. "What's time?"

The bags under Cesar's eyes are not only from late nights on the computer, nor from everybody else's dreams.

Arthur shifts his arm free, rolling over until he can see their bedside clock. It only takes a bit of flailing to make the number display.

5:07.

"Five in morning," Arthur replies, making the perfectly reasonable decision to flop back onto the pillows.

Cesar groans, and burrows his face into the pillow, "Joui's not coming back to bed, is he?"

"As late as five in the morning?" Arthur knows his tone is still a bit shaky, but tries to grin anyway. "It's a wonder that Joui was still in it, really."

"The asshole," Cesar smiles back, making a grabby gesture for Arthur's hand. "You... good?"

Arthur knows what the question means, as uncomfortable as Cesar looks to ask it. "I'm good."

Before either of them can say more, Joui returns. He brings not one but three glasses of water, somewhat awkwardly held as he elbows open the door.

"I bought you water too, Cesar-kun," Joui places the water onto his bedside table, before handing them out; Arthur lets go of Cesar's hand to take his, while Cesar himself glares a little. "I know you are already a prune, but it would not do to be a dried one. If you're dehydrated, it will make your back pain worse."

"Shut up," Cesar rejects the glass by turning his face into the pillow; Arthur sits and sips at his glass, a smile slowly growing as he watches the pair continue to bicker.

Joui wins, in the end, Cesar grumpily taking the glass, downing it, and then burrow himself back into the pillows. Still Joui hesitates to leave - even if he is usually out training by half past.

"You can go," Arthur tells him. "We'll be fine."

There's a moment's hesitation before Joui nods. He grins at them both with a bright "good morning Arthur-san, Cesar-kun! I'll bring breakfast back with me!"

Arthur waves, and Cesar flips him off. Joui does not slam doors as he leaves, far too polite to do that even for a joke, but his footsteps are deliberately heavy on the stairs. He listens to him go before placing the half finished glass on Joui's bedside table.

This time, when he lies back down, he wraps his arm over Cesar's back.

"Good night, Cesar. Go back to sleep."

"See," Cesar muffles into the pillow. "This is why you're my favourite; Joui makes me go to the gym when he has nightmares."

And Cesar's own tend to be later in the morning still.

Arthur doesn't say that, though. Instead he laughs, and presses against his friend, and holds him until they both fall back to sleep.