#widow? she's rich and talon too

[wildissylupus]

What cooking lore have you uncovered this time 👀 I wanna know what you found to change your mind abt some of them (I also just love your cooking hc's so much lol)

First List;

Updated List;

Designated Cooks -

Nothing really changed for Cassidy and Zenyatta except for the fact that I found that Zenyatta was confirmed to know how to cook. As for Mei and Jack, in both of their segments of the cook book it actively says that Mei and Jack cooked the recipes often so I put them in S tier. As for the removal of Ana, Sojourn and Brig, with Sojourn she can still cook but I don't think she'd want to or have the time too, Ana canonically can't cook but she does know some recipes, with Brig I only think she'd learn how to cook small thing + her favorite meals.

Can Cook/Allowed to Cook -

Lucio and Roadhog didn't change because well, I came across nothing that indicated otherwise, same with Baptiste, and no one can tell me that Sojourn doesn't know how to cook. Moira and Widow on the other hand have information on them that they know how to cook from the cook book, and the fact that Widow lives alone. So they can cook.

Can cook some things -

Angela can mix things together, that's it, that's all she can cook that is edible, she is banned from serving anything other than muesli and soup cause that's literally all she can cook. Bastion's recipes indicate that he makes bird food for Ganymede so he can cook some things. Pharah and Ana know how to cook some special recipes and the bear minimum to keep themselves alive, other than that they can't cook. Same with Torb, he's too busy and Ingrid enjoys cooking so he never really learned anything other than his favorites. Same goes for Zarya and Brig.

Can't cook -

Hana has all her food made for her which indicates that she doesn't really know how to cook. The same goes for Winston, we also never see him really eat anything other than peanut butter and bananas. The only food Sombra can cook well is molletes and I will die on this hill, other than that she get take out or food from the bakery. Orisa is learning to cook but is still struggling, she'll be able to cook one day, but not today, the same goes for Echo (Cassidy and Efi are teaching them). Doomfist is a rich kid, and unlike Widow he doesn't really live in a circumstance where he wouldn't have people cooking for him, so this man doesn't know how to cook. Do I- Do I need to explain Kiriko? With her just watch the beginning of her cinematic. She doesn't know how to cook.

Banned -

Junkrat, obvious why he's banned. Same with Junker Queen. And honestly the same for Wreckingball too. Lena and Genji are banned because they either cause a food fight or they set fire to the kitchen. Genji has stopped setting fire to things but Cassidy has been hurt one too many times to take him off the ban list. Reaper keeps stealing people's food instead of cooking his own, not only that but he also set fire to the Talon kitchen. He's basically on probation. Just... Just look up the Symetra voiceline... it explains itself. Reinhardt can cook but he breaks too much stuff in the Gibraltar kitchen for anyone to safely let him cook. Same with Sigma. Cassidy let her cook once and it traumatized him. She's never getting of that ban list. Lifeweaver kept tinkering with the kitchen equipment and nearly exploded the base... safe to say no one trusted him in the kitchen after that. Ramattra hates humans, so he never learned how to cook, he also never really saw a point in cooking for others since most of the people he was close to didn't need to eat. The one time he did try and cook his anger got the better of him and he needed to clean the kitchen for two days... it was not a fun time.

Hope this explains the changes!

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch lore #overwatch headcanons #analysis

[soraavalon]

DM: So you all reach the top of these steep stairs and come into these crystalline glass doors, it's almost silver, the doors themselves are silver but there are these panes of glass that are in these jagged crystal fractals that reflect the light back to you and make these little purple twilight light dance around as they are opened for you by a pair of knights at the gesturing of the Starlight Prince. And you enter the interior of this large round room at the center of the palace, you can see hallways going off with other doors that lead to other places, but you walk in under this huge dome, above you you can see the night sky perfectly clear, there are soft sounds of water there's these lily ponds on either side of this marble floor that seem to be running out somewhere behind the throne room perhaps that the water's coming in and out. You see these cat's tails that are swaying, it's basically these interior ponds that are both wild and bog-like yet elegantly kept. On the far side is a raised dias with these two thrones and you see the monarchs talking to one another there leaned close.

