#other additional tags to be added

[unknownmusing]

Late Halloween Fic Snippet - 'Crimson Petals Among the Autumn Leaves'

Notes:

Inspired by bluegiragi's Halloween Slasher Comic

1 of yet undecided parts

Have not played the games, mostly just watched snippets from Youtube to get idea of characters and looked at fanart.

---------------------------

PART 1 of ?

PROLOGUE - 'There Can only be One Slasher in the Woods'

The large woods of Atrocitas is empty, except for the occasional rustle of a gentle breeze dislodging the Autumnal leaves of orange, yellow and red above in the canopy where they tumble down onto the undisturbed forest floor way below them.

Then a noise - someone running hard through the forest, scattering leaves in all directions and panting hard with his chest rising and falling under the long bloodied white butcher's smok, brown belts around waist and one arm with a specialised hood covering their face.

Behind Konig, someone else wearing a white skull-face mask chases after him until finally manages to bowl him over to slam down on the ground where he soon feels his specialised hood covering his face ripped off by a gloved hand and the figure above him wearing the skull-face like mask with straps on it looks down at him saying.

"There you are…..Butcher…"

That all Konig can get out in reply is

"Scheissdreck…"

when their other black gloved hand tightens around his throat in a tight squeeze, cutting of his air supply.

It seems Konig had just met the other Slasher who hunted in the large woods of Atrocitas - the one known only as Ghost.

One it seemed who preferred 'There can only one Slasher in the Woods' and not two.

--------------------------------------------------------------

[amydivalerie]

Pais e Filhos

Capítulo 1: Nada é fácil de entender

Pairing: qsmp!Cellbit/qsmp!Roier Word count: 3721 Summary: No ponto mais remoto do Oceano Pacífico há um arquipélago pertencente à sua própria nação chamada Ponto Nemo. Um lugar singular com união de culturas diversas, mas ainda longe do resto do mundo, perfeito para pessoas que precisam de um novo começo, como qCellbit, mas ele não esperava que seu novo começo resultaria em um marido e dois filhos que ama mais do que qualquer coisa… Pelo menos, até uma viagem de trabalho eram apenas dois filhos. Warnings: None Fandom & Personagens: QSMP | Quackity SMP; qsmp!Cellbit; qsmp!Roier; qsmp!Cellbit; Bobby (QSMP); Richarlyson (QSMP); Pepito (QSMP) Agradecimentos especiais para: Kel, para sempre minha beta revisora! Daune, minha guapita que ajudou na revisão dos das partes em espanhol e ouviu minhas divagações sobre essa história; Thata, que não só ouviu minhas divagações, mas me ajudou nas indecisões e fez com que fosse possível essa história existir tão cedo; e @jinanxia no twitter, que criou a prompt e headcanons que inspiraram essa história. Disclaimer: - História baseada no prompt de @jinanxia no twitter: “Em um universo alternativo eu imagino guapoduo com os filhos nas seguintes idades: Bobby com 8 anos, Richas com 6 e Pepito com 3” - Obviamente os personagens em que foram baseados não me pertencem. - A história se trata dos cubitos, personagens de minecraft, não nos criadores.  - O “q” não será usado por questões de estética. EDIÇÃO 10/01: Retcon para remoção de personagem, e menção de outros adicionada.

O trabalho de Cellbit costuma ser tranquilo ao ponto dele poder trabalhar de casa na maior parte do tempo, a polícia de Quesadilla faz um bom trabalho reunindo informações e pistas para que ele encontre as soluções dos casos que precisam da sua assistência. Porém, às vezes, as investigações o levam para outras cidades ou ilhas de Ponto Nemo para analisar cenas ou pistas que não podem ser movidas. Apesar de gostar do senso de aventura, estar longe de seu marido e filhos não é algo que ele aprecia; como acontecera em seu último caso, no qual precisou ficar duas semanas inteiras fora de casa em uma ilha afastada do centro de Ponto Nemo com quase nenhum sinal de comunicação. Era frustrante não ter um meio de matar as saudades de sua família, pelo menos isso deu mais um gás para ele resolver o caso rápido e finalmente voltar para casa.

— Pai! — Richarlyson, o caçula da família, foi quem o recebeu assim que abriu a porta de casa, se jogando para um abraço. — Demorou pra caralho! ‘Cê não vai acreditar no que aconteceu com o pa Roier! —

Cellbit abraçou apertado o filho de seis anos, aproveitando para mexer na touquinha de vaca que o menino adora e bagunçar os cachos que cobriam seus olhos. Era uma surpresa Richas estar em casa, não que ele fosse reclamar, adorava a presença do filho, mas, antes mesmo de viajar, tinha combinado com Pac que Richas ficaria com ele nesse fim de semana.

— Ei, Cabeçudo! Que demorei?! Foi um dos casos mais rápidos que já fiz, Richarlyson. — Apesar da ansiedade subindo por sua garganta, o humor de Richas o confortou de que não era algo ruim. O menino tentava conter o sorriso para manter uma carranca irritada. — Como assim? O que aconteceu com seu pai? — 

— Vem ver essa palhaçada. — Richarlyson respondeu puxando o pai pela mão, o homem estava confuso demais para contestar então só colocou a mala de viagem do lado da escada e se deixou ser levado.

Cellbit percebeu que estavam indo para a cozinha (o que era perfeito depois de uma viagem de cinco horas, ele realmente precisava comer algo) e quanto mais se aproximavam, mais forte o cheiro de macarrão com frango ficava. Não duvidava que até Richas conseguia ouvir seu estômago roncando. Ao entrar na cozinha, porém, toda a fome do investigador foi esquecida com a cena em sua frente: sentado na mesa de jantar estava seu amado esposo e, ao lado dele, em uma cadeira especial, estava uma criança desconhecida. Os óculos infantis vermelhos, de silicone, fazia com que seus olhos verdes parecessem ainda maiores, a haste em volta de sua cabeça deixava os óculos bem presos  e a cor combinava com sua blusa listrada branca e vermelha, o pequeno não deveria ter mais de 3 anos.

— Guapito…? — Perguntou hesitante, ainda parado na porta. Richas soltou sua mão e foi para o lado do menino, começando a cutucar ele, causando um ataque de risos no garoto mais novo.

— Ah mira quien es, Pepito, mi pinche esposo que no tiene casa... — Roier cruzou os braços fingindo irritação. — Bueno, ¿te vas a quedar ahí? — 

Apesar de ainda estar confuso quanto à criança, não conteve o sorriso com a provocação, preferindo ceder as carências do marido, não que Cellbit algum dia fosse negar dar atenção a Roier, ainda mais depois de semanas longe, a verdade é que, dos dois, Cellbit provavelmente era quem mais sentia falta da companhia. Ele esteve sozinho a vida inteira, passando por experiências traumatizantes o suficiente para ignorar a solidão, em alguns momentos não tendo nada para pensar além disso. Desse modo,  depois de se aproximar de Roier e conhecer o que era parceria, companheirismo e carinho, não pôde evitar se viciar no sentimento de ter alguém do seu lado.

— Desculpa, Guapito, eu não achei que o sinal naquela ilha ia ser tão ruim…— Foi em sua direção e depositou um beijo no topo da cabeça do marido, que corou feliz com a atenção.  —  Quem é esse garotão aqui? —

Perguntou olhando para o menino desconhecido, a risada do pequeno ecoava pela cozinha. Agora Richas brincava de tentar roubar a comida dele, e conhecendo o filho,  Cellbit imaginava que logo ele iria realmente pegar e comer algo do prato do menor.

— Pelo jeito a Federação está em necessidade de voluntários para o programa de guardiões, convocaram eu, Mariana e o Quackity para cuidar desse chamaco… E outros dois de primeira viagem também. — Roier explicou enquanto chamava a atenção da criança de volta para o almoço. — Richas! Deja su pollo, hay más en la sartén para ustedes. —

— Pai, coloca pra mim?! — 

Richarlyson pediu olhando manhoso para Cellbit, o que não era comum para seu filho de seis anos, pois sempre foi uma criança independente, que gostava de se provar pros pais desde que eram apenas guardiões, e ele só tinha quatro anos na época! Apesar de não ter permissão de mexer nas panelas, ele nunca fazia manha para pedir coisas, até mesmo comida.

