somewhatclear

“And he keeps talking,” Jesse said, as if to himself. “How do I turn it off?” He touched around the helmet, looking for a clasp or something like that. He’d seen Genji around the base without it, so he knew that it came off, but how?
 

Genji sat up a little straighter and just did it himself, a smirk on his lips. “You can’t. You will have to find another way to shut me up.” Under the helmet, his hair was dyed a dark green, darker roots showing all over, but for a thin, long strip on the side of his head where the bit of natural hair seemed to be a silvery white.

“I have a couple of ideas. Let’s hope this one works.” He leaned in slowly, letting him the time to pull away or to reject him if he so wished, but Genji was licking his lips and his metallic fingertips were grasping at the edge of the mask that he still kept in his lap. So Jesse kissed him, chaste at first, but more deeply when Genji opened up for him. He revelled in the low groan emerging from his synthetic throat when he licked in his mouth.

Okay, that part was easy. They had been kissing in a supplies closet earlier, after all, before Jesse insisted they moved it to this room.

He pulled away, and let his eyes wander down Genji’s smooth, mostly metallic body, and the line of his shoulders and his neck, more vulnerable without his usual more bulky armored plates. The slight, rhythmic way his chest moved up and down in time with his soft panting. The dark interlocking panels on his sides. His smooth crotch.

Yeah, he really didn’t know where he was supposed to go from there.

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing: Gabriel Reyes & Genji Shimada

Warning: Blackwatch era, implied body horror, depression & angst, suicidal thoughts

Notes: my good friend @sidhedcv asked for more Blackwatch Reyes/Genji content in the world and I delivered, lol. She also paid the first 300 words of it, so even more kudos! ♥ 900 words on the house, because I love her to bits and she and her significant other are the best and I’m grateful to have them in my life ♥

Summary: When Gabriel promised Genji - restless after eight weeks of surgery, upgrades and rehabilitation - to send him on a mission if he could beat him at hand to hand combat, he’d underestimated the ninja’s desperation to get out of that hospital wing. Even though he wins the fight, Gabriel realizes that he’s lost somewhere else. He should’ve known that Genji was going to get the wrong message from the arrangement.

Excerpt:

“It’s really funny, if you think about it,” he kept talking as if he hadn’t been interrupted. A glossy sheen of tears was starting to wet his eyes. “Before- before. I planned to run, because I didn’t want to die. And now I spend all my waking hours wishing I was dead.”

More than once, Gabriel had asked himself if he had been cruel, when he told Angela to do whatever it was in her power to make him survive; but then he remembered the kid’s eyes when Gabriel’s team got to him after his brother maimed him, and the way he stubbornly clung to life as half of his body succumbed to organ failure, and - only a moment before - the fire in his eyes as he forced his new, unfamiliar artificial muscles to cooperate into landing a hit on him.

He’d wanted to see that again.

{read on AO3}

Commissioned by @the-jonesy, here’s a piece about their character’s backstory, Zekee! Thanks again for your support ♥

* Warning: contains explicit gore

The dust of the Arena mixes with blood, turning into a mass of gorey mud under the gladiators’ feet. Nobody pays attention to it, but Zekee remembers.

She doesn’t remember killing Korr’s murderer, not really.

She does remember the magic binding her limbs against her will, guts knotting in panic and pain and fear as the realization of what was going to happen crystallized in her mind. She remembers the sound of her own blood rushing into her ears loud like a scream- or maybe she was screaming, growling and snarling at the top of her lungs.

(was Korr screaming as she died, while Zekee helplessly struggled, powerless against invisible restrains?)

She remembers a night happened half a lifetime ago, a tussling becoming ferocious passion, laughter dissolving in the cold air. Caresses leaving bruises, Korr’s teeth tearing at the flesh of her ear like a brand, white-hot, and a fleeting emotion.

(we could do this forever, I would be okay with that)

She remembers Korr’s corpse laying on the ground, an empty shell made of dust, the cheers of the audience muffled in the distance like leaves rustling in the breeze. Much closer, her murderer’s relieved chuckle, the reek of his unearned sweat.

Rage.

White-hot like the scar in her ear, her body slams into his, flattening him on the ground. She sees the fear in his eyes, and feels nothing. Her hands grip his throat; the man opens his mouth to scream, and she can’t stand it.

(you don’t get to have a mouth to scream with)

His skull hits the ground with a thud when she pushes him down, and his jaw breaks with a sickening snap when she pulls at it. Blood gushes, gurgles in the man’s throat, he still screams. He screams, unhinged mouth bobbing for a second like a broken puppet’s, and Zekee has to claw at the ruined insides of his throat to shut him up. His tongue gets discarded, his windpipe crushed.

Silence, at last.

