sparrowswing

[infecxtion-deactivated20200226]

Make me feel

[[ :3c your wish is my command,]

He’s in Cambodia when he sees them. 

They’re worn and handmade, just the right side of glint to be actual gold. They dangle from a wooden peg on a shopkeepers cart. The scuffs and marks hint at them being reused, recycled on this black market street that he finds himself on. A post-war oblivion, omnics and people attempting to scrimp side-by-side.

Poverty knows no race, after all- be it by skin color, or flesh. 

It’d been a relatively easy mission, the hit in and out on a hidden terrorist base and the subsequent set up for humanitarian aid under the guise of the newest set of monsoon flooding that’s happened recently. Jack had been excited to do some good, and it made him smile to think about his best friend’s enthusiasm for helping people.

Even when they don’t deserve it.

His purchase goes into one of the many pockets of his jacket- a nod to the woman as he makes his way past. The darkness of his skin and the glibness of his tongue makes him able to blend in anywhere, even here- with his muted Blackwatch armor.  His mind is already far away back in Zurich, ready for the scent of whiskey and the touch of wood smoke. He thinks of a drawling tone, the easy way the other man shapes his words and draws out the vowels into something honeyed and decadent.

A dessert he gets to unwrap time after time.

He thinks about Vincent and Jack’s subsequent break up, the heartbreak in the blonde along with his return to duty, throwing himself into his work. He thinks of long hours, of hollowed eyes. He thinks of an ochre-colored serape and chestnut hair, of kisses sharp with alcohol and need. His fingers curl around the items in his pocket, rubbing fingers over them and tightening them against his palm like a talisman.

He won’t make the same mistakes, pushing away someone he loves in favor of something like this. He may not need the rings, bu the’d sure like to see them against his finger. 

He only hopes that when he asks, Jesse’ll say yes.

[ao3commentoftheday]

I love writing fanfics but can’t seem to ever end up finishing any of them, eventually leaving the readers hanging when I hit writer’s block and they deserve better than that. Any tips for how to push through and finish a work?

If you’re blocked, there are two ways that you can “unstick” unstick yourself:

Skip the scene that you’re stuck on and write another chunk of the story that happens later on. Then you just have to bridge the gap from where you are to where you’re going to be. It can be a lot easier when you’ve got the next bit already written. 

Go back to what you’ve written previously. See if you’ve painted yourself into a corner that you can’t get out of. If you have, edit those earlier scenes to give yourself a way out. It might mean a drastic overhaul, or it might mean a character noticing something that you can later use to get them out of whatever jam they’re in. 

Those are what work for me. What about the rest of you?

[joeybelle]

Here’s what works for me, might not work for everybody else: 

1. Decide (if you haven’t done it yet) where you want the story to end. 

It’s best to have some sort of outline. Even a super simple one like this is where the story starts, this happens next, this after, this is where I would like it to end. You can always add to that, change things around, completely change the ending, but at least you will have an idea where you want it to go. For me not knowing where the story ends is a bit scary because, ‘what if i won’t figure it out as I write?’ Most of the time the ending has changed as I progressed with the story, sometimes radically, but it gave me peace of mind that I had something figured out either way.

2. Take some time to think about the story. 

Sometimes I get stuck because I have no idea what happens next. I might have already decided how the story ends, but not how I get there. Play the story in your head like a movie, give characters life in your imagination. Play a scene, replay it if it doesn’t feel right. You never know what ideas might hit you. 

Also throw ideas at a friend. Another person can help a lot with the brainstorming process, even if you only use them as a rubber duck. Some may even come with some great ideas! Some of my best ideas have been suggested by my friends. 

3. Take some time to get excited about your story once again.

I burn out very easily. If the story has 5 chapters, by the third I’m already done with it, tired, I don’t wanna see it, yeet it into the sun. Get away from it for a while if you need it. Do something else that you like, maybe write something else, but keep in mind that you’re not gonna give it up. Set a deadline. And come back to it. 

Try to get excited about your story once again. I know with multichaptered works the excitement fades as time passes. Nothing will ever be as exciting as the first chapter for me. But what I do is talk to people about it. Call my beta and tell her about my story once again, tell her about the next chapter, of how the story might end or that one scene that I really want to write.

If you don’t have real life friends there are writing communities around, there are a few discord more or less full of writers that will listen to you gush about your work. And most of the time it really helps to hear others gush about their work too. Get filled with that writing energy once again. And put it into the next chapter.

4. Write what you know and figure out the rest when you edit.

This one works for me very well, because most of the time I know where the action should go, but I don’t have the words to express it. So I write what I know, and it’s usually the dialogue. Sometimes I might write a piece of description that I have figured out between paragraphs of dialogue. Most of the time I leave notes for me in brackets like: [character A smashes a glass], [character B does this], [describe the view]. Then I come back when I edit and fill in the gaps. 

5. Relax, and take your time.

I know regular updates are the best, but it’s your story and you can do what you want. Tell yourself that you will finish the story, but on your own terms. I have a 140k, 23 chapter story that has just turned two, for which I’ve only posted 3 chapters last year. Yes, I will finish it, but I will work on it when I feel like it, and it might take me a long time to do so. 

6. Some stories will never be finished and it’s okay.

We all have that one story that we started full of enthusiasm and then never finished and no matter what we do now still aren’t able to get into it again. It’s okay. Say goodbye to it and move on, but try to finish the ones that you feel like you can finish. 

[bellsybuilds]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

To re-assert his dominance in Talon’s council, Akande first had to silence that young, dumb hard light engineer who kept talking back in team meetings. Unfortunately, Akande already met his monthly allocation of throwing colleagues over the ledge. Attempting to outsource the problem, Akande ends up in Rio de Janeiro: a huge mistake he will come to regret over and over again.

Co-written by @sparrowswing. Warnings for mild sexual content, violence and tripping out on time travel.

“Monsieur,” Lacroix murmured, her voice filling the void between stone and oak of the Rialto offices. “We have company.”