— Pera, então… Você tá como guardião de novo? Isso nem é necessidade, é desespero. Pensei que não podia ser guardião de duas crianças. — Cellbit falava enquanto servia o prato de Richas, a criança se apressou para sentar na cadeira de frente para o novo menino.

Uma curiosidade sobre o país Ponto Nemo é o programa de guarda de crianças órfãs: orfanatos não são comuns no arquipélago que forma a nação, ao invés disso, o governo faz uma extensa pesquisa dos cidadãos que se voluntariam para o banco de dados do programa, e com testes de compatibilidade seleciona as melhores opções para serem guardiões de uma das crianças carentes. Geralmente, uma criança recebe mais de dois guardiões que, muito provavelmente, mal se conhecem. Pode parecer uma receita para o desastre, mas os responsáveis pela compatibilidade fazem um trabalho incrível o suficiente para que mesmo duas pessoas completamente opostas, que mal falam a mesma língua, consigam cuidar de uma criança com o carinho que ela dificilmente receberia em uma casa onde teria que dividir tudo com outras cem crianças. Foi assim que Cellbit e Roier conheceram seus, agora legalmente, filhos: Bobby e Richarlyson.

— Eles colocam seu nome de volta se você adotar também, mas vai pro final da lista, por isso nem me preocupei quando adotei o Bobby- ¡No mames, Pepiux! ¡El Richarlyson ya va a comer, no tiene necesidad de darle tu comida! — 

Roier interrompeu sua explicação ao ver a criança tentando jogar pedaços de frango para Richas no outro lado da mesa, o menino brasileiro se jogava em cima da mesa para pegar a carne de bom grado.

— Pepiux? — Cellbit perguntou, sinalizando para Richas sentar direito enquanto colocava o prato na frente do menino, “Pepiux” parecia envergonhado pela bronca de Roier.

— É só um apelido. O nome dele é José, mas quando um José é criança chamamos ele de Pepito. Então ele é o Pepito, Pepiux, Pepitinho… —

— Pepito! — O menino concordou levantando os braços, ele gostava do próprio nome, e o sorriso no rosto de Roier dizia que ele já sente certo carinho pelo garoto.

— Hola, Pepito, yo soy Cellbit, soy el esposo de tu papá… — Sorriu gentil para o menino depois de se abaixar e ficar mais ou menos na altura do pequeno. 

Pepito sorriu de volta o cumprimentando com um “Hola, pa Cellbit!” animado, o que rendeu um levantar de sobrancelha questionador na direção de Roier; o mexicano ignorou, mais uma vez chamando a atenção do garoto para seu prato, Pepito foi rapido em imitar Richas ao ver ele comer apressado.

— E quando isso tudo aconteceu?? — Cellbit se levantou, a atenção voltando totalmente para seu marido, contente em ter conseguido dar atenção para a nova criança. 

— Uns cinco dias depois de você ter viajado, creio… Dois dias depois já estava com a gente. — 

Roier também se levantou para colocar o prato do menino na pia, enquanto Pepito encarava Cellbit com olhos incrivelmente grandes atrás dos óculos redondos, o brasileiro chegou a considerar estar sendo analisado pelo pequeno, mas sentia que não tinha muitos pensamentos passando por aquela cabecinha. Logo viu bracinhos sendo levantados em sua direção e instintivamente o tirou da cadeirinha, porém, ao tentar colocar a criança no chão sentiu ela se agarrar em seu corpo.

— Você não queria descer?? — Perguntou olhando para Pepito confuso, e como resposta recebeu um aperto ainda maior em volta de seu pescoço e a risada do marido ecoando pelo cômodo. Olhou para o Roier buscando auxílio. — Guapito…? —

— Te valió verga, Cellbo, esse é o niño mais carente que já vi, não vai te soltar tão cedo. —

A mente do investigador estava cada vez mais confusa com toda a situação: como o menino que acabou de conhecê-lo já estava tão disposto a se apegar? O quão forte pode ser a carência de uma criança ao ponto de ignorar sua autopreservação? De chamá-lo de “pa”? Apesar de que, pela reação do marido mais cedo, imaginava que tinha dedo de Roier quanto o menino já o chamar de pai.

No programa de guardiões, oficialmente chamado “It Takes a Village”, é recomendado não criar um relacionamento de pais e filhos com as crianças, já que se trata de uma guarda temporária e elas podem ser adotadas por pessoas de qualquer lugar de Ponto Nemo e assim perder contato com seus guardiões. Porém, isso é muito mais fácil dito do que feito, algumas pessoas conseguem manter uma relação apenas de tios-sobrinhos, mas é comum encontrar crianças chamando seus guardiões de pais e serem respondidos como filhos. Roier é uma dessas pessoas que não se importam de tratar seus protegidos como filhos, por sorte Cellbit também não.

— Roier, eu também quero comer… — Pediu para o marido na esperança que ele pegasse Pepito de seu colo, mas o mexicano achou a situação engraçada o suficente para preferir servir o prato de Cellbit. — Ele já aprendeu a ser assim com o Quackity, foi? —

Se dando por vencido, Cellbit sentou do lado de Richas com Pepito em sua perna, mas percebeu que o filho não ficou muito feliz em ver outro menino no colo do pai. Richarlyson sempre mostrou ciúmes dos pais com outras crianças. A única exceção foi com Bobby, mas isso porque os meninos tiveram uma conexão de irmãos logo que se conheceram. Sabia que teria que conversar com o filho sobre como Pepito e nem ninguém o substituiria, mas pelo momento preferiu mexer na touca dele de novo, até porque acabou de chegar em casa, não é como se não fossem ter tempo.

— Na realidade, Pepito até agora só ficou comigo. —

— O que? Como assim?? Por que? — 

Roier colocou o prato na frente do marido, vendo Pepito tentar mexer com o cabelo de Richas, não alcançando a toca como o adulto havia feito, o garoto brasileiro afastava a mão do menor com irritação, então Cellbit achou melhor posicionar Pepito em sua outra perna distanciando os dois. Pepito aceitou que não era hora de brincar e simplesmente encostou todo seu corpo contra o de Cellbit. O homem ainda não sabia se o menino estava prestando atenção na conversa ou completamente se desligando da realidade. 

— Mariana, Quackity e Rivers estão em viagem, Dios lo sabe quando voltam; e Carre tá com a casa em reforma, Pepito é um pouco sensível a algumas coisas, com o pó que tá naquela casa, ele ia acabar morrendo em duas horas. — Se encostou na pia, tendo uma visão perfeita dos três. — Então vai ser a gente e o Pepito por um tempo. — 

— Roier… — Cellbit alternou olhares entre Pepito, Richas e Roier. — Você tá me dizendo que basicamente a gente tem um terceiro filho? — 

—... Talvez, um pouco… Por enquanto, não sei… — 

— Quer dizer, não que seja problema, só é um pouco repentino, mas não acho que tem problema a gente ter mais uma boca pra sustentar… —

Até porque a Federação não larga as crianças nas mãos dos cidadãos e parte pra próxima, todos os guardiões recebem uma pensão mensal para garantir as necessidades básicas da criança e um bônus como token de gratidão. Não paga o esforço que é cuidar e educar uma criança, é claro, o trabalho é muito mais que apenas alimentar bocas, mas é um bom incentivo para os voluntários.

— Pac não conseguiu te buscar, Richas? — 

Decidiu dar mais atenção para o filho, aproveitando que tinha a curiosidade do porquê dele estar em casa. Os outros ex-guardiões de Richarlyson não passam mais tanto tempo com o menino depois dele ter sido adotado por Cellbit e Roier, e por isso raramente cancelavam quando marcavam de passar um tempo com ele. O menino fez uma careta remexendo no macarrão, claramente não feliz com o que sejá lá que tenha acontecido. 

Olhando para o passado era engraçado pensar no quanto Richas se aproximou dos quatro guardiões que tinha: logo no primeiro dia de guarda, os quatro se reuniram na casa que Pac e Mike dividiam para cuidar do pequeno, e o dia terminou com o quarteto cantando totalmente fora de tom, tempo e ritmo, e esperando que Richarlyson dormisse. Foi uma festa para o garotinho que mal tinha quatro anos, ele não demorou uma semana para começar a chamar eles de pais, o que derreteu por completo o coração dos brasileiros.