DM: They look up as you all enter again led by the Starlight Prince, first to rise is the king; This monarch that you see is the picture of storybook regality, his mane of greying brown hair begins as small feathers along his high cheekbones and widow's peak hairline, his eyebrows exaggerated into feathered points that remind you of a horned owl. You see fine features elegant and powerful, yellow eyes that are a bit too large to look natural, so perfect as all archfey have been so perfect that it sends a chill through you. A beak-like nose and thin lips in a soft smile as he first sees his son and then a look of consternation as he sees the Lord of the Hunt. His beard is neat, short and pointed at the chin, upon his brow is a silver crown with sharp points reaching heavenwards

Nathaniel (OOC): [in chat] new goal: gotta level up so I can draw Swan's fey

DM: Each [something] with an eight-point star. A cloak of owl's feathers hangs about his shoulders matching the large wings folded at his back and at base of his rich velvet purple robe you can see his feet are owl talons, clicking against the marble floor as he steps down from his throne and quickly comes to meet you all halfway. His presence carries dignity and a sense of wisdom and wit but a small nagging part of your mind and heart will not let you forget that he may be dangerous. So... He holds up a hand to stop you all from approaching further and as he does there are several knights in the room that stand at attention. He looks to his son then to the Lord of the Hunt.

Owl King: [Sylvan] And what brings you all into my home?

DM: As he speaks its a voice in the soft ruffle of feathers, the surface of a pond shivering in the breeze and as he speaks you feel a sense of patience come over you, expectation and anticipation but without rush or haste. The Starlight Prince quickly explains the situation of, you know, that the Lord of the Hunt was working with the Flickering Knave, that you all know what happened to him and he's like 'And also.' He turns and presents Rymer who kind of steps out from the crowd kind of sheepish all of a sudden, his excitement turn into nervousness. And as he steps forward, you see the queen rise very quickly from her throne. She is stunning, of course, wrapped in pale silks and linens that make her seem to float, ethereal with a warm white fur cloak that boasts a large fluffy collar that widens out her willowy frame. Her wings are large and pale as moonlight, dotted with soft silver speckles and along her temples are two antennae, long elegant with golden fronds along the length. Her silver and snow-white hair is braided intricately into a low complex bun and her luminous grey eyes gleam with inner light. She flies from the raised platform and immediately lands the most graceful being you've ever seen and wraps Rymer into a tight hug, crying softly and holding him to her chest.

Mistletoe: Mistletoe is tearing up a bit because this is sweet.

Hunt: Yeah.

Tark: Tark doesn't say anything because why? Like he's trying to piece together what happened.

Marigold: Sometimes, you know, crimes are fun.

Tark: Yeah.

Hunt (OOC): Swan, can I guess that the Queen, I presume, has the moth aesthetic?

DM: Yes, she actually looks like a specific moth; the dotted line white moth or dot-lined white moth.

Hunt (OOC): Oooh. (IC): She just kind of more nods to herself 'cause she's had a feeling regarding the moths and his reaction to it whenever she's seen him, she's like 'Okay, I get it.'

DM: Yeah, the fact he seems to have an affinity for moths seems to clearly come from his step mother.

Marigold (OOC): Aww.

DM: She is speaking low against his hair, you can kind of make out the general 'Oh my god, my baby!' kind of you know a mom who has her kid back and just the Owl King is trying to appear as unaffected as possible 'cause there is a lot going on right now.

Owl King: [Sylvan] I see. And these pebbles are friends of yours?

DM: The Starlight Prince kind of shrugs.

Starlight Prince: More of Tadpole.

DM: He steps aside and lets the Owl King get a better look at all of you. He sort of lingers on Mistletoe and Marigold who are clearly the outliers of the group.

Mistletoe: [Sylvan] Hello Your Majesty.

Owl King: [sylvan] Greetings, you have come here for a purpose I take it? Not just to return my son home?

Mistletoe: Mistletoe looks at Marigold and then is just like, [Sylvan] "Well I'm just along for the ride." and nudges Mary with his elbow.