Sighing, Akande lowered his quarterly reports from Ogundimu Prostheses to bring up the feed of Lacroix’s visor-mounted camera. He should not have been looking at affairs from the business while overseeing a mission, but his recent distractions had disrupted… well, every routine.

His board of directors were the latest to loudly complain, so there he was in the control room of Talon’s museum offices, trusting his agents to ferry a simple load of arms and alcohol a few hundred metres.

Some instinct made him nervous as he summoned Lacroix’s feed, a flip in his stomach he hadn’t endured since–

“No,” he exhaled, the image crystalising into focus. He had paid for his team to be equipped with the very best, so there was no disputing the footage of the small squad obstructing the path of delivery.

Among them, a very short and familiar figure with a high ponytail of dreadlocks.

[sparrowswing]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 3/4 Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu/Lúcio Correia dos Santos Characters: Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu, Lúcio Correia dos Santos, Lena "Tracer" Oxton, Sanjay Korpal, Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix Additional Tags: Character Study, Angst, Revolutionary Lucio, Fresh out of Helix Akande, The Enemy of My Enemy, Time Travel Fix-It, Secret Relationship, Age Difference, Canon Compliant Summary:

To re-assert his dominance in Talon's council, Akande first had to silence that young, dumb hard light engineer who kept talking back in team meetings. Unfortunately, Akande already met his monthly allocation of throwing colleagues over the ledge. Attempting to outsource the problem, Akande ends up in Rio de Janeiro: a huge mistake he will come to regret over and over again.

[spicedrobot]

DRUNK SYMBROCK WOULD BE SO GOOD THOUGH.

We are out of drink, Eddie.

Eddie squints at the bottle in his hands and frowns. He tips it back with a defeated swing, catching the last drops of beer on his tongue before tossing the bottle away where it clatters against the others.

His chin settles onto his chest as he flips through his phone. Anne. Anne laughing over dinner. Anne kissing his cheek on New Year’s. Anne sleeping, her hair mussed, a glimmer of drool wetting her pillow. Anne clutching her bare chest, offering herself with a wicked, beautiful smile. Eddie groans.

We miss her.

He rubs his face and collapses against his ratty couch. If Eddie closes his eyes, his mind swims, emotions dulled like nails dragged against his clothes, felt but not painful. Venom’s quiet presence thrums, an ambiance like white noise warming his bones.

But we can give you what you need.

Keep reading

[sparrowswing]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 2/3 Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu/Lúcio Correia dos Santos Characters: Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu, Lúcio Correia dos Santos, Lena "Tracer" Oxton, Sanjay Korpal, Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix Additional Tags: Character Study, Angst, Revolutionary Lucio, Fresh out of Helix Akande, The Enemy of My Enemy, Time Travel Fix-It, Secret Relationship, Age Difference, Canon Compliant Summary:

To re-assert his dominance in Talon's council, Akande first had to silence that young, dumb hard light engineer who kept talking back in team meetings. Unfortunately, Akande already met his monthly allocation of throwing colleagues over the ledge. Attempting to outsource the problem, Akande ends up in Rio de Janeiro: a huge mistake he will come to regret over and over again.

[sparrowswing]

The first time Akande saw Lúcio Correia dos Santos, he stood in Akande’s arena: at the heart of a fighting pit, gleaming from the exertion of his contest. Beneath the bright lights in the abandoned sugar mill, Lúcio rose from his knees over his fallen opponent, and the referee took his wrist.

Months later, Akande would still remember how the earth trembled when Lúcio’s fist was thrust into the air. The crowd leaped, screaming, stamping their feet where they huddled in plastic chairs, crowded against the ring’s boundary, standing on boxes and storage containers, each desperate to share in their champion’s triumph. A haze of dust thickened the air, kicked up by worn sandals and polished boots. Akande felt their joyful roar like a boom of thunder; it resonated deep within his chest: a force of nature, enthralled and satisfied.

Rio had come to celebrate her hero’s return, and Lúcio had sated her hunger.

And so, Akande’s first and lasting impression of the infamous thorn in Vishkar’s side was a fierce capoeirista and a vivacious champion. Not the musical, hockey-punting nuisance his colleagues had painted.

[sparrowswing]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu/Lúcio Correia dos Santos Characters: Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu, Lúcio Correia dos Santos, Lena "Tracer" Oxton, Sanjay Korpal, Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix Additional Tags: Time Travel, Character Study, Angst, Revolutionary Lucio, Fresh out of Helix Akande Summary:

Time travel: a hop, a skip, and an undignified sprawl through time and space by unrefined technology. Akande’s stomach was not a fan. His right shoulder twinged from the brunt of their landing, and his head was throbbing. Grimacing, he tightly palmed the back of his neck.

He strongly suspected that device was not designed to transport more than one.

[robo-cryptid]

53 McHanzo, please!

Sorry, @lodicrous, I didn’t quite get to the #21 (but I did do a Kiss On A Dare over here if you missed it, so I hope that both of these prompts still got covered somehow).

53. Against a wall kiss & 58. Moving Around While Kissing, Stumbling Over Things, Pushing Each Other Back Against The Wall/Onto The Bed

I really need to learn to fill more of these with shorter stuff, but here we are, with like 2000 words more of that superhero AU, this time with Hanzo actually getting to see Jesse’s whole dang face and uhhhh maybe some more of him, because it got pretty spicy. NSFW superheroes-out-of-cape first date (or “date”?) night!

For earlier bits of the superhero AU, here’s Part 1 and Part 2.

All things considered, Hanzo had no reason to be nervous. His biggest secrets were already out in the open here. Mystery Man – Jesse – knew him first by his vigilantism and only second by his name and his face and, now, the address at which he’d taken up his temporary residence. There was no reason at all for his nerves.

It was only the wait, he was sure. He couldn’t reasonably be seen entering his apartment building with Mystery Man in tow, especially if the whole purpose here was to give them some privacy to give him a peek under the mask. And besides, Jesse had wanted something like a date. So he’d escorted Hanzo close enough to the building and disappeared with a promise to return in street clothes and with food.