 Com um ano de guarda, Cellbit não podia imaginar viver sem o garotinho correndo por seu escritório querendo ajudar em seus enigmas e o chamando de pai. Então fez um acordo com os outros três, no qual eles ganhavam guarda compartilhada permanente, e Richas tinha o nome de Cellbit em sua certidão, eram legalmente pai e filho.

— Ramon pegou catapora. —

O garoto explicou irritado, ou pelo menos tentou explicar, já que a frase não fez sentido algum para o adulto. Conhecia Ramon, é claro, é um amigo dos seus filhos que também fazia parte do programa de guarda. Mas um de seus guardiões simplesmente desistiu do posto e deixou a responsabilidade para Fit, um veterano de guerra como Cellbit, e que, como Cellbit, encontrou conforto no seu protegido. Sabia que tinha algo entre Pac e Fit, mas não via como isso afetava o acordo que fez com Pac. 

— Tá… E o Pac pegou catapora dele? Que que tem a ver, Richarlyson? — Perguntou confuso, esperando que o filho desse mais do que uma resposta curta.

— O tio Fit foi pra Austrália e deixou o Ramon com o pai Pac, mas o cabeça de carne podre pegou catapora e o pai Pac não queria que eu pegasse também, então falou pra eu não ir. —

Cellbit percebeu então: Richas não tinha só Pepito pra dividir a atenção dos pais, também tinha Ramon entrando na vida de Pac. E é claro que Cellbit entendia o amigo, não podia mandar Ramon pra outra pessoa só pra ficar com Richas, ainda mais quando Fit confiou em Pac para cuidar do menino. Ainda assim, é difícil para uma criança entender e se acostumar com esse tipo de mudanças.

— Pac se fudeu então, enquanto ele fica de enfermeiro do Ramon, eu posso aproveitar o fim de semana com meu filho. — Sorriu e fez cócegas em Richas com o braço livre, o menino riu tentando se afastar.

A conversa mudou enquanto Cellbit comia, Richas e Roier contaram como foram as últimas semanas, Cellbit explicou sobre o caso que foi investigar e as descobertas que teve, e que ainda precisava fazer um relatório mais organizado de tudo. Continuaram conversando mesmo quando já não tinha mais comida em seu prato, Richas decidiu ir jogar em seu quarto, e Cellbit só percebeu que Pepito dormiu em seu colo quando olhou para baixo e viu o garoto babando em sua camiseta. Seu sorriso se desfez ao acariciar a cabeça de Pepito e sentir o quão quente ele estava.

— Parece que ele tá com febre… Guapito?! —

— Deve estar passando o efeito do remédio — Roier foi até os dois e também checou a temperatura de Pepito com a mão. —  Ele tá resfriado desde anteontem, hoje parece estar melhor até. —

— Quer acordar ele pra dar mais? — Questionou preocupado. Curiosamente foram poucas as vezes em que Richas esteve doente enquanto estava sob seus cuidados, Felps sempre tomava a frente quando acontecia, então não era algo com que estava acostumado.

— Não, se ele acordar reclamando de dor sim, mas a febre não está tão alta pra se preocupar agora. Se quiser pode colocar ele na cama. — 

Roier, por outro lado, cuidava de Bobby a mais de quatro anos e durante os três primeiros esteve com o menino quase todos os dias, já que ele e Jaiden, a outra guardiã, se tornaram colegas de quarto para cuidar de Bobby. Pode-se dizer que dos dois maridos, Roier era o que tinha mais experiência em cuidar de crianças.

— Onde ele tá dormindo? — 

A menção de cama fez com que a ficha caísse, fazia pouco menos de duas semanas que Pepito estava com Roier e a casa não tinha mais de três quartos além de seu escritório. Quando se casaram, escolheram uma com espaço o suficiente para eles e os dois filhos, não sentiram necessidade de um quarto de visitas já que todos os seus amigos moravam perto, e Cellbit não queria nem um pouco que o avô do marido tivesse uma desculpa para ficar na casa dos dois, seja para uma estadia longa ou curta.

— Por enquanto, no nosso quarto… —

Fazia sentido por ser uma criança pequena (e agora doente), mas não era muito seguro já que o quarto ficava no segundo andar, e até onde se lembrava, não tinham nenhum tipo de segurança para bebês instalado.

— Já tem uma ideia? —

— No, deixei pra quando voltasse, assim quem vai levar a culpa vai ser você. — 

Roier deu uma risada maléfica que fez Cellbit sorrir, não era incomum o mexicano brincar sobre deixar decisões difíceis pro marido, mas a verdade é que sempre chegavam em soluções com uma boa conversa. Essa seria uma complicada, mesmo que Bobby e Richas tivessem uma boa relação de irmãos, eles ainda foram criados por um bom tempo como filhos únicos, por isso Cellbit e Roier fizeram questão de dar um quarto para cada um, com espaço para colocar as coisas que ganhavam de seus outros pais também. Colocar Pepito com um dos dois ou juntar os irmãos não seria fácil.

— Claro, claro… — Ele olhou novamente para Pepito em seus braços. — Acho que o quarto do Bobby é grande o bastante pra ele e Richas, a gente pode deixar o do Richas pro Pepito… Também sempre tem a opção de perguntar o que eles preferem. — 

— Não penso que eles vão entrar em consenso, mas podemos conversar, sim, como família. — 

— Tentamos isso, e se complicarem demais a gente faz o que achar melhor, e é isso. — 

— Bueno, suena bien. Jaiden deve trazer Bobby antes do jantar, vamos ter tempo pra conversar hoje. — 

— Uhum, bom, aproveitando então, tenho um relatório pra terminar… — 

Cellbit levantou pronto para passar Pepito para Roier, mas sentiu pequenos braços se prenderem ao seu pescoço junto de um murmúrio de desaprovação.

— Ah bueno, pinche niño ingrato hijo de tu puta madre, yo te cuidé dos semanas y ahora prefieres el pinche pendejo? — Roier vociferou ofendido, abaixando os braços que estavam prontos para receber o menino. — Bueno, quedate con el pinche Cellbit. Vete a la verga, pídele a él tu pinche medicina. — 

A risada de Cellbit ficou mais alta quando Roier começou a tirar a mesa e organizar a louça para lavar. Pepito continuava dormindo profundamente em seu colo.

— Eu vou cuidar dessa casa, porque ninguém me ajuda mesmo, se eu não fizer ninguém vai fazer. Fica vocês dois aí sem fazer nada, eu sempre faço tudo por aqui mesmo… Hijos de puta… — 

As reclamações continuaram enquanto Cellbit saia da cozinha, subia as escadas e, até mesmo depois de entrar em seu quarto, podia ouvir Roier murmurando.

— Esse é seu papa, Pepito, é o melhor que vai encontrar, mas às vezes é dramático assim. — 

Disse baixo apesar de não achar que o menino fosse acordar. Olhou em volta, mas não encontrou a segunda cama que esperava, em vez disso seu lado da cama de casal estava com uma barreira de travesseiros e almofadas. Não podia acreditar que todo esse tempo Roier deixou Pepito dormir na cama dos dois, o mexicano realmente aproveitou que o marido não estava em casa para fazer as coisas como sabia que Cellbit não aprovava. Uma das coisas que aprendeu com guias de paternidade que leu quando recebeu a guarda de Richas era que crianças não devem dormir na cama dos pais ou com eles para que não se acostumassem, nem tirasse a intimidade dos responsáveis, era ainda menos recomendado para crianças na idade de Pepito. 

Respirou fundo achando melhor não discutir sobre isso agora e ir terminar o bendito relatório, não é como se pudesse voltar no tempo e comprar uma cama para a Pepito. Deixou o velho computador ligando em seu escritório e voltou para o quarto para colocar Pepito na cama, mas novamente o menino se recusou a soltá-lo, e quando ele ameaçou chorar, Cellbit decidiu que hoje seria um berço móvel levando ele de volta para o escritório.

(...)

Poucas horas depois, Roier subiu com um chamado de Bobby. O menino tinha ido cumprimentar Cellbit depois do tempo sem vê-lo (inclusive, estava curioso sobre o caso que ele foi investigar), além de ter que chamar ele e Pepito para jantar. Roier encontrou o menino parado na entrada para o escritório com os braços cruzados.

— Ese gordo ya está marcando su territorio, eh? — Bobby caçoou, Roier não precisava ver o sorriso em seu rosto para saber que não tinha peso na frase do menino, o filho gostava de implicar com os outros, e é como mostra afeição, pelo menos era o que Roier esperava.