Marigold: [Sylvan] We were hoping to get some help back to the Material Plane.

Owl King: [Sylvan] Of course. What sort of help is required?

Marigold: [Sylvan] I mean, I would really like to not lose my memories more than anything.

DM: You feel the Lord of the Hunt touch your shoulder and just very quietly

Lord of the Hunt: [Sylvan] You will not. 'You' will not.

Marigold (OOC/IC?): It probably wouldn't be a bad thing then if everyone else lost their memories. (IC): [Sylvan] Okay, we're just hoping to not lose time then.

Owl King: This is a gift I can grant.

DM: The Queen of Moths pulls back from Rymer---

Tark: Tark kind of steps forward and he's holding onto Eudora's hand... (OOC): Hang on, what was whatshisface's name? The guy who took Eudora's...

DM: The Summer Knight.

Ethan: The Summer Knight. The guy who hired Jeremiah in the first place.

Tark (OOC): Got it, okay.

Marigold (OOC): That dickhead.

Tark (OOC): The piece of shit. (IC): Tark steps forward with Eudora and says, "If we could also request, the Summer Knight did something to our friend, she's not herself. We were hoping you could fix that?

DM: The Moth Queen kneels down to look at Eudora, she sort of gently and slowly reaches out and you see her fingers glow as she traces them across Eudora's brow and she frowns.

Moth Queen: I can perhaps heal this

DM: She speaks in the flutter of wings and the gentle warm crackle of a candle wick when she speaks, you feel deeply loved and passionately inspired.

Moth Queen: But either I can do this for you protect your memories as you return home. Not both.

Tark: Son of a bitch.

Ethan: [in chat] maybe it's for the best ya'll forgot some things...

Marigold: If we heal Eudora, Eudora could then use the favor?

Nathaniel (OOC): [in chat] including Eudora's price?

Tark (OOC): What was Eudora's prize?

DM & Hunt (OOC): A favor.

DM: From the Knave of Hearts.

Tark (OOC): Oh.

Ethan: [in chat] Hunt has a book.

Hunt: I have a journal.

DM: Hunt has been keeping a journal.

Hunt (OOC): Yeah which she has been updating almost every time everyone takes a break.

Marigold: Can I look after it?

Hunt (OOC): ....

Marigold: Can I make some edits?

Nathaniel (OOC): You can't read.

-laughter-

Hunt (OOC): Yeah Marigold can't read.

DM: You're illiterate, my friend.

Marigold: Yeah, my edits wouldn't be small.

Tark: Tark frowns.

Marigold (OOC): Don't need to be able to read to be able to cross out.

Tark: I think I could fix her on my own if I had time, so I think the not losing time is the most important.

#D&D mischief #Relni campaign #Relni Recap #Relni Chapter 42 #Adding three more dolls to the list XD #it seems that the blood bond protects Mary from being affected by the memory wipe #while it would be great to forget Heartbreaker and the Knave of Hearts not so much on everything else #Mary you have no right to decide that on your own #Hunt still has the journal it's her contingency for memory loss #the only way he's getting the journal is if he steals it from her

[cup-of-red-tea]

I’m still bitter that with the new 4-legendaries-per-event format we didn’t get 4 horsepeeps of the apocalyspe skin combo

#overwatch #fookfist moira reaper and idk who for hungery #some capitalist or clomate change denier? lmao #do we have any? #ashe is rich #widow? she's rich and talon too #yeah #she'll 100% watch someone die of hunger while sipping 245345k$ wine or some shit #also give moira plague doctor skin 2020

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Falling For You - Pharah x Fem!Reader

A/n: Bolded prompts are from Pinterest

“You’re okay, right? You’re not hurt?” Pharah asked she she landed in her Raptora suit meters away from where you were standing. Talon agents unconscious all around you.

“No, no, no, I’m fine! Totally fine, no, no, no. I’m fine.” You mumbled, hand pulling away from your right side to find the red iron-rich plasma leaking from the gun shot wound.

“Really? Because you’re repeating your words, you look pale and you look like you’re about to topple over.” Pharah stated, taking a step towards you in her Raptora suit. You’d call her a big blue falcon usually.