Hanzo’d showered and finally got to change from his jogging clothes, made himself look both presentable and deliberately casual in jeans and a soft sweater. He looked good, and he knew now that Jesse liked looking. He knew the only real “problem” was anticipation. Yet here he was, standing stiffly in his kitchen debating the merits of sake versus fine wine versus liquor for a man whose face he had still only seen a portion of.

Keep reading

[bellsybuilds]

Snippet // lúcio and the problem with heats (sfw)

I know I have a bajillion updates people are expecting instead of a new story - and I swear I’m working on them all - in the meantime, have this out-of-context piece I’ve had sitting in my drive for almost a year. I don’t know if anything will come of it, so I’ll drop it here for now and see if it takes seed.

///

Lúcio is brave, handsome, almost universally beloved and outgoing; of course he knows how to ask for help if he wants it during his heat.

Right?

He’s definitely not crippled by self doubt in his most vulnerable time. He would not endanger his own health by staying silent.

He does not push a hand against the physical ache in his chest because his symptoms build so long unattended that desire peaks into withdrawal.

He is definitely not training his body to survive without a partner. He is not accidentally conditioning his body to fear his heats for the uncompromising stress it will endure over the course of long, aching days without relief.

Of course not.

When the first symptoms start to manifest and Lúcio wakes, limbs heavy, mind clouding with a warm fever, he checks the calendar and his heart sinks.

His heat isn’t supposed to start for another three days. It’s coming earlier and earlier, and every time it lasts longer.

Doctor Zeigler flashes through his mind, but Lúcio pushes her warnings aside and drags himself from bed, swaying and unsteady as he goes in search for his medication. He washes the pills down with a tall glass of water and spies his phone recharging on the beside table when he returns to the warm tangle of his bedsheets.

If Lúcio is lucky, the meds will kick in and he won’t even notice his body is going through anything over the next week. But Doctor Zeigler has been adjusting his prescription going on a year now, without luck, and Lúcio doesn’t hold out hope today will bare his luck.

He clears his calendar, sending out general apologies and notice that he’ll be out of touch for the better part of a week.

A cold, he lies. It came on fast - probably caught it during his latest visit to the kids in the neighborhood - but he’ll be fine. He’s got everything he needs at home. He’ll see everyone after it passes.

This is the message he broadcasts, throat tightening even as he hits send, a flurry of colorful and smiling emojis bookending the point.

I’m okay - better than okay.

I don’t need help.

And I’m going to be okay at the end of this.

Maybe one day Lúcio will stare down the barrel of his heat without his heart quickening, palms sweating with the same anxiety betraying the fear he pushes so far down he sometimes forgets he’s afraid at all.

Groaning with the ache already gathering low in his back, Lúcio tucks himself back into the thick duvet of his nest and shudders out a weary sigh.

There’s food and drink in the fridge and cupboards, supplies he should relocate so won’t have to stagger far in the next few days.

He just needs to rest a little more. His head is so heavy and his joints hurt. He’ll get them later.

He passes out as soon as his head meets the pillow.

[robo-cryptid]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: ½ Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Lúcio Correia dos Santos/Genji Shimada Characters: Hanzo Shimada, Jesse McCree, Genji Shimada, Lena “Tracer” Oxton, Fareeha “Pharah” Amari, Lúcio Correia dos Santos Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Animal Transformation, Armadillo Shaming, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Crack, Witches, Jesse McCree is the Armadillo Summary:

When shelter worker Hanzo takes in a rescued armadillo, he doesn’t expect it to be quite so much trouble. Or for it to take such a shine to him. Or for it to maybe, possibly, be more than an ordinary armadillo.

[sparrowswing]

Doomcio Week - 5 Acts List

@doomcioweek

Demihumans - orcs, demons, incubi/succubi, merfolk, fairies (esp with moth wings), dragon shifters, vampires, aliens… humanoid monsters hooking up with humans or other (preferably different) humanoid monsters

Fuck or Die - sex pollen, mating rituals, spellcasting gone awry, incubus/succubus, unexpected side effects of Moira’s experimentation, aphrodisiacs

Trapped or stranded together - on another world; on a desert island; in a cave-in; in a cabin during a snowstorm; in an elevator

Public sex - chance of being caught, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dancing that gets out of hand, sneaking into a closet/bathroom, performing at a sex club

Conflicts and challenges - war and combat; sieges; Die Hard scenarios; gladiatorial games; wrestling and sparring; duels of honor; bets and sports competitions; romantic rivalries; seduction viewed as a challenge; misunderstandings and fights; personality clashes; cultural differences; philosophical disagreements

[its-a-good-day-to-bi-hard]

Coflicts and challenges: Gladitorial Combat

@doomcioweek @sparrowswing

Established relationship + In the future because I’m not writing an explanation for this shit. You can’t make me.

I breathe deeply into my stretch, twisting my torso to loosen the muscles. I have to be prepared for tonight’s fight. It won’t be a battle to the death, not this time, but if i don’t win again then next fight may be. I may be doomed regardless of how I fight, I’ve heard rumours about my opponent. He doesn’t often use weapons, just his fists. I’ll have to rely on my agility and boosters. I don’t know what weapon I’ll use, probably something small for up close combat. I’m good at shooting for gaps and my opponent is supposed to be huge. It’s hard to cover that much area and move so much mass quickly, so i should have speed on my side. I move into downward dog. I can’t stretch my legs too much or my speed will be affected, but this pose should help.

I wonder what akande would think of my situation, the demand I abandon my  philosophy and the many scars earned in battles long past. It’s possible he’s not even alive anymore. I don’t know how I would respond if he was alive, it’s hard to believe he would just be okay abandoning me here on this planet. Maybe he forgot. Is it unreasonable to ask your fiance to storm his way onto a far off planet to free you? I guess it might be. I have no hope for the overwatch team. They made it clear when I signed up that if I got myself into a situation where my rescue would endanger many other team members then they would leave me right were I was.