Dentro do escritório, a tela do computador de Cellbit estava apagada no modo hibernar, o marido estava dormindo assim como Pepito, que parecia confortável em seu peito, o braço esquerdo de Cellbit estava por cima das costas do menino para impedir que ele caísse, os óculos vermelhos de Pepito pendurado em sua mão. Roier sabia que o marido nunca iria se opor a cuidar de mais uma criança, o brasileiro adorava crianças mesmo pensando não ter muito tato com elas, e encontrar ele em um momento tão doméstico com o menino que conheceu no mesmo dia era só a confirmação.

— No este celoso, Bolby. — 

[innermuse24]

Deadpool Movie Fanstory:

'The Consquences of Messing with Cable's Time-Traveling Device and What it Brings with It'

-------------------------------------------

Notes:

Cable - Nathan Summers/Deadpool - Wade Wilson

Based on the end part of Deadpool where he pinches/steals Cable's time-traveling device.

-------------------------------------------------

PROLOGUE - When Deadpool Realises his Consquences Sort Of

Deadpool/Wade Wilson's P.O.V:

"WADEEEEEE!!!!?"

I'm in deep shit.

Literally deep shit at the moment having no time to react as Colussus - big, metal hunk of strength - grabs hold of me by the swords to pull me backwards to very pissed off Cable standing in the foyer of the X-Mansion hands on his hips glaring at me with both his normal eye and the golden one then flings me down at the older man's feet.

"Oh, hey…Cable. Miss me?" I ask him, rolling to lay on the floor in seductive pose with arm resting on my thigh for some reason making him glare at me - golden eye flashing heavily - and give a sheepish grin even though he can't see it because I'm wearing the red mask.

"Do you have any idea of what the fucking hell you have just done!!!!? You've just made sure you don't exist."

Oh, shit!!!!? I really should of listened to my inner reason voice. Oh, wait….I don't have one. Dumbass.

WAIT!!!? WHAT HAVE I DONE!!!!?

-----------------------------------------

PART 1 - Cable Confused about his Feelings and Deadpool just Winging it as they Go Along the Way to Fix One's Timeline

Deadpool/Wade Wilson's P.O.V:

Megasonic-Teenager-Warhead or whatever her name was seems to want to kill me slowly and painfully and she may have to get into line because of Cable as I find myself staring at my de-aged self without looking like what be considered by a friend "When a pineapple had sex with Avocodo." and more like when I met Wolverine after he called "That you, Wade. I see Stryker managed to shut you up." making me remember that soon the all of me would disappear if we didn't hurry to sort it out.

This would be so embarrassing. It would mean I would have to make sure my parents met, fucked and soon had me appearing in their already hectic lives then meeting Vanessa, falling in love and killing what-his-face again then saving Russel from being killed by Cable from the future, which Cable - The one standing at the doorway right now. Yeah, I know Stalkerish don't you think or does he like my ass in red? - says I will have to face himself alone and that may just help my timeline realign itself.

"Are you just going to stare at yourself in that mirror like…the Diva you are or ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING HURRY YOUR ASS OVER!!!" Cable shouting the rest of the words, meaning he is still pissed as hell at me for messing with his Time-travelling device.

"Okay, calm yourself, Honey. I'm just coming, let me apply my makeup; lace thongs and corset then high-heels and we're ready to go." I reply, seeing cough heavily to hide…Was that a blush on Cable's face?..and placing the mask back down skip up to him for some no-apparent reason but because I feel like it.

"Shut up. Just let's go." He say, trying not to look me in the eye and leaning close to him go to peck him on the cheek when he places his hand on my face stopping me making me give a muffled protest at it.

----------------------------------------

Afterwards with Dopinder - my dear cinnamon murder muffin - driving us in what was now affectionally called the Deadpool-Mobile, I look back at Cable looking out of the back passenger window with his large, muscular arms crossed over his chest.

Deciding he needs some company, I unbuckle my seat-belt to clamber into the back wriggling slightly in my process to squeeze through the gap between

Settling down, I smooth any crinkles in my suit and moving myself lay my head down on his lap making him tense slightly then flick his gaze down to me, clenching his fist slightly only to sigh heavily and un-clench it.

“I don’t why I even bother.” He says, surprising me at his choice of words that sit up to twist myself around to face him seeing how he's blatantly refusing to look at me. "You....just decided to take it and think what 'It be good idea to change the past, let's go' and not realise....fuck it....why do I put up with you."

"Uhh, Cable.....maybe it's because you enjoy my company." I tell him jokely, only to see he's blushing that sitting myself up, lean closer to check I'm actually seeing his face turning a wonderful shade of red.

The punch in the face is expected that comes straight after I lean into his personal space feels like 'Worth it' hearing Dopinder signing softly in the driver's seat at the antics going on in the back of the taxi.

-------------------------

[hermit-writes]

You Make Sense of the Devil

Summary

A ghost from the BAU past reappears and drags up unfinished business for Aaron Hotchner. The ripples are enough to call back missing team members and spread well beyond the circle of his influence.

Tags

James “Bucky” Barnes/Emily Prentiss

Timeline What Timeline, MCU fusion, Criminal Minds fusion, Implied Past Non-Con, liberties were taken with the legal system, Case Fic, International Fanworks Day 2023, No One Is Okay, canon typical trauma, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Excerpt

The team settles on the plane and even the tight quarters cannot mask how few they are. They’ve been whittled down to a functional core, but when it’s just them the masks slip. Reid still carries his sadness along with his chess board and all of Garcia’s extravagance in pink cannot hide that she is missing her heart.

“What’s so urgent that it couldn’t wait until the morning briefing?” Rossi asks. There’s no bite in the words and he leaves plenty of space for friendly ribbing about being interrupted mid-cookery or other activities.

Hotch doesn’t take the bait.

“New York Metro police has a string of daytime murders they want us to look into. 22 caliber bullets. On the stroke of noon.”

Reid sits up. “Did they find the tarot card?”

Somewhere in that big brain of his, those two pieces of information were enough to bring back the case, complete with notes, observations, profiles and the things they withheld from the press. Things it took four bodies for the local LEOs to string together.

“They did, but it seems to be a different card. No one made the connection until tonight. The New York field office called me as soon as Metro contacted them. DHS is also inbound.”

“That’s a whole lot of three letter acronyms throwing weight around.”

“No kidding.” Hotch pulls the handful of manilla folder from his bag. He hands out the crisp new copies, but keeps the slightly yellowed original from 2008. “Rossi, I want you at Federal Plaza. We need to make sure information gets shared. We won’t have time for glory hounding.”

“Shouldn’t you be the one liaising?”

“I—” Hotch stops, reflexively touches his left ear. It’s still tender in the pressurized cabin. “I would rather not,” he says at last.

“Understood.” Rossi nods in reassurance. “I’ll take Reid with me.”

Read on Ao3

[13thangler]

⊹₊ ⋆ ʚ┊𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥┊ ɞ ⊹₊ ⋆

╰⪼┆𝓥𝓲𝓷𝔂𝓵𝓮 🦊🐊 ☆ ┊… Ongoing ┊… M/M ┊… Lyle gets reincarnated in a book ┊… Rating M (may change) ╰┈┈┈➤ 🔗: archiveofourown.org/works/59875759/

[basslinegrave]

pin-up

b&w originals

[unknownmusing]

Ioroche Fic Snippet - 'Saving One's Enemy'

PROLOGUE - 'Not Leaving One's Enemy Behind to be Captured'

 It been just an overhearing of some of Henselt's soldiers discussing about how they captured an elf - a particular elf wanted especially in certain places - when Vernon had been rescuing Anais, that had made him stiffen knowing precisely who they could only mean.

It didn't surprise him that Iorveth had arrived at the Summit, because the elf had arrived in Vergen at the sametime he and Geralt had arrived at the front gates. Vernon, had wondered when sitting in the sleeping qaurters he'd been given how his long-term enemy had reached Vergen quicker than him and Geralt.

Scrambling through the ruined buildings he reaches the area where spots Iorveth standing surrouded by a bunch of Kaedwen soldiers, ragged-looking - one hand gripping his side, meaning he already been wounded - and tightly gripping his curved sword in his free hand, snarling at the sneers, jeering and crude words that the soldiers are saying to him.