Yeah, you might want to catch me.” You muttered as your vision went hazy and you fell forwards in a dizzy blur.

///

The beeping of the heart rate monitor and whispers of your friends was what caused you to wake up, eyes peeping open to see who was present in the recovery room.

“Hey Fareeha...” You murmured drowsily, a smile gracing your features.

“Hush, Y/n. If you don’t rest, you won’t heal...” Fareeha whispered, trying to fight back how the corners of her lips tried to tug themselves into a smile.

“I fell for you...” You giggled, pretty much out of it as Fareeha flushed a bright red. Fareeha blushed redder at the snicker from the person next to her, ignoring the knowing smirk of the person in the doorway in the process.

“Hey Brigitte, hey Ana... imma sleep now, ‘cause Fareeha said so...” You mumbled, sliding down in your recovery bed to try sleep, ignoring the dull sting of your right side.

“Since when did you do what Fareeha tells you, Y/n?” Ana asked, you didn’t pick up the teasing nature of the question as Fareeha made a noise that caused you to smile.

“She’s pretty and I-” You fell silent without finishing that sentence as you fell asleep causing Brigitte to muffle her laughter behind her hand, Fareeha face-palming at the smirk her mother was giving her.

“That was so cute.” Brigitte exclaimed, quietening down at Angela’s warning look as she entered to look over your vitals.

“You can all come back when Y/n is awake... are you okay Fareeha? You look awfully flushed, do you have a temperature? What do you think Ana?” Angela teased causing Fareeha to glare. 

She felt like she was 12 years old again, hanging out with a 3 year old Brigitte and a 7 and a half year old you. Fareeha was 12 years old when she discovered girls. You found it hilarious since you didn’t understand properly at the time how she was always staring at 17 year old Angela. Brigitte just wanted to make her cat a jetpack.

///

You let out a groan as you woke up properly, the effects of the painkillers that had made you loopy (reminding you of being on laughing gas to remove your wisdom teeth) had finally worn off. 

“Ah, you’re awake. How are you feeling? Fareeha has been especially worried since you collapsed in her arms.” Angela explained causing you to grimace.

“Thirsty, where is everyone?” You asked causing Angela to sigh, checking your bandages in case they needed changing yet. “Zarya took Brigitte and Fareeha to lift weights in the gym as a distraction. Ana is with Jack and Gabriel... Reaper.” Angela explained, correcting herself at the last words.

“You didn’t expect Reaper to be a double agent for Overwatch... or that Widowmaker and Sombra would come with him since Widow’s brainwashing started to crack.” You guessed, smiling slightly at the look on Angela’s face.

“No, I did not... Moira however-” Angela began but was cut off as footsteps approached. “Nice to see you’re awake... how are you feeling Y/n?” 

“Like I was shot in the side... I’m kinda thirsty too though.” You replied, smiling gratefully at the glass of water given to you courtesy of Angela.

“Do you want me to go tell the others about-” 

“Can I go see them? Am I cleared to leave this bed?” You asked causing Angela to smirk. “No strenuous activity or you’ll rip your stitches and you’ll need your bandages changing before you go, so I’ll do that now then you can be brought a change of clothing, Genji, if you could ask Lena to get Y/n’s clothing, we should be fine here.”

“Of course Angela. I will be right back.” Genji replied, you could feel his grin even under his mask causing you to roll your eyes.

“Did he bring you non-Swiss chocolates again?” You asked after a while causing Angela to pause, ignoring your amused looks as she began to change your bandages.

You smiled as Lena zipped in with a pile of clothing for you. “Oh Lena, don’t tell anyone I’m awake... I want to surprise them.” You explained causing Lena to grin.

“I bet Fareeha will love it.” She winked at that causing you to frown.

“Okay, what happened when I was out of it?” You asked, turning to face a smirking Angela.

///

You sighed as you tugged on your oversized hoodie, being wary of the stitches keeping the bullet wound together as Angela returned, giving you the all clear.

“You are wearing shorts under that, correct?” Angela enquired causing you to frown.