“Lucio! You’re up in ten!” A guard Bangs his keys against the bars and I jump. The bars are unlocked and I walk over to the prep area. I can hear the screams and stomps of the crowd in the arena above me, hoards of people calling for blood to be spilt. The gates open a tiny bit to let in the last competidor, apparently the looser judging by the taunts thrown at them from the closer seats as they stumble back inside. They look pretty dizzy on their feet but not all that worse for the wear. The announcer yells over the noise of the arena.

“We’ve got a new competitor today! They’ve earned quite the reputation in the past week! The self-proclaimed master of the only habitable planet in the inner rings of the oort cloud! He didn’t hesitate to beat his last opponent to the brink of death! Folks, I give you Mr. Fist!” The crowd cheers as the announcer pauses. There’s a whirring and I can only assume they’ve let him free. Poor guy, I don’t know what he first said when he got here to get stuck with that dumbass name.

I can feel my heart beating in my chest. I know i’ll be fine, I won’t die, and I can handle most things thrown at me, but I can’t seem to shake off that nervousness whenever they start to announce me. The crowd quiets and the announcer’s voice crackles over the stereo system once again. “Our next competitor hardly needs an introduction. Your favourite fighter, topping the charts as the favourite of the people! Ladies and gentlemen I give you Synth!” The crowd erupts in applause and the gates swing open. A couple people low down in the stands throw flowers and coins down at me. I put on my little act that made me a favorite in the first place. I scoop up a few flowers and smile up in the general direction they flew from before tucking them into the bun at the back of my head. The crowd loves it, I know I’ve gotten some new nicknames from it. I think my favorite has been “The flower knight,” that or “The giant slayer.” I guess I’ve been able to use my performing skills to make the best of a bad situation. People love to see the little guy take out the person they believe to be unbeatable.

I finally turn my attention to the center of the field. For such a big guy it takes me a surprising amount of time for me to spot my opponent standing solemnly in the shadow of the arena, and when I spot them I see them staring at me, a familiar look in their eyes…. Wait….

The noise of the arena muffles to a dull scream, quiet but overwhelming and pounding in my ears. A bell sounds and he starts walking towards me. I can’t fight him, I won’t. I shake my head and raise my hands, stepping back. Everything is happening so slowly, like the world is coated in molasses.

“I don’t want to fight you.” I don’t think I’ve ever said those words to him but they ring true. Not when i’m seeing him for the first time in so long. His brows furrow slowly, and then he is charging quickly. The crowd is loud again as he hurls me through the air. People are booing. All the air leaves my lungs when I hit the ground and he is on me, pinning me with a single hand. He looks vicious as always when he leans down close to me.

“You will fight, because I know you can. I know how we can leave, but you have to fight and we have to leave here broken.” Akande looks at me seriously.

“Okay,” I finally manage to suck in some air and I nod before drawing my legs up and kicking akande off me. Akande actually smiles as he lunges, but I’ve fought him enough to know how to handle him. I duck under his arm and go for a sweep. He bases out and I manage to get my hooks in before hoisting myself up his back and trying to get a chokehold.

“I can’t believe in all your years of martial arts you never took brazilian jiu jitsu.” I taunt. He resists my hold by tucking his chin but I switch to a jaw lock and then I have him. He’s forcing my elbow up and I tighten my grip. He tries to hit me but I have my had tucked between his shoulder blades and there’s nothing he can hit.

He gives up and falls backwards, slamming me onto my back with all his weight on top of me. My grip falters for a moment and he spins around. I just barely lock my legs around him before he manages to scramble up, trapping him rather weakly in my guard.

“Judo is better,” He taunts back. He tips forward with my weight and I manage to get my arms up just fast enough to block his punch, it hurts sure, but thank fuck he isn’t wearing his gauntlet.

“Screw you man” I have him pinned tightly to me but he’s strong and alternating between landing teeth-rattling hits and trying to peel my legs off him. We struggle through a couple more guards, he almost gets an armbar on me. He’s big, there isn’t much room for him to maneuver. I, however have all the room I need plus my speed. I manage to get a half guard on him and he starts landing hits again. My arms are screaming in pain from taking the brunt of his punches. I stick it out for two more strikes that knock the breathe from my lungs before I slide my legs up on his torso and try to get a more effective guard. He leans forward to block me, sticking an arm out for balance. I unlock my legs and swing them up fast as lightning around his neck and arm before latching my legs tightly and squeezing. He tries to fight it, he actually manages to stand up with me latched so tightly to him, but he made the mistake of getting into a ground fight with me. I get a few punches in while he’s struggling to pry my legs off and passing out fast. He may be losing but I know for a fact he left some bruises and I don’t plan on being the only one with some.

“Break something.” Akande chokes out. I loosen up in confusion.

“What?” I’m panting from the fight. He drops back to the ground.

“Break something. Need- the infirmary to work.” He manages to get more out now that I’ve loosened up. It doesn’t last long, I give a small nod before putting the rest of my strength into the death-grip of my legs and aiming a punch at his nose. There’s a crunch and a quick spurt of blood. He struggles for a few moments more and then he’s out. I make sure he’s totally limp.

The crowd is screaming in applause, my arms drop to my sides and I try and push myself out from under Akande’s weight. The bell sounds and two attendants grab me by my shoulders and drag me the rest of the way, hoisting me up. Something drips down my face and into my eye. I feel dizzy when they lift me up and the pain in my arm swells with the noise of the crowd. I rub my face on my upper arm and blood comes off. I think im bleeding. They place a medal around my neck and the attendants help me walk my way back into the bowels of the stadium. A quick glance back reveals four attendants struggling to lift up Akande. He’s starting to come to though, so that’s good.

“Let’s get you to the infirmary.” The attendant urges me forward and once we’re in the infirmary I fall down into the first bed open. A flock of nurses start cleaning my wounds with various stinging liquids and wrapping them in bandages.