They were like hyenas toying with their prey.

Getting his crossbow, Vernon, places a bolt in it then lifting it up aims it at the closest soldier approaching his long-term enemy, finger on the trigger - part of him screaming that leave him, he's not your friend and other half knowing he cannot leave the Scotieal to a fate of being killed or even worse taken to one of many Island Prisons he heard rumours about.

He pulls the trigger.

--------------

"No matter how many of these bastards die, it won't be enough...." Iorveth grumbles out, holding his injured side, plus making sure the gems, gold pouches and other valuables he pinched from the dead Kaedwen' soldiers, grumbles out labourly following Vernon Roche - his long-term enemy, plus a Dhoine who he had become interested in.

"Here, elf." Vernon interrupts his grumbling, indicating to come to stone-brick wall only to sqaut down low looking at something in the distance which Iorveth cannot see from his height advantage. "Wait. Don't come up yet....They were gaurding the road ahead....We need to to find another way...."

From Vernon's advantage point he sees that a blockade as been well set up, meaning the Kaedwen or Nilfgaardian soldiers have gotten wise that a prisoner has escaped or heard the sounds of fighting that blocking all escape paths.

"Come, hold my hand. You're injured. It should a be a little hard to climb up...." Vernon says, holding out his fingerless gloved hand to Iorveth, who looks up at with befuddled look on his face - probably not expecting his long-term enemy to help him.

A gloved hand grabs hold of his, allowing Vernon even though with some struggling - occasional grunts, sweat beading his forehead and straining all muscles - to get the elf up onto the ledge, finding himself not being able to stop the comment that coms out his mouth.

"Ughhh....As an elf.....you are quite heavy, Iorveth...."

"Fuck...." Iorveth mutters, knowing he should have limited what he pinched - it seems it was weighing him down - that comes back with retort to distract Vernon from enquiring further on his weight.

"Shut up, Dhoine. Why do you want to save me?"

Vernon, standing up straiight for a moment wonders how should he answer the elf he just saved. Tell the truth or tell a lie.

He tells the truth.

"Because I don't want to see you die at the hands of that pig, Henselt." Vernon spits out, the memory of seeing his dead Blue Stripes hanging from the rafters of the large tent - three though missing, he hoped they were still alive - and Ves, what had happened to her even worse that he just wants to confront Henselt straight away. "And now we have a common enemy....that bastard who killed my men...."

So absorbed in the memory, Vernon, doesn't sense the hand coming up to his behind but stiffens in shock when sudden rub of it makes his eyes widen at it. The audacity of the elf he just saved.

A slapping noise echoes in the space around them.

-------------------

Geralt, standing by the large gated entrance with Anais and Triss, finds himself pacing back and forth as Letho - who he just saved from being taken prison and revealed everything about his past after they had shared drink - jokes he will wear a groove into the stone-work if not careful that he gives a slight irritated snarl at the Viper Witcher.

Suddenly a commation makes him turn to see Vernon Roche, stomping up to him with his face though an embarassed shade of crimson and behind bearing a hand-print bruise on his cheek a ragged-looking, bruised and battered Iorveth, making Geralt realise why Vernon had taken so long.

"Well!!! Witcher!!! This damm squirrel should be beaten silly!!" Vernon grits out, brushing past him to get the large entrance gate open so they can all leave giving a glare towards Letho, who just smirks in bemusement.

"Because this always district me..." He had overheard Iorveth mutter under his breath, confirms his hunch that Iorveth had been eying up Vernon's behind and probably took a grope resulting in the slap across the face. Looking over his shoulder, he goes to check to fully confirm when large slap on his own ass startles him he jumps slightly turning to whirl around to confront Letho, with snarl of "You damm....Viper.....I....wasn't....mfff!!!" only to be pulled into lip-smashing kiss silencing his protests as Iorveth, waltzes past with a smirk on his face towards Vernon, who's waiting for help.

----------------------

PART 1 - 'When Feelings Begin to Arise for One's Enemy'

2 MONTHS LATER

Vernon, making his way through the makeshift camp of mixture of Blue Stripes - new recruits - and Scoeateal can feel the bristling tension between both parties - the elves whispering amongst themselves in their own language and the new recruits of his Blue Stripes, whispering about the concern they we're having to share camp with Squirrels.

It gives him headache that has to stop close-by to Iorveth's tent - though not meaning too - pinching the bridge of his nose to relieve it then makes his way up a ridge to where his own tent is located, placed above the rest of the camp so he could overlook what goes below.

Above the large cave which the makeshift camp is in, a crack allows for sunlight to filter downwards in shafts of sunlight in different areas, while on the cave-walls various climbing flowers and ivy grow and further in alcove area carved Elvish Goddess statue - so large it towers above the makeshift camp - with a sakura blossom tree growing on a mound of moss and wildflowers with boulders of what must been an arch wrapped up in the roots of the tree.

Lifting the curtain flap of his tent he steps within the interior, finding himself going to slip of his chaperon off when notices someone is sitting at the large desk he's being using to look at maps, documents and artifacts which Letho and Geralt had collected from the extensive Elvish ruins connected to large cave where the makeshift camp is.

"What do you want, Iorveth?" He grumbles out, not really in the mood to talk with his long-term enemy who sits calmly smoking his pipe, looking like he belonged in Vernon's tent and had always been sharing it with him.

"I see you've accepted my gifts." Iorveth replies, pointing the stem of his pipe to the Courting Gifts on the dresser which Vernon, even though tempted to throw them away had instead accepted. A part of him actually liking the gifting.

"I.....had no choice.. Ves, would murder me in my sleep if got....rid of them." Vernon states, walking over to where the screen partition is to to get changed into simple tunic and breeches - not realising Iorveth having already angled the dresser mirror a certain way can see everything he's doing - then steps out, going over to the drinks decanter area where goes to pour himself a drink.

"Hmm, really...." Iorveth's voice close to his ear, the elf's large hands sliding down his sides to rest them on his hips, while he blushes slightly at the touch and warmth of it then continues to speak. "I think it's something more, Vernon, isn't it?"

"That's none of your business, Squirrel..." Vernon replies, managing to slip away needing to compose himself. Iorveth was his enemy, plus a Wanted Scotieal in many of the Kingdoms and an elf who was so different from the one's down below in the makeshift camp

And yet, part of his mind wanted the elf - wanted that touch he had felt when they been making their way down the cliff-path to reach the cave, a strong hand wrapped around his waist so he didn't fall into a crevice; pulling him back when loose boulders came careening down from above to fall into abyss where underground river flowed and sharing his water pouch when Vernon felt thirsty.

He feels Iorveth embrace him again, one hand coming up to cup his chin turning his face slightly and another move to rest on his hip, seeing a single forest-green emerald eye staring into his then lips cover his in an unexpected kiss, startling him slightly before finds himself beginning to slowly try to copy what Iorveth is doing back - even though he is inexperienced and never been kissed before.

It begins to become bolder, Iorveth changing position each-time to deepen the kissing between them with a tongue which been flicking over his lips seeking permission to enter his mouth soon beginning to entwine with his in overwhelming dance, while saliva is either exchanged or dribbles down the side of their mouths. Heat is flooding throughout his body, his cheeks going crimson, soft breathless mewls escaping him and desperation seeking in him in wanting more, needing more of what Iorveth is giving him. He has never, ever felt this way before

--------------------

3 DAYS LATER

It's either joke or some very badly drawn Wanted Poster that makes Vernon, look at with trying to make sense what was the point in drawing and putting it up - plus using Iorveth as the focal point.

Or was for trying to recruit more Elves to join the camp?

Then he notices below are the words 'WANT YOU, VERNON ROCHE" making baulk heavily at seeing it. If Iorveth had created this, then maybe instead of allowing the elf to kiss him in his tent, overwhelm him with just caresses and leaving him a twitching overwhelmed mess on his futon that he was glad they hadn't taken their clothes off. Though to admit Iorveth's tongue was weapon in itself.

"Damm, squirrel, what the hell is he thinking? I'm not some kind of recruitment....urgh.....!!!"

Vernon mutters under his breath, not realising the said elf is standing right behind him - his face showing certain expression on it.

----------------------

"IORVETH!!!!?"