“Of course, I’m not walking around the base in my underwear...” You replied, not realising how Angela had been teasing you as you walked out of the infirmary and down the hallways to find where everyone would be.

Tilting your head to the side, you watched in amusement at Sombra hacking something as Widowmaker,  Amélie, was sat reading. Fareeha, Zarya and Brigitte were around the table, talking. You looked up as Ana entered from a conversation with Solider and Reaper in another room.

“Looks like everyone’s settled in just fine.” You remarked sarcastically causing everyone to glance at you. “You’re awake.” A voice spluttered causing you to dramatically bow.

“Well I’m not sleep-walking and talking.” You remarked back, ignoring the stifled laughter. 

“Always a flare for the dramatics, even as a child.” Ana remarked causing you to shrug.

“I think I’m allowed some dramatics, having got a cluster of bullets in my side.” You replied, hand lingering over your bandaged side.

“I thought it was one bullet...”

“Turns out it wasn’t one large bullet... I don’t know, ask Angela... or Genji with his non-Swiss chocolates.” You replied.

“You must let that go Y/n.” You smirked at that.

“Whatever. So I’m awake and off missions for a while so I don’t bust my stitches.” You replied, flicking a piece of hair behind your ear before you heard a chair scrap the floor and footsteps approach.

“Can I talk to you please?”

You looked up at the blank expression on Fareeha’s face causing you to raise an eyebrow but you nodded all the same, following her from the room.

“Are you-” You began to ask but she interrupted you, steering the conversation into a different topic.

“Do you remember what you said when you first woke up?” 

You frowned at that, thinking to yourself before it came back to you, cheeks flushing red as you looked at her, stutters escaping your lips.

Fareeha raised an eyebrow at this, swallowing as her cheeks tinted a light pink. “Was it true? What you said, was it true?”

You sighed before nodding, looking directly at your feet before fingers gently ran down from your cheek to your jaw to your chin, forcing you to look her in the eye as her gaze softened at your vulnerability.

“I fell for you too...” She admitted causing your eyes to widen.

“Just not literally as well as metaphorically?” You joked, eliciting a smile from the former Helix chief of security.

“You’re cute S/n.” Fareeha retorted causing you to grin.

“I’m adorable, Amari.” 

Fareeha rolled her eyes at that, a smirk on her lips as she leaned forwards, closing the gap between you and her. Lips pressed against yours. Eyes closed.

Moments later she pulled away with a bigger smirk as she saw how your confident facade had faded and you were a blushing stuttering mess.

Your eyes fell to the floor as you heard a noise to the side of the pair of you. Fareeha’s confident facade faded as she saw the smirk on her mother’s face. Brigitte grinned, holding back the desire to clap.

“About time, don’t you think?”

“Finally.” Tracer exclaimed causing you to face-palm before taking Fareeha’s hand and gently pulling her away from the crowd.

“That was embarrassing.” You mumbled as you shut the door to your room, watching Fareeha sit on your bed, fiddling with the tassel of a cushion.

“You caught me off guard with that kiss.” You teased causing Fareeha to chuckle, not looking at you until the cushion was removed from her lap, replaced with you. “Is this okay?” You mumbled, unsure before her hands gripped you waist to keep you steady.

“Don’t fall off.” Fareeha mumbled back, pulling you further towards her.

“I already fell for you, don’t you remember?” You joked causing Fareeha to smile, pressing her lips to yours momentarily.

“I do.”

#pharah x reader #pharah imagine #fareeha amari x reader #fareeha amari imagine #overwatch x reader #overwatch imagine #overwatch #pharah #fareeha amari #pinterest prompts

[widowbra]

HEY LOOK! It’s more art from me since... early 2017? I think? Meh I lost track

Sorry for the bad anatomy and my messy art style lol 

Anyways, I always had this headcanon that Amelie somehow found out that sombra never had a quinceañera and that sombra always wanted one

Idk how she would’ve found that out, maybe one day sombra was having a casual conversation with Amelie and then shared a little too much about her past and told her that most latinas have Quinceañeras while shes never had one due to being an orphan? Idk I’m still thinking it over on how she found out lol