A nurse digs a thumb into my arm and I yelp at the sharp pain. “Damn, I think you might have fractured something. Let’s get a scan.” The nurse drags me up and into the x-ray room. Two scans later and they’re putting a splint on my left arm. “Stay here for a while.” The nurse moves on and I lay back in the bed. The four attendants who were trying to carry Akande earlier finally make it to the infirmary with the help of two additional assistants. His eyes are closed and his body is limp, which is strange since I saw him moving after the fight. He’s acting for something, I know it.

I lay back and close my eyes, listening the the nurses and attendants struggling to revive Akande, treating cuts and bruises and waving smelling salts in his face. I guess they eventually gave up because the bed beside me falls quiet. I turn to his bed and open my eyes.

“Akande, you up? You’re acting right?” I whisper to akande’s restful form. He lolls his head to the side and opens his eyes a sliver.

“I’m fine.” He keeps his voice so quiet I can barely hear it.

“So you have a plan right?” I lean up on my arms and look around the room slowly in a relaxed fashion. I don’t know why the infirmary is necessary for an escape, but I trust Akande.

“Sombra will be shutting down the entire facility in a few moments, including anything dealing with security. The infirmary has an emergency door used to transfer patients to a full-scale hospital should any complications arise. That door will be completely defenseless once everything shuts down and it leads right outside. I have a shuttle cloaked not far outside and sombra is ready at the wheel for a quick getaway. We can waltze right out of here.” Akande looks at me and reaches out a hand. I take it and look back up at the ceiling. I miss that kind of touch. Not the touch of an opponent or a commander, this is something i’ve gone too long without.

“Thanks for coming for me.” I feel so much relife swell in my chest, I didn’t think anyone would come to help. The last escape attempt I made ended with some pretty brutal scars and a near death experience.

“I’m sorry it took so long. I lost word of you for so long, I thought you were on a mission. Too long passed and Overwatch wouldn’t tell me anything. Sombra had to help me track you down. I thought you were dead….” There’s a short fluctuation in his voice, so quick I almost think I imagine it and then he falls silent. He squeezes my hand a bit more than necessary and he runs his thumb along the back of my hand.

“I’m sorry.” I sigh and squeeze back.

“It’s not your fault.” I feel eyes on me and know akande has turned to look at me. It won’t take long to spot the new scars. “I know it’s been hell on you, it’s their fault.”

“I’ve had to change.” My grip loosens.

“I know.” He squeezes my hand tighter.

“They took the ring.” A glance reveals Akande isn’t wearing his either.

“We’ll buy you a new one.” There’s a pause and I feel Akande move. “Look at me.” Its phrased like a command but I know its a plea. I oblige. His brows are furrowed. “We’re going to fix this.” He pulls me up and towards him and then we’re kissing. It feels like forever but it only lasts a moment. When I open my eyes the lights are out.

“I guess let’s move.” I sit up in my bed and Akande shifts himself up before pointing at one of the walls.

“There’s a switch.” Akande moves to the wall, tapping around before he pulls at a seam in the wall and a compartment opens. He pulls it and a part of the wall falls away.

“Wow.” I touch the edge where the wall once connected.

“I know, clever design. I had Sombra copy it, I think i’ll be installing a panic room in the house.” Akande grabs my forearm and pulls me into the dark passageway.

“You know the way through here? It doesn’t split off does it?” I run a hand along the side of the wall to keep myself oriented in the dark.

“Yeah, its a straight shot. It’s easier to navigate when the lights are on though.” Akande wraps an arm around my waist almost protectively. He stops and starts to tap along the wall once again like he did to open the first door. He pries open the panel and flips the switch.

“Ah fuck.” I raise my arms to cover my eyes. The sudden daylight is blinding.

“We have to move.” Akande pulls me along with him. We climb through some bushes and trees before we’re in an open meadow. We stand for a moment before the ship drops its cloaking mechanism and the runway drops down. The second we climb in the floor shakes and the ship takes off. Looking out the window I smile as the trash heap of a planet shrinks and disappears.

“Good riddance.” I turn to Akande and am immediately scooped up in a hug. I laugh and hug him back. “You miss me?”

“Yes.”

“I missed you too.” I lean my head on his shoulder and smile. It feels good to be back.

[imaginedoomcio]

For my friend @bellsyblue

Prompt: Demi or Inhumans, either or both (Alien/Cyborg Au), Seeing unexpected aspects of characters.

It’s going to be multichapter cause I can’t write sci-fi without making it long 😂

[ayu-dev-deactivated20190718]

My Doomcio Week Wishlist:

So doomcio week is here. And you bet your ass I’m going to participate (Obon starts in 2 days and I have free time SOOOO).

My wishlist includes the following:

◎Overly pampering sugar daddy

◎Caught in the act

◎What happens in the training room stays there

◎Don’t get caught

◎Bodyworshipping

[bellsybuilds]

I considered ending this before the outbreak of any porn but then I thought, of everyone, you would be the most Disappointed ™.

Reverse warrior (nsfw)

Overly pampering sugar daddy, What happens in the training room stays there, Don’t get caught, Bodyworshipping

Akande lived an indulgent life, and why not? He had wealth to spare. His family had given back to their community in Numbani, rebuilding bodies with prosthetics as the engineers rebuilt their city. But Akande had never been the one handing over cheques or fitting someone with the augmentations that would change their life.

He wished someone had told him earlier how good it felt to leave the boardroom and be that person.

But it was probably for the best. If Akande Ogundimu had discovered the addictive thrill that coursed through him when he gave back, when he did something kind without being asked, he might have ended up somewhere very different.

Or maybe not.

He didn’t know who he would be if he wasn’t a martial artist and a businessman. If his name didn’t strike fear and awe. It had opened doors in his life. Silenced many conflicts. Brought him to his present reality: halfway across the world in the training room of a community centre he had built with his own money, by his own choice.

It wasn’t even the most extravagant gift he had ever made.

On his back at the bench press, he heard the heavy door swing wide and then shut. A familiar voice sighed deeply with satisfaction.