*
Do you want me to write something for you? Buy me a coffee ♥

Fandom: Kings NBC
Pairing: David & Jack, Jack/OMC
Warning: PTSD, internalized homophobia, fix-it
Wordcount: 14.500
Notes: I started this fic in 2015 because I wanted to give Jack closure. Then things happened, and writing, as many time before, became an outlet for the emotions that those things made me feel. And now, it’s over.

Summary: The journey of Jack Benjamin through recovery and self-acceptance, up until the day of David’s coronation, and beyond.
Excerpt:

The crown looked amazing on David’s head. It truly looked like it had been made for him, as he looked like he had been made to stand before them all with that proud line in his back and his shoulders, a shy and nervous, almost self-deprecating smile on his lips.

He looked human. He looked like a king.

Jack was aware of the fact that the smile had slipped from his own face, and he was cold, but he couldn’t move, he couldn’t stop staring. With some luck nobody would’ve noticed, since everybody was still cheering. He couldn’t stop thinking that his father had never looked like that, but in a few old photos. He couldn’t help but think that he wouldn’t have looked like that either.

He briefly saw himself standing on the steps with a black crown on his brow, his face and fingers made of melting wax, a dark suit made of dead flies. Looking more like a corpse than a man, a hollow shell in the golden light. A deep pain in his chest, the smell of deceive.

{read on AO3}

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defenders
Characters: Keith/Lance
Wordcount: 1910
Notes: written for @klangst-week Day #2: Mistake. It’s set in the same continuity as this drabble!
Summary: Lance doesn’t mind kissing Keith to satisfy his curiosity, but he wants to know if that’s all that it is. The problem is that Keith isn’t very good with words.

Claim: Lance [Voltron Legendary Defender] (diecielode @ livejournal)

#01 Acquamarina | Aquamarine	tumblr	AO3
#02 Bolle | Bubbles	tumblr	AO3
#03 Denim | Denim	tumblr	AO3
#04 Mare | Sea	tumblr	AO3
#05 Notte | Night	tumblr	AO3
#06 Occhi | Eyes	tumblr	AO3
#07 Petrolio | Petroleum	tumblr	AO3
#08 Pianeta | Planet	tumblr	AO3
#09 Sangue | Blood	tumblr	AO3
#10 Zaffiro | Sapphire	tumblr	AO3

Claim: Lance [Voltron Legendary Defender] (diecielode @ livejournal)

#01 Alieno | Alien	tumblr	AO3
#02 Astronave | Spaceship	tumblr	AO3
#03 Clone	tumblr	AO3
#04 Computer	tumblr	AO3
#05 Esperimento | Experiment	tumblr	AO3
#06 Mistero | Mystery	tumblr	AO3
#07 Pianeta | Planet	tumblr	AO3
#08 Quarantadue | Forty-two	tumblr	AO3
#09 Spazio | Space	tumblr	A03
#10 Tecnologia | Technology	tumblr	AO3

Fandom: Yuri on Ice
Pairing or characters: Yuuri/Viktor
Rating: NSFW
Warning: public sex, fingering, no negotiation of kink
Wordcount: 3072
Notes: partecipa alla terza settimana del COWT7 di maridichallenge per il prompt M1 Le cose non vanno mai come credi
Summary: Movie night sounds like the perfect occasion to snuggle on the couch, while trashtalking a movie with friends. But Yuuri is bored, and gets another idea entirely.

( Chris' annual sleepover on the Alps usually wasn't Viktor's idea of fun. )

Fandom: Yuri on ice
Pairing or characters: Yurij Pliseckij & Otabek Altin
Rating: SAFE
Warning: crack, dysfunctional family
Wordcount: 3159
Notes: partecipa fallendo alla maritombola di maridichallenge per il prompt [1] Santa hat, e per la seconda settimana del COWT7 per il prompt M1 VIAGGIO
Summary: In hindsight, it was probably the stupidest thing he had ever done in his life. He could’ve been run over by a car. He could’ve been picked up by a serial killer, or some pervert, or even by a regular, well meaning stranger, who just happened to be a lousy driver. It was way too easy to get in an accident, these days.

Yurij hitch-hikes to Santa's house to prove his mom a point, and he meets an interesting stranger on the road.

( When Yurij had decided to hitch-hike the whole way to Velikij Ustyug, he hadn’t actually think it through. )

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender
Pairing or characters: Keith & Lance, Keith & Shiro
Rating: SAFE
Warning: Character Death, blood & injury
Wordcount: 3176
Notes: Partecipa al COW-T7 di maridichallenge. Prima settimana, M1: Paura
Summary: Lance was too important to die.

Because Lance was selfless and bright and funny and lively, and the team was going to miss him.

Keith's solution, and Keith's regret.

( Lance was too important to die. )

Ancora non so se riuscirò a scrivere qualcosa, considerato che mancano nove giorni alla fine dell'evento, ma almeno la cartellina con il brainstorming l'ho fatta.