Then one day after they return from a mission where it required them to wear something unique and fancy (kinda like the masquerade comic) then Amelie surprises sombra with a small “non traditional quinceanera” that she set up beforehand and it’s a small one due to lack of time and resources they have since they probably work for talon non stop, despite widow being rich and all (plus no one at talon would want to be sombras chambelanes lol)... AGAIN still working out the story in my head, I don’t really write fan fic that much and I need a refresher on the current lore, I haven’t bothered with the lore for a while  since blizzard isn’t doing shit with it lol 

Also, since Amelie is a professional ballet dancer I also thought she can show sombra a few basic moves and whatnot while sombra is nervous because she’s never danced with anyone before 

Btw I don’t really call sombra by her “real” name (even though I love it) because it might be a cover up name that blizzard might change it later on in the lore, that is if they even bother to expand on sombras back story 

#sombra #Olivia colomar #Widowmaker #amelie lacroix #Overwatch #talon #spiderbyte #sombramaker #game #blizzard #my art #drawing #draw #art #digital art #sketch #messy #quinceanera #masquerade #dia de muertos #day of the dead #mexican #french #mexicana

[nitewrighter]

how would you feel about writing a spiderbyte mini fic about their first mission together after defecting to overwatch? id love to see more of your take on them!

Vishkar buildings never really looked like they belonged. Too clean, too bright. Like something well-meaning-but-totalitarian aliens dropped out of the sky that could vaporize you if you misstepped within its borders. The Burgas Vishkar development was no different–a near-crystalline looking spire hugging some old docks, clashing against what bits of the city managed to survive the crisis.

A handful of rooftops away from Vishkar’s spire, Sombra breathed in the salty night air as she opened up a purple screen with a wave of her fingers. “Ah…. just like old times, eh Araña? Just you, and me, and a geriatric war criminal pumped full of government steroids.”

Widowmaker huffed and Jack made a scoffing grunt.

“We don’t need a chaperone, you know,” said Widowmaker, glancing sidelong at Jack.

“As much as I would like to not have to spend a night listening to Sombra talk–” Jack started.

“Hey!”

“You’re still being vetted. So you’re both being kept far away from the front lines, and no, you don’t get your guns.”

“What?!” Sombra and Widowmaker said at the same time.

“What is even the point of my being here if I can’t even—” Widowmaker started.

“You’re making us be lookouts,” said Sombra, furrowing her brow.

“Believe me, if I could have your first mission be a dry run, I would. Hell, you two were be lucky to be on the Orca considering Amélie’s state—”

Widowmaker’s eyes narrowed and Jack caught himself.

“But you’re on a real mission. You’re just hanging back for now. We play it slow and we play it safe,” said Jack, before looking at Widowmaker, “I know you want them to pay for what they did to you, I get it. I know you’re both good at what you do because you were both that big of a pain in my ass when you were on Talon’s side. But you also know your standing with this team is tenuous at best. So you need to play nice. Sombra–you’re eyes on the interior. Widow, exterior. We’ll be checking in over comms throughout the mission. Symmetra and Zenyatta are on the orca if you need backup, but you should be far enough from the action for it not to be a necessity.”

One of Symmetra’s teleporter pads opened up next to Jack.

“We’ll be counting on you,” said Jack.

Sombra gave a sarcastic salute before Jack disappeared into the blue light of the teleporter.

“‘Not listen to Sombra talk’ ‘Play nice’–” Sombra mimicked Jack, “Ass. I’m charming.”

“I know,” said Widowmaker.

“I am a delight,” Sombra insisted.

“I know, mon coeur,” said Widowmaker, smiling a little. She sighed and brought her visor down as Sombra brought up several screens of the building’s exterior and interior security feeds. It was a pretty run-of-the-mill infiltration and extraction mission–just snagging some Utopaean building schematics from one of Vishkar’s shell companies. Sombra had told Jack several times that she could slip in and out very easily with her thermoptic cloaking, but that brought up the counter-argument that the team couldn’t keep track of her if she did that, so here she was, pouting and thumbing through screens.