“I love that new gym smell,” Lúcio breathed, the warmth in his voice making Akande smile and his chest lighten.

Even the bar felt lighter as he pushed it straight and back to settle on its rest above him.

Quiet footsteps crossed the floor and then Rio’s hero was smiling down at him – beaming – as he nudged his thigh against Akande’s, reaching forward to run a finger along the rings of weights on the bar. He hummed appreciatively.

“You’re pushing yourself today.” His dark eyes narrowed on Akande with mischief. “Making up for lost time?”

Akande reached for one of Lúcio’s thighs, delighting in the medic’s quiet laugh when he squeezed. “And who could I blame for that?”

Lúcio shrugged, denying nothing. His smile softened and he leaned his weight against Akande’s side. “I didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to.”

That much was true. Lúcio had a way of inspiring the unexpected. He had his own way of conquering.

Lúcio continued in Akande’s resigned silence. “I don’t think anyone could… and this place is… “ he glanced up and around them at the state of the art facility, humbled by the designs of Lúcio’s own favela on every wall, “Perfect. It’s a lot.” His voice was quiet and thoughtful, but in the empty training room at four in the morning, Akande heard him.

Lúcio’s hand stroked low on his ribs, dragging heavy from his side to his core where the grey shirt darkened with sweat. Akande tried to play down the sharp inhale when Lúcio’s fingers traced the lines of his muscles through his shirt, but when he swallowed (nervously? Why was he nervous?) it was so loud that Lúcio had to hear.

“It was my pleasure,” Akande said, taking the hand on his chest and running his thumb in circles over Lúcio’s knuckles.

Lúcio was always so warm; a healer’s hands. Careful and firm, but strong when they needed to be. He had been surprised by Lúcio’s strength more than once.

Lúcio’s gaze lingered on his face, expression soft, studying him. “You take such good care of me.”

Akande’s chest felt tight under the attention and his heartbeat drummed in his ears. “You need no one taking care of you.”

“I know. But you do anyway,” Lúcio reminded Akande what got him into trouble in the first place: that brilliant, uninhibited smile of gratitude. Before Lúcio, he had never known that a smile could make him feel so powerful.

He used to have so much pride before he met Lúcio.

Heat stirring low, Akande tugged him down. “Come here.”

This part was easy, when Lúcio melted against him like butter, humming low and pleased in his chest as Akande kissed his mouth open with a hand in Lúcio’s dreadlocks and another around his waist.

“Mmmm,” Lúcio breathed as strong hands pushed down his back and low on his flank, taking firm grip of a cheek in each hand, palming wide, pulling him in. He whimpered at the possessive kisses Akande nibbled and suckled down his neck. A hand pressed between their chests. “Wait.”

Lúcio was trying to pull back, but Akande rose to  follow him and rolled his hips. He grunted in pleasure at the evidence of Lúcio’s arousal pressing against his own erection.

“Wait,” Lúcio panted, but his protest was much weaker when Akande actually stopped, hands resting on those thick, muscled thighs.

Akande drew back to meet his eyes. “What?”

Lúcio swallowed, licking his lips. They were wet and flushed. “I didn’t lock the doors.”

Akande glanced back at the light double doors at the room’s end and the shadow of the dark entryway beyond. “No one else has access before 6am.”

Lúcio blinked at him. “Really?”

“You didn’t want anyone coming in between ten and six. You said it wasn’t safe. Not yet.”

Lúcio’s face pinched in adorable confusion. “I did?”

Akande pushed one of the dreadlocks back from his face. “You did.”

He deflated with relief. “What would I do without you?” Lúcio beamed and nuzzled into the damp heat of Akande’s chest. “You’re so much cheaper than an assistant.”

“You get me for free,” Akande huffed at the warm hands sliding up beneath his shirt, and arched slightly to help.

“Mmm free,” Lúcio murmured, pulling back far enough to push the shirt up under Akande’s shoulders. His touch was greedy, taking in the sight beneath him and Akande smirked at the worship in his eyes. Lúcio leaned in. Akande breathed slow and deep at the wet mouth that closed around his nipple, lavishing it in a slow, thorough kiss. “‘S my favorite price.”

Akande’s chest trembled with silent laughter as Lúcio moved down his torso, hands exploring as his mouth mapped terrain he had learned by heart.

Lúcio wasn’t poor, but growing up in poverty had made him a cheap bastard in his adulthood, haggling at every opportunity and unwilling to spend unless absolutely necessary. Unless it was on the youth of his neighbourhood.

Akande had expected more resistance when he first started spending money on Lúcio that the man refused to spend on himself. Lúcio’s surprise had been completely charming.

“Always taking care of me,” Lúcio murmured, breathy, mouthing at the lines of Akande’s hipbone above the waistband. His weight rested heavy between Akande’s spread legs. Warm palms stroked up and down his thighs. Akande’s hands were already in Lúcio’s hair.  “Let me take care of you.”

The medic smirked at the instinctive tug on his scalp. His dark eyes glittered and Akande reverently stroked a thumb across his cheekbone, holding his face. He felt the slow smile was answer enough.

///

Only Lúcio could talk him into this.

Lúcio with his bright… wicked grin and damned… smug….

Akande groaned, gripping the bar above as Lúcio sank down, slick svelte and heat closing around him.

Lúcio’s mouth tugged in a smirk, looking back over his shoulder. Completely bare, he watched Akande’s face as he rolled his hips in slow circles, holding tight to Akande’s ankles.

Hips tilted up, knees almost to his shoulders, Akande shuddered and moaned as Lúcio held him open and used him as a seat for his pleasure.

“Nnnnh, look so good like this, baby,” Lúcio praised him, voice strained as he rocked in a slow, thorough rhythm so intimate it was almost excruciating. From his higher angle, pressing Akande down to the bench, it left the larger man with little to no leverage to participate.