Is the first thing Geralt hears shouted half-way across the camp when him and Letho come down the pathway from one of the Elvish ruins entrances, passing the large Sakura blossom and Elvish Goddess statue seeing already Iorveth's men are handing out ear-plugs

"I told him it was bad idea putting that poster up." Geralt grumbles out.

------------------

After shouting himself hoarse and berating Iorveth for putting up the poster, Vernon lays on his futon with his white tunic still on as Iorveth, slips his own gambeson off to place to one side close to Vernon's black breeches revealing a well-toned body, the leaf-vine tattoo which weaves it way down from the elf's neck.

Curious about it, Vernon raises a finger to trace it's path from where it starts before coming to halt just above Iorveth's abdomen finding himself blushing heavily, moving his finger away.

"I...Ummm.....never really been with anyone before....I mean I've.....What I'm saying..." Vernon begins to say, only to tail off not really knowing how to state that when Iorveth kissed him it was his first kiss he ever experienced.

"It's alright, enca-minne...." Iorveth reassures him, knuckles gently stroking his cheek as the elf leans down to kiss him on the lips with his free hand sliding down between their bodies where he arches slightly off the futon at the touch of it. ".....I'll be gentle...."

-------------

Vernon cannot describe in words how making love with Iorveth, only hold the elf close to him - one hand sifting through Iorveth's hair and other holding his shoulder; another moment clasping hands together with him looking down at the elf as he rides him in a slow dance spreading pleasure through his body.

Then it changes again with the elf holding him from behind as he stays on his hands and knees, hips undulating back and forth at a gentle, slow pace - every thrust making breathless mewls, gasps and pants come from him. Hands hold his hips in protective grip or choose to wrap around his waist when Iorveth gets fully over him breathless grunts and pants spilling in his ear from the elf making love to him.

"Ha haaa.....Don't stop.....please....Don't stop..." Vernon pants out, undulating his own hips back into the thrusts in sync with Iorveth's allowing himself to be pulled into a overwhelming kiss - their tongues entwining - as both of them sink into the pleasure their giving each-other.

----------------

Sidenote:

Part 4 yet to be typed up.

WIP fic

Main couple - Iorveth and Vernon

Secondary couple - Letho and Geralt

Slow-burn romance

Elvish courtship methods

🐿⚜️

Elven Courtship Customs

These Elvish>

(Duettaeánn aef cirrán Cáerme Gláeddyv. Yn á esseáth)

The Sword of Destiny has two edges. You are one of them,Vernon Roche

(Aen verelith cyrre naid, En'ca minne, Elaine blath, Feainnewedd)

I give you my heart. my love, Beautiful flower, Sun Child

[caramellody]

Yall i dont think im gonna be able to stop thinking about usha and g13, actually.

Ushas an old old woman, clueless with tech. Lived long enough to develop various bonds with a LOT of people and relies on them a lot for help. In turn, shes VERY loyal to her close conpanions (a great example would be how she tends to back paula up a LOT, the way she sets up russel and paula to 'fake date' wink and all). She's very warm and very emotionally intelligent even if she's a bit clueless sometimes. Her logic is borderline incomprehensible, but it has heart.

G13 on the other hand, is a hacking prodigy. Hes young, hes sought after for his skills for better and for worse. But in turn, he's essentially lost himself in the process. He may be able to scrape nuke codes, but he'll never make a friend. He lacks any loyalty for anyone and anything except for himself and his interests, and if they dont satisfy those two points, then its worth nothing to him. His logic may be sound, but its cold.

[journey-to-the-attic]

(有点晚的) 新年快乐!

happy (a little belated) lunar new year!! sorry i haven't been answering asks, been a busy week - i'll try to get to that tomorrow ^^

[meamiki]

a star being appeared in your apartment, wdyd?

(aka loop getting reverse isekaied into the modern office au)

also there are some scattered mumblings on loop in this AU under the cut actually in an rb now link right here if anyone's interested (spoilers for all of ISAT, including 2hats!)

[unknownmusing]

Dark Anthology Pictures Fanfic: 'The Crow's Lover'

Summary:

A backstory about the mysterious man known only as the Curator, who collects stories of intrigue, mystery and death.

But this is not a backstory about those stories, instead it is about the daily life of the Curator and another person who came into his life.

This person is sometimes seen, but most of the visitors who are visiting the Curator's residence believe that the person is a figment of their imagination.

You see though, Dear Reader, in fact this person is very real and this is their's and the Curator's tale - one which shows a different side to the mysterious man that you may find interesting to learn can possess feelings for another like ourselves.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------Notes:

Inspired by the wonderful artwork of the Curator by the Artist @yayoineko (https://www.tumblr.com/yayoineko/tagged/Dark%20Pictures%20Anthology)

Have not played the games, but have watched playthroughs on Youtube of all four games.

Relationship: The Curator/Female OC, with some hint of Jason Kolchek/Salim Othman relationship in the background as characters who the Curator trusts to help when a mysterious figure from Peristera's past begins to appear

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Prologue - The First Page

Peristera's P.O.V:

I don't really remember when exactly I arrived at the large Mansion the Curator stays in, just waking up in an attic converted into a bedroom with a circular window overlooking a abandoned garden:

Various Greek-like statues dotted here and there, most of them having fallen over and left lying in their place; some cracked and chipped in places covered in by a combination of ivy and moss bearing small flowers.

A fountain choked up with autumnal leaves coming from the barren sketetal trees meaning that harsh winter was coming in. 

Thinking about this particular memory, it makes me wonder whether the garden had been beautiful in the past or had it always been like this. From what I know of the large garden from exploring it when I had time, it shows signs in various different areas of it, that someone had made sure to keep it well-tended to and cared for in those particular areas:

the rose garden with rows of trellis for the climbing roses; a sitting area where a sunhouse is located, though the paint of the sunhouse on it is now faded and cracked in places due to years of weathering and finally, located way back of the large residence an tall onimous looking clocktower, with just close beside it an outdoor swimming pool which must have been a joy and delight to enjoy during a hot summer.

CHIME CHIME!!!

A sudden interruption of the Grandfather clock down below on the lower floor below the mezzanine balcony where above it I'm busy sorting out some books on one of the long row of bookshelves reminds me that the Curator will be returning from wherever he goes sometimes. 

He never told me precisely where he went all the time and I never asked him. I respected his privacy as he respected mine.

---------------------------

Reaching up to place a book on the bookshelf from the library trolley, it's the sound of the double doors to the large repository openin makes me flick my gaze down over the mezzine library railing to see it is the Curator has returned.

Though something doesn't feel right, it's like he's been heavily ruffled by something with the way he's struggling off his coat to place on the clothes rack-stand, along with his hat.

He moves away to walk over to the large study desk, lighting a solitary candle in the ornate black metal candle holder on the desk, before going over to the lower bookshelf to collect a long journal book placing it under the crook of his arm as he goes to return back to his desk.

Concern for wanting to know what's wrong, only to realise I really don't know what to say so go back to placing a book on the bookshelf when on of them on the trolley in the process of picking the one to place on the bookshelf falls off the trolley to down below.

The thud of it echoes loud in the respitory, hearing him pause in walking over to his desk turning to flick his gaze to the source of what made the 'thud' noise.

"Hmm? What this?"

The Curator asks to himself, going over to the fallen book which he bends down to pick up, turning it over to look at the cover.

"How convenient just the book I'm looking for."

Still standing in the mezzanine library, part of me feels ashamed because I had not caught it from falling down below and other knowing that it is just a small accident that happened.

Why though was I ashamed? Was it because I could caught the book and not let it fall?

"Peristera (Dove), is something wrong?" I'm suddenly asked, it startles me that nearly fall backwards when his arms catch me, before I can hit my head on the wooden mezzanine floorboards.

[mwagneto]

HAAANK DON'T GET MAD AT SCIFI FOR NOT MAKING SENSE HAAAAANK !!! IT'S A METAPHOR FOR REAL LIFE THAT'S MEANT TO MAKE YOU ASK QUESTIONS HANK YOU DON'T NECESSARILY HAVE TO UNDERSTAND THE EXACT MECHANICS!!!! HAAAANK

[innermuse24]

SymBrock Fanfic: 'Symbosis Entwined Like Thorns of a Rose Wrapping Around One's Body, But Not Harming One' or  'Love Thy Venom'

----------------- Summary:

Symbiosis - interaction between two different organisms living in close physical association, typically to the advantage of both.