“I feel like an idiot,” muttered Widowmaker, tilting her head and looking at the various perspectives her tactical visor gave her, “No gun…”

“…Do you want a gun?” Sombra tilted her head.

“What sort of question is that?” Widowmaker’s visor clicked up off of her eyes.

“Well I mean….” Sombra gestured, “You’re away from Talon. You don’t… y’know, have to be what Talon made you.”

Widowmaker’s yellow eyes were fixed on her. Sombra had to break her own eyes downward.

“I mean… you’ll always be my Araña no matter what, but you get to figure out who you want to be now,” she said, scratching at her neural implants.

“I don’t have time to learn to be anything else,” muttered Widowmaker, “Talon made a weapon–the best we can do is turn it against them.”

“But what about after?” Sombra brought her eyes up to meet hers again.

“You think there’s an ‘after’ for us?” Widowmaker arched an eyebrow.

“You know me,” said Sombra, enlarging one of her security feeds at the sight of movement in it, “Planning for everything.”

“I wouldn’t think a conspiracy theorist would be such an optimist,” said Widowmaker with a slight smile.

Sombra snorted. “I’m a survivor. I don’t intend on changing that anytime soon. And you can bet whatever I survive, I’m dragging you along with me,” Sombra smiled and dragged one of her windows to the side, apparently rearranging them for easier viewing, but also a bit demonstratively, “From fallout shelter to fallout shelter if I have to.”

Widowmaker smiled at this and brought her visor back down.

“Check in 1, how’s everyone looking?” Jack’s voice sounded over the comms.

Sombra brought up an audio feed screen to keep track of who was talking.

“Orca backup, standing by,” Symmetra’s voice sounded over the comm line.

“Northern infiltration, now making my way through the third floor,” Genji’s voice chimed in.

“South infiltrators confirming rendezvous in 90 seconds,” said Jack, “Surveillance team, how are we looking?”

There was half a beat before Sombra realized Jack was talking to them and clicked into the comm channel.

“Still…. surveilling?” said Sombra.

“How are we looking?” said Jack.

Sombra’s eyes flicked to the screens and Widowmaker tilted her head slightly, both eyeng the interior and exteriors of the building. Thankfully, being only a shell company of Vishkar, this particular spire wasn’t as heavily guarded as the others. Sombra knew she didn’t have to scramble the guard’s GPS coordinates to further keep them away from the team, but tonight she decided she was nice like that.

“Still clear,” said Sombra, her eyes flicking across her screens.

“Good,” said Jack, “Update us if that changes.”

Sombra paused, “I could go in and knock out all of their-”

“We know. Stand by and surveil,” said Jack.

Sombra scoffed.

“Understood,” said Widowmaker as several audio feeds clicked out of the comm channel.

“Look at us,” said Sombra, “Surveillance team.” Sombra frowned and looked at the Vishkar spire. “I know all of Sanjay’s little toys backwards and forwards. I could make this mission much shorter if they just….” she trailed off and huffed.

“I’d feel safer with my rifle, but none of them would. I’ll choose to be flattered in that regard,” said Widowmaker with some resignation.

“We could mess them up,” Sombra said, giving a glance to Widowmaker.

“Mm,” Widowmaker conceded.

“Surveillance team. Lead them in circles and stuff…” Sombra trailed off, feeling the enthusiasm fading out of her voice.

“Except you don’t actually want to do that,” said Widowmaker.

Sombra pursed her lips and crinkled her brow thoughtfully, “I’m used to wanting to do it,” she said, turning her attention back to her screens, “You and Gabe and Akande and Moira… it was fun to run circles around you guys.”

“Gabriel knew,” said Widowmaker.

“Gabe knew,” said Sombra.

“You don’t want to run circles around Overwatch?”

“Never stopped,” said Sombra, before looking back at her screens, “But things are different now.”

“Different how?”