Akande’s heart was pounding. He relinquished the bar above to grab the metal legs of its stand instead. Even though Lúcio was splitting himself on Akande’s cock, Akande was the one yielding control. And it was intoxicating. Lúcio didn’t even deign to look at him. Whimpering, he rode Akande into the seat of the bench press, the line of his back one sinuous, rolling wave. He flinched with pleasure when he found the angle he wanted.

Lúcio used his body like he used his bank account, and just as always it felt so good, it didn’t even occur to Akande to be mad.

The dazed smirk thrown back told him the medic was well aware.

“You like being tall for a change?” Akande muttered, holding himself taught when Lúcio reached for him.

“I like seeing you struggle,” Lúcio confessed, and made a fond swipe at his cheek. “Letting me take care of you. Just….” his voice hitched, arching with a shiver, head hanging between his shoulders, and Akande knew the medic was close. “Wanna hear you.”

Because Akande had been trying so hard not to make a sound, to focus on staying still.

He ignored the hand on his chest and braced himself with the grip on the stand. Lúcio started rocking faster against him, the slap of their bodies obscenely loud. Akande let his thighs fall even further open so Lúcio had more room to move atop him.

The rippling clench around him almost took him over.

“Ohhhh, fuck! S-so deep, so–” A hand released one of his ankles, scrabbling back for his torso. “Please, bab– ah! Please. Please let me hear you.”

Even with his considerably larger size and muscle, he barely rocked Lúcio when he tried, the muscles of his torso rolling and rippling to shove his hips. He growled deep in his chest, snarling with the effort to rise. This position was harder than it looked. Thankfully, Lúcio was doing most of the work, breaths loud and deep as he thrust down on him so hard and fast, Akande could barely catch his breath.

He threw his head back, writhing as he listened to Lúcio’s cries climb, coming shorter, more desperate, thinning to breathless whines. Akande knew the moment Lúcio was about to come and that sound at last brought him over. His arms braced taught, the muscles of his stomach jumped and he moaned, hips shoving as he released himself deep. Above him, Lúcio trembled and rocked through his own orgasm, eyes shut, shoulders crowded, panting open-mouthed and shameless.

Beautiful, Akande mused when he pulled out, pushing a hand up Lúcio’s slick back, curling in thick dreadlocks at his nape.

And mine, he decided, lowering his legs with a wince and collecting the warmth of Lúcio that didn’t hesitate to bundle down into his arms. He suppressed a grimace at the wet mess that smeared between them, slick and sticky, but the medic buried his face in Akande’s neck with a happy, purring hum, arms tucked against his sides.

Akande could bear it for a short while.

“Thank you,” Lúcio kissed his clavicle, clumsy with exhaustion, “Thanks for trusting me.”

The older man sucked in a deep breath of the scents in his hair, his skin, their sex. Pressing his cheek to Lúcio’s dreads, he held him close and kept the secret to himself: Lúcio made it easy.

“Tomorrow, could you buy us a plane?”

Akande’s eyes slit open and Lucio squawked at the smack on his butt, even as he laughed and let Akande tangle their legs together, precariously balanced on the bench. Such a delinquent, aggravating–

Lucio tilted up with a knowing smile, planting the softest kiss on his mouth.

–Sexy, manipulative, wonderful–

“You can have a bus.”

The embrace around him tightened and the cheer under his chin was as euphoric as if Akande had agreed to his original request. His chest warm and arms full of happy, squirming medic, he still couldn’t find it in himself to be angry.

[ayu-dev-deactivated20190718]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

For my friendo on the Doomcio server @sparrowswing Prompt: Public Sex With the money he had saved up, he could very well buy his own studio equipment for his music. So that was what he was milking those fans for, he would get what he wanted eventually. But the money was getting better and he was close enough to being able to just work from home.

He decided to try out dating. Because of course he figured he would have someone to share the spoils with… it would make it that much better. He made sure to hide his face in his profile in case anyone recognized him.

Sifting through the replies, his eyes darted to a handsome, dark man. His photo was gorgeous and he would be damned if he didn’t at least shoot the man a message. Biting his lip, he waited for a response.

A message popped up asking for coffee… and that was the best coffee date he could have asked for considering the beautiful man that was asking for it. Of course he would say yes…. he would also research names so he wouldn’t butcher the guy’s name. Akande. Can’t be too hard to say, can it?

Hana practically screamed into the phone about how dangerous that could be… considering if any of his followers found him. “I left my picture out of it, don’t worry about it. If anyone finds me on both, it would be entirely a coincidence.” He argued as she huffed.

“I’m glad you phoned me. You better phone when the date is done… I want to know that you’re not dead somewhere, okay?”

“I’ll be fine. You’ll get a call… but it may not be until much later. This man…. ho boy I will show you pictures later.” He teased as he said his farewells, ending the call as he entered the cafe. Golden eyes met his as the man stood to greet him. ‘Holy fuck he is tall…’ Lucio looked up at him as he went to get his drink.

Once they both sat down, he didn’t know if this was going to be a one night stand, or much more, but he sure hoped something good came of this, nothing could possibly go wrong, right?

“Lucio, was it?” Akande said, taking a sip of what the smaller man assumed to be coffee.

“In the flesh, you’re Akande, right?” He flashed a smile at the man across the table.

“What do you do for fun?” The older of the two asked casually.

“I make electronic dance music, although I want to make more of a career out of it. Right now though? Just a hobby that happens to make me some money. I don’t have time for much else considering the expense to live here.” He complained out loud. The smirk that dared to show itself on the older man’s face made Lucio wonder what was on his mind. “What about you?” He said making direct eye contact.

As he explained the various martial arts he was into, Lucio was more than intrigued by it all, because before moving to the city, he himself was part of a martial arts team and he loved it. Akande’s interests in that kind of thing got the two of them talking for what seemed like hours on the subject. It only took the shop actually closing for them to get a move on.

“If you don’t have anything planned, we could continue this elsewhere…” The Brazilian said as they exited the establishment. Not only was the guy in question extremely gorgeous, but he was into… a lot of the same stuff! He knew there was probably something they’d disagree on… but he’d work out those kinks later.