This is what Venom and Eddie have and this is their story on how it become more.

---------------------------

Notes:

Eddie Brock and Venom Relationship

A/B/O dynamics e.g Venom is an Alpha Symbiote and so Eddie to him is an Omega

Eddie becomes a Omega for Venom

Eddie still keeps in touch with Annie

Venom speak in in bold italics when it Eddie Brock's P.O.V and normal italics when Venom's P.O.V

Sexaul intercourse or Mating

Mpreg

Violence, Gore and Heads being bitten off in future chapters to be written up

Carnage will make a appearance e.g. the person that we all saw at the end of the film that Eddie met in the San Quentin Prison

---------------------------

Part 1 - Prologue: 'An Alpha always Protects their Omega, even if Both are being Hunted by another Predator' ---------------

Eddie Brock's P.O.V:

Eddie.

"Hmmm…..Five more minutes, please?…"

EDDIE!!!!

Venom shouting that in my ear at about 5 telepathically in my head makes me shoot up in my nice, warm cosy bed with shout of "CHRIST SAKES, YOU BLOOMING MOTHERFUCKER!!!" then lay back down, hearing him shifting to lean over me.

His symbotiate body rippling like ink in water or oil spreading outwards because literally it was so fluid and almost to mind seductive-looking then ruffling one hand through my hair, yawn to wake myself up and check the time seeing it is about 6:03 in the morning with sunlight filtering through a gap in the curtains of where I now live.

I had moved to nice street house, close to Annie and sold the the Apartment - the old one, that had got trashed literally after escaping from Carlton's goons and Venom well being what he was being the one who had done the damaging in the first place.

Calmly I look up at him. He soon leans down, nuzzling affectionately against my cheek - which truth be told he been doing a lot and without any explanation or reason why - and licking my lips to wet them decide to test myself to see how Venom will react to it.

Turning my face, I kiss him on the cheek lightly and pull back, feeling him peel away from me in the process. This surprises me at the action, because previously he just said "Hungry" when I had done that once and I would get us something both to eat then watch him now solidify until becoming a skinny version of himself almost.

Lying there seeming to want to say something to me in almost could I even say seductive 'Come-hither' pose.

"What's wrong? Venom, talk me to me." I ask, sitting on the side of the bed and he seems to be complementing what do next then his clawed hands reach up to take hold of both of my cheeks.

I'm pulled closer to him, while he seems to be trembling slightly like whatever he is feeling is frightening him him and it is me who makes the first move pressing my lips against his to test his reaction then feel him kiss me back, lifting me up onto my knees so were chest to chest and pelvis to pelvis.

He makes the sweetest mewls in the kissing, when I change position each-time to deepen it and flicking my tongue over his lips feel him open his mouth as I do the same for him then his very long tongue entwines with mine.

It becomes slow dance of exotic, strange harmony as saliva is either exchanged or dribbles down the side of our mouths and yet, neither of us are wanting to stop what were doing even when their is knock on the front door followed by shout of "PIZZA DELIVERY!!! HELLO, IS ANYONE IN!!! ALRIGHT I'LL LEAVE IT ON THE DOORSTEP." then Venom purrs softly in our kissing, grabbing my ass-cheeks with both hands and giving them a tight squeeze making me release my lips to moan heavily at the action of it.

He sits back, pulling me down into his lap and begins to rip of the t-shirt and boxers to shreds until I'm bare for him then moves one hand between my ass-cheeks where strangely I feel some kind of strange wetness!!!….No, Eddie….it feels more like slickness…..Maybe Venom will know….starting to seep out of my puckered entrance to trickle down the inside of my thighs.

"Eddie. Omega." He purrs out, making me in some strange way understand because of what and where he came from as he calmly and gently, lifts me up slightly as I decide to look down seeing the erect cock he has a bead of what could pre-cum already forming.

Slipping a hand down, I touch it gently hearing him purr softly and wonder what would it be like to taste - the pre-cum - or have it in my mouth to lick, suck and swirl my tongue around then he moves my hand out the way, going back to spreading both my ass-cheeks to expose the gaping, twitching leaking pucker with slickness dribbling out of it.

He slams me down hard, causing me to arch my back slightly with an exclamation of "OH GOD, VEN…OM!!!" at the feel of him entering his cock into me in one single thrust then lower my head to look down at him, seeing only…..Love for me.

"Does it hurt?"

"No….it feels really good actually. You can move. I won't break, Parasite."

"You are going regret saying that word to your Alpha."

"Then you better punish your….naughty Omega, then Alpha."

"Hmm….let's see how many times I can make you cum and scream in pleasure than."

------------------------------------

Eddie Brock's P.O.V:

"Hey, Mrs. Chen."

"Eddie, did you bring Ve-Ve?"

"Here I am."

Mrs. Chen smiles at the sight of seeing Venom again, when he appears from out of my shoulder throwing him some of her home-baked chocolate cookies - one thing he loved eating, along with biting of heads of bad guys we stumbled into or upon or they stumbled upon us - then scratches under his chin - another thing he liked as well - making him purr heavily in delight.

"What you been doing, Eddie? You look…well….well-fucked to be said." She asks me, making me blush to high heaven and doing a pretend coughing fit as memories of Venom filling me again and again until I was as she just said "Well-fucked" by him into the mattress come to the forefront of my mind.

This causes Venom to turn a bright shade of pink, quickly giving an excuse by eating more of the cookies hearing the shop bell gently tinkling as a another customer comes in making him quickly go back into my body.

Grabbing the plate, I make it look I was eating the cookies and take a bite out of one, finding them surprisely better than supermarket ones as old man with salt and pepper hair, plus glasses as small dog on a lead keeps close to them.

"The usual, Mrs. Chen." They say, making her smile softly and get some packet of custard creams and teabags from behind the counter, while finishing off the last cookie decide to head home.

"Thanks for the cookies, Mrs. Chen." I say, handing her back the plate and head out of the shop into the busy street where people are going back and forth their daily lives, while I head in the direction of home.

Eddie, were being followed.

Venom saying that in my head, makes me go on full-alert mode feeling him rippling slightly under my skin like water waiting to burst out of dam and keep on walking reaching for my phone to make it seem I'm just getting a phone-call from a friend and answering it.

"Yeah. Oh, what? Really, No way, man…just talking about that last night with my neighbour. Yeah, big shit wasn't it. Hmmm…hmm….I hear you."

Turn to the left.

Doing as Venom says, I quickly turn to the left and sink into an alleyway filled with darkness has the person passes by making me stiffen when I feel Venom coming out of my shoulder, inhaling silently their passing scent then satisfied they have gone slips back into my body.

I go to step out the alleyway when suddenly bloodcurdling scream fills the empty silence and quickly running out see a sight that makes me look in shock and how was it possible.

Crimson, pulsating and writhing mass looking like Venom only the vibes coming off them like literally it was like whoever was the Host of this Symbotiate was mad as they grab another person tearing them apart to gorge on them, licking their lips with long forked tongue.

"Mask." I find myself saying, feeling Venom shoot out and ripple over my body to fully cover me as I sink downwards into like I'm falling through water allowing myself to be drag down into the gaping maw below in the abyss.

--------------------

Venom/ Eddie Brock's P.O.V:

We open our eyes, looking at the Crimson Symbotiate in front of us.

They writhe and pulsate, turning to face me followed by licking their lips clean of the spilled blood and grab another victim licking their face with their long tongue causing a whimper to come from the person they hold tightly in their grip then fling them in front of S.W.A.T causing it to career into at the same-time the Crimson symbotiate slams into us hard.

An explosion of crimson and black happens, followed by snarling at them with fangs bared and saliva forming while forming sharp claws to rip them off our chest to slam them down on the pavement as they peel back the mask of their face to reveal who they are to us.

"Hello, Venom."

We open our eyes, looking at the Crimson Symbiote in front of us.

They writhe and pulsate, turning to face me followed by licking their lips clean of the spilled blood and grab another victim licking their face with their long tongue causing a whimper to come from the person they hold tightly in their grip then fling them in front of the S.W.A.T van causing it to career into at the same-time the Crimson symbotiate slams into us hard.

An explosion of crimson and black happens, followed by snarling at them with fangs bared and saliva forming while forming sharp claws to rip them off our chest to slam them down on the pavement as they peel back the mask of their face to reveal who they are to us.