Title: It Won't Go Away
Fandom: Hannibal
Pairing: Hannibal/Will
Rating: NSFW
Warning: sexual content, kink negotiation, breathplay
Wordcount: 3248
Note: A huge thank you to mikamikarin, who read the first snippet and waited for the rest of the story 14 months, Kaesaria, who is basically this story's saviour, and to all the other amazing people who patiently listened to my whining and whom I forced to read the thing because I was anxious as hell.
Summary: Will had moved through life like a shard of glass in a jar of sand, cutting the hands of those who poured it out, trying to get a closer look. People never got through to him, and the ghosts in his head screeched, leaving colors against his eyelids like stained glass. Echoes of lives that didn’t exist anymore or never existed, consumed by a kind of hunger that could never be satisfied. Killers and victims, hunters and prey. He was both and neither, but he’d never known that he was thirsty.
Will is haunted by guilt and doubt. Hannibal helps through him introducing him to a different coping method.

("What are you looking at?")

Title: Or so they (didn't) tell me
Fandom: The Headshot (original)
Pairing: Axell Toft/Il'ya Kosmov/Evelyn Hutchcraft
Rating: NSFW
Warning: alcohol abuse, dubious consent, dirty talking, unreliable narrator
Wordcount: 2127
Note: partecipa alla settimana 6 del #COWT6 di maridichallenge per l'esame di fine anno: Aimatopolis (Prompt: reati in materia di stupefacenti)
Summary: But what happened in Oslo?

( 'I have no idea what you're saying, love,' Axell laughed softly, sipping at his drink. )

Title: Sniper's Shadow
Fandom: Original
Pairing: none
Rating: safe
Warning: non-binary character, origin story
Wordcount: 4042
Note: partecipa alla settimana #2 del COWT6 di maridichallenge per la M1: Bullet with Butterfly Wings
Summary: Un assassino sconosciuto porta a termine gli incarichi di Bezoar e Scabbard prima che possano metterci le mani, facendo perdere loro un sacco di quattrini. Mettono così in moto un piano per fermare il misterioso avversario.

( L'isola fluttuava troppo in alto perché il parco globale fosse visibile da lassù, con il tempo di merda che faceva ultimamente, ma a Bezoar piaceva immaginare di poter vedere l'enorme distesa di verde che ricopriva tutto il pianeta. )

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Title: Floor is lava
Fandom: Hannibal
Pairing: implied Hannibal/Will
Rating: safe
Warning: kid fic
Wordcount: 447
Note: n/a
Summary:

Hannibal was skimming through one of his patients' files, when he got to his study door and pushed it open.

"Careful, Doctor Lecter! The floor is lava!" a shrill voice stopped him, before he could move a step in the room.

(fake cut)

Title: You know what you're here for
Fandom: Suits
Pairing: Jessica Pearson/Harvey Specter
Rating: NSFW
Warning: semipublic sex, Dom/sub undertones, pegging, anal fingering, rough sex, cunnilingus, gags, aftercare, PWP
Wordcount: 1718
Note: Fill per il Fallo Felice Fest di maridichallenge
Summary:
Harvey stood in front of her, holding his ground. Barely. He had been nervous since she had whispered him to meet her in the women's bathroom on that floor, her tone unmistakable.

"I thought you said that you weren't going to bring this at the office," Harvey told her while she approached, trying his best to keep up his aloof persona, and not give in to the temptation to take a step back.

"This isn't the office, in fact," Jessica replied with a smile. "Take that off"

(fake cut)

Title: Domestic Life
Fandom: Hannibal
Pairing: implied Hannibal/Will
Rating: safe
Warning: slice of life, post s3
Wordcount: 764
Note: Fill per la Pasticceria del Buonumore di maridichallenge
Summary:

Prima che Hannibal uscisse per fare la spesa, le piastrelle dell'atrio erano state di un bel grigio chiaro; adesso erano artisticamente decorate da un disgustoso arabesco di orme umane e canine di fango, terra e sporcizia.

(fake cut)

Title: Wonderland conquered
Fandom: The Headshot (originale)
Pairing: unrequired Gabriel H. March/Maddalena Hattrick
Rating: SAFE
Warning: riferimenti a violenza e omicidi
Wordcount: 842
Note: Partecipa alla M1 "Fiori" della quarta settimana del COW-T5 di maridichallenge
Summary: Fosse stata una sera qualunque, Maddalena avrebbe scambiato il dono per uno dei suoi soliti omaggi, piccoli gesti galanti per vincere la sua attenzione, come March era solito fare; quella sera però, pensò Maddalena annusando le rose, quei fiori avevano il profumo stesso della vittoria.
( La sera dell'omicidio di mister White, Maddalena Hattrick ricevette un grosso mazzo di rose.  )