Right now, Lucio was more than willing to let this guy do whatever he wanted to the man half his size. “Well, you are a DJ, no? Why don’t you show me a night club you frequent.. for gigs or otherwise.”

This comment caught the man’s attention. Trying hard to keep the thoughts and comments at least somewhat appropriate for a reason he had not thought of yet, he grinned. “Sure, do you dance?” That was a trick question… Lucio could almost guess that dancing was going to be the thing they’d be doing the least of. “I mean if you can that’s awesome, but if not, I can show you a few things.” He smiled as Akande smirked.

“You sure know your arts, Lucio.” He chuckled, boy he could do that all day and Lucio would not grow tired of the sound. He bit his lip as he walked them to the club.

“I’d blame my Capoeira for some of that,” He said, deciding to walk beside the man. “It’s walking distance from here, about five minutes.” He did not intend on taking the man clubbing, it was Akande who chose the place… and that place just happened to be extremely convenient for Lucio.

Once they got to the line the bouncer recognized him, as the DJ for pretty much every weekend since he arrived, and let them straight in. Akande full on laughed, once again leaving Lucio speechless, “Star treatment tonight? I didn’t think you owned the place.” He teased. Lucio shrugged it off.

“It’s not everyday you take someone to the place you work on weekends…” He said as they entered the club. “… now come on, you said I should show you a night club I frequent, now let’s do the one thing I have been wanting to do since I got here…” he dragged him into the center of the dance floor.

“But now now…” Lucio looked up at the man and in his confidence driven state, he pulled the man’s face to eye level using his tie. “This place can get a little hot and heavy, most people are moments away from fucking one another. If that is not what you’re into, this might not be the best place to start our first date.” Still holding the tie, he was still caught off guard as those gorgeous lips made full contact with his own, and he was amazing at it, just like the Brazilian man had hoped he would’ve been.

“And, as a DJ, you’ve probably seen your fair share of folks practically fucking on this dance floor, no?” Akande teased, grabbing Lucio’s ass, “Guess the tables will have turned tonight, won’t they.” At the simple thought of the public affair, the shorter man could feel his own cock twitch in anticipation.

They did… kind of half dance to the rhythm, but it only took about two songs before the younger was dragged into a washroom stall, told to keep quiet as both pants hit the bathroom floor. The thrill behind what would happen if they got caught made his dick so hard it hurt, but it didn’t get him nearly as aroused as Akande’s sweet nothings were in his ear as his fingers teased at the rim, definitely lubed. Two wrappers hit the floor, one was lube obviously… and the other was the condom. Well at least this man was prepared, because for how hungry Lucio was… he wasn’t that prepared.

Now he wasn’t expecting the man to be nearly as big, he didn’t have to stare at the crotch of the man’s pants to know he was packing, but to feel the head slowly make it’s way in… reminded him of his biggest toy… but better. Remembering he couldn’t make a damn sound, he covered his mouth as the man behind him was generous enough to let his body adjust to being so full.

“Ready?” As if he needed to be asked, pushing the massive cock deeper inside, Akande exhaled sharply as he pulled out enough so just the head was inside, just to thrust back in, letting the man in front of him feel his cock brutally hit his prostate. A tiny whimper escaped, although muffled, it still sounded much too loud. “Now now… none of that, or I’ll stop.” he said as he quickened his pace.

Lucio’s eyes closed as he just focused on breathing and the incredible sensation inside him. Those strong hands holding his hips, the whispers of things the man would want to do to Lucio in an enclosed bedroom had the Brazilian’s legs tremble, his cock dripping and untouched as he was mercilessly pounded into. He wanted to be touched so badly he damn near tried himself until a hand wrapped around it, lightly stroking it in complete contrast to the quick motions his hips were doing.

“Mmm, this feels so good…” Lucio whispered in between those timed thrusts, his mouth hung open, but not another sound escaped… the rush of getting caught was enough to keep him going without moaning. Feeling his own orgasm quickly hit him, Akande nipped at his ear.

“Someone had been using toys recently, haven’t they?” He teased, holding Lucio in place as his whole body was coming down from it, still shaking.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, big boy…” He huffed, noticing his legs were practically jello underneath him now. Turning around, he pulled up his pants and pulled Akande in for another kiss, holding himself up at the same time. “Fuck you feel good…” he whispered, lust pouring from his features.

“What’s on your mind, Akande?” A slight smirk was seen, the same one as earlier in the cafe and now the DJ might be a bit more… curious as to what he was planning.

“Shall I take you home?” Lucio’s grin widened at the gesture.

“You certainly can. You can cum inside if you wish as well…” the pun was totally intended, and it took the taller man until they were in a cab to realize it.

“We’ll see what happens…”

[sparrowswing]

This fic is a drink - not of water, but something sweet and sinful and decadent - in a desert, and I am thirsty. 💚

[phrenotobe]

*slaps google drive* this bad boy can hold so many half-finished fics in it

[elainapoststhings]

OP didn’t have to come for my scalp like that

[sparrowswing]

Doomcio Week - 5 Acts List

@doomcioweek

Demihumans - orcs, demons, incubi/succubi, merfolk, fairies (esp with moth wings), dragon shifters, vampires, aliens... humanoid monsters hooking up with humans or other (preferably different) humanoid monsters

Fuck or Die - sex pollen, mating rituals, spellcasting gone awry, incubus/succubus, unexpected side effects of Moira's experimentation, aphrodisiacs

Trapped or stranded together - on another world; on a desert island; in a cave-in; in a cabin during a snowstorm; in an elevator

Public sex - chance of being caught, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dancing that gets out of hand, sneaking into a closet/bathroom, performing at a sex club

Conflicts and challenges - war and combat; sieges; Die Hard scenarios; gladiatorial games; wrestling and sparring; duels of honor; bets and sports competitions; romantic rivalries; seduction viewed as a challenge; misunderstandings and fights; personality clashes; cultural differences; philosophical disagreements