We wrench free from them. They slowly get up, walking up to us while a red claw slowly touches our chest and strokes downwards as they grin up at us then bring a long tongue upwards to lick some blood that splattered onto our cheek at some point, making us both flinch at this action.

“Enough.” We growl out, grabbing hold of their shoulders to push them back and away from us only for the crimson to start mixing with us and they press closer to us - creating a mixed, writhing mass of jet-black and crimson, while we try to get free.

"I don't think so. I've been looking for you...." They hiss out, long forked tongue flickering out heavily, followed by bringing up their clawed hands to cup our cheeks heavily dragging the claws down as we hear Eddie screaming internally when blood begins to trickle down our cheeks.

Hearing our Omega screaming in pain, we immediately block out everything around us to try and reach out only to be suddenly wrenched away from him by a sudden force.

--------------------------------

Eddie Brock's P.O.V:

Being flung away from Venom, I feel his ink-like tendrils reaching out to me only for something to slam away from them hard it sends me flying into a restaurant window where people scatter inside, when I land heavily on the restaurant floor with bits of shattered glass around me, splintered wood and China plates smashed into small white pieces.

Weakly lifting my head, the sight out the shattered restaurant window shows the black fluid-ness of Venom being forced to mix with the crimson symbotiate in such a way it makes me grab a shard of glass gripping it tightly when I clambered out of the shattered resident window feeling blood starting to trickle down the palm of my hand due to how tightly I’m gripping the glass shard.

Approaching the writhing mass of crimson and inky black, there is no second thoughts as I bring the glass shard down into the crimson symbiote's neck hearing it giving a deadly screech of pain when I do so, followed by whirling around to confront who had stabbed it allowing for Venom to wrench free, lunging towards me to roll me out of the way when it slams a crimson barbed tentacle down where I had been standing.

Holding me close to his chest, Venom begins run heavily heading towards an alleyway where he jumps up to the rooftops causing me to grip him tightly being slightly afraid of heights hearing not far behind the other symbotiate starting to follow.

------------------------------------

Eddie…..?

“I’m alright…..just…”

Tailing off, I find myself being laid down on the altar steps of an abandoned church, above the rafters covered in cobwebs which billow slightly back and forth due to breeze coming through holes in the roof and above us there is a intact circular, ornate stained glass window of many coloured hues.

His large, clawed hand comes up to cradle the back of my head, sifting through my hair making a trilling Omegan purr – something I had discovered during our Mating that I could form when being appreciated by my Alpha – which makes him lean downwards to start scent-marking me heavily, coating me in his rich, musky scent to indicate to another Alpha I was his and only his.

Bringing my hands to place around his shoulders, soft breathless mewls, gasps and pants begin to fill the empty space as his long tongue trails up and down my neck, causing me to tilt my head backwards to expose it to him more.

At the moment during this short moment of peace, he rolls us both so I'm straddling him where he gives soft nips to my throat - marking me - until pulling back to rest his forehead against mine then yawning heavily, move to lay my head on his chest feeling him wrap his tendrils around me to keep me in his embrace. 

There was something about Crimson Symbiote which had felt familiar - like they were someone I knew - and yet, I couldn't remember at the moment who they reminded me off. 

A clawed hand massaging my head soothes me, hearing myself making a trilling sleepy purr before slipping my eyes close. 

--------------------------------------

Sitting on a rooftop of some apartments, which are across the street from the church bearing a stained circular, ornate stained glass window the Crimson Symbiote watches silently where it can tell where it's prey is within. 

A sweet, fertile Omega with such a rich scent it makes them salivate at the thought of capturing them. The opportunity was to much to miss, even if they had an Alpha already protecting them.

The black Symbiote it had heard rumours about from various sources, but to see who was bonded to it made them heat up in such a way it felt like Hunting for Prey. 

Soon the crimson mask pulls back slightly revealing behind it a face of a someone who knew Eddie Brock very much from reading the journalist's articles which the man had written and watching him go about his daily life, alongside....the black Symbiote. 

A lightening flash illuminates their face, revealing only briefly that of...Cletus Kasady - a serial killer - smirking in delight before the crimson mask covers his face once more, a guttural hiss escaping with fangs forming at the thrill of....continuing the Hunt which had started. 

----------------------------

 For @apastandfuturenerd, @avidreadr2004, @thewitchofstjohns, plus any other Symbrock fans out there

[hermit-writes]

You Make Sense of the Devil

Summary

A ghost from the BAU past reappears and drags up unfinished business for Aaron Hotchner. The ripples are enough to call back missing team members and spread well beyond the circle of his influence.

Tags

James “Bucky” Barnes/Emily Prentiss

Timeline What Timeline, MCU fusion, Criminal Minds fusion, Implied Past Non-Con, liberties were taken with the legal system, Case Fic, International Fanworks Day 2023, No One Is Okay, canon typical trauma, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Excerpt

The hand of the watch stuttered as it ticked forward. Of course it did. The cheap, quartz-driven mechanism wasn’t up to the degree of atomic precision the Mission deserved. The watches had been bought in bulk from overseas two corporate shell-games ago. Untraceable, carrying no zombie-link to snitch on them and expose their location. There would be time for that later. Much later. He wondered if he would be there to witness it. A selfish wish.

“Head down, shoulders up. Don’t fidget. Don’t draw attention. You’re no-one. You are everyone. You’re the City. You belong where they don’t.”

The gun in his hand is heavy. As carefully coated in anonymity as the rest of him, it was small, disposable. Heavy. As the seconds tick the implications piled up, a leaded drape of doubts. Weakness. Too late now.

The stroke of noon echoed in tandem with the crack of his gun. One bullet. One dead.

Make them feel it.

We’re here.

---

“Yes. Are you sure?”

Hotch hears the thin electronic voice through the government-approved landline. But he’s really listening to his own voice, saying these same words across a gulf of years. The desk under his fingers feels like bone instead of polished wood. Vertebrae doused with arterial bleed, desperation and the screaming din of smoke in air.

“We’re on our way.”

Compartmentalizing. Part of himself takes notes, grabs his go bag from its transient home beneath his desk. The mountain of paperwork will await another night, to be brought home while Jack sleeps. While Jack talks about his day at school and of all the bright things out in his world, where sometimes his Dad can follow but never, quite, Hotch.

Phone trees ring into the night, calling back the team, to rip them from the shreds of their lives. again. Hotch walks down to the file storage. There was one more thing he needed before the flight.

The other parts of Aaron Hotchner walk along the sour-coffee and ink ghost of Jason Gideon, and the raw burnt edges of Elle’s memory, along with all those he’d lost to this unit before. All those who got away.

Read on Ao3

[hplonesomeart]

Whoops hand slipped here’s some TADC character fanart. Apologies for the severe lack of Pomni in this one idk where she went off to…maybe she got lost on her way to find the exit. The lines are incredibly choppy & rushed, I know, but it was still fun art practice! I don’t draw these guys nearly enough anyways so this is a nice change of pace. Support indie animation :3

[thatonecrookedsmile]

"Gaze into the space between the pixels on the screen There, you’ll see a place between the signal and the screams Feel the oscillation of the crystal in your dreams Just switch off your brain and let it sizzle in the beams"

-----

It took a matter of months to finish this drawing. (/j, it only took. 2 weeks? I think? maybe a little less,but that's an approximate)

It's been a while since I made a digital drawing. So far between April and now I have focused more on traditional drawings with digital coloring. These are (mostly) cool to do,but it's nice to go back to full digital every now and then. This is one of the cases where the original idea and the final result don't differ that much from each other,but there was still a certain evolution from when I conceived the drawing and how I ended up doing it. The Main Thing of the original idea is still here,I just expanded it a little.

Also,the lyrics at the beginning are from "Tune Into The Madness" by The Stupendium and Dan Bull. Great song,and one that I was listening to a lot at the time I was reading the book (and much earlier too). Because,you know. Mix of horror and TV. It made sense. (And yes,I know this song is about a totally different game,and the TV context in both stories are very different (as far as I remember, it's been a while since I played LN2) but I thought the lyrics could match the drawing anyway + it's my chance to recommend peak, so yeah) Listen to the song, it's very good! (The video do contains flashing images and lights tho,so viewer discretions is adviced)

Also,alt. versions without the text,because I thought that without the text it looks good too (+ you can now see Bendy's face)