“Still a bigger picture, and, yes, being in Overwatch means we don’t have nearly as many resources as we did with Talon–and of course, we know Overwatch isn’t willing to do what Talon’s willing to do, and we know Talon is very willing to kill us and Overwatch’s sense of protection towards us is dubious at best–wow, I’m depressing myself–”

“Sombra,” Sombra felt a cool hand on her shoulder. Widowmaker’s visor was still down. Sombra wasn’t sure why she kept assuming Widowmaker couldn’t see when it was down when the truth was she was seeing far more with it. Maybe it was the fact that her eyes were covered. But then the visor clicked back off her eyes. Yellow. Unnatural. There were times when Sombra could almost swear she could see tapetum lucidum in Amélie’s eyes like some kind of nocturnal animal. But there was a warmth there. A wary, quiet warmth that always seemed to clear Sombra’s head of all the hundreds of little voices of countless streams of information.

“I….” Sombra huffed, “My point is–maybe it was working with rich assholes like Vialli and Max but… if I’m going to take down a a messed up secret hierarchy, I should probably be… not in the ‘have a lot of money that we got by exploiting people and also we’re gunning down random civilians’ team.” 

“And you threw away everything you had built up with Talon just to save me,” said Widowmaker, “Perhaps you are more like the so-called ‘heroes’ than you think.”

Sombra made a gagging sound “Don’t joke about that stuff,” she said with a snicker.

“You tell me I can’t joke all the time,” said Widowmaker with a smirk. Her smirk shrank a little and she tilted her head. “Hey,” she said quietly, and she brought up her hand. Her thumb only barely grazed against Sombra’s jawline when Sombra leaned in and went on her tiptoes. The screens that framed Sombra phased through her, only light after all. Some text on the screens stretched over Widowmaker’s torso, distorted by the contours of her ribs and waist as Sombra wrapped her arms around her. It was a long, tentative kiss, steadying, and thankfully distracting from the tedium of being lookouts. So naturally it was interrupted.

“Check 2 to Orca and surveillance teams,” Jack’s voice crackled over the comm channels, “Status?”

“Just like old times?” Widowmaker said quietly, her words breaking the kiss apart.

“Same shit, different geriatric war criminal pumped full of government steroids,” said Sombra with a grin.

#spiderbyte #god i missed writing dialogue for these two #i can't believe i fell off the wagon so long

[paradoxmage117]

Lifeblood

Hey guys. Here’s my Halloween offering. God, it felt good to get back to writing. Hope anyone who reads this enjoys!

It started out as part of the programming. Talon wanted their Widowmaker to be obedient beyond a shadow of a doubt, to be completely responsive to their wishes. So they created an incentive.

Upon a successful mission, a successful kill, her brain was programed to release a burst of endorphins into her body. Dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin. The rush they provided was designed not just to make Widowmaker willing to kill but to make her want it, crave it, depend on it.

To Talon, it was a way to keep her rabid and obedient. It made her a good weapon.

And for a while it worked.

But like any drug, the body becomes accustomed, and eventually, Widowmaker began to lose the rush, the high. At the moment of the kill, she no longer felt alive.

And upon losing that feeling, Widowmaker realized just how much she needed it.

At first she tried to fix the problem with volume, taking more and more lives on the battlefield. Talon applauded her efforts in public while clapping themselves on the back even more in private, proud of themselves for creating such an effective tool.

And this solution worked… for a time. Killing more people released larger doses of hormones, and for a while the feeling was back, that beautiful chemical ecstasy that she craved above all else. But to that too she eventually became accustomed, and she was back to chasing that high once again.

And then came a day when she pulled the trigger of Widow’s Kiss and sat watching a man gasping his last in the cold streets, his crimson blood soaking into the asphalt. And suddenly, she knew how she could feel alive again. She knew what she had to do.

Her first victim was taken from a frost blasted street in Zürich as he stumbled home from a bar that was still burning the shadows from the dark corners of the streets and the dark corners of the minds of its patrons. She moved behind him silently, swift as a shadow, clapped a hand to his mouth to silence his cries and dragged him off the main thoroughfare and into a darkened alley. Her hands gave a swift twist that was so ingrained into her muscles that it required no thought, and the crack that followed silenced his muffled cries against her gloves and stilled his feeble struggles against her grip. He had no hope of escape anyway. She needed him.

Pulling a dagger from a hidden sheath beneath her coat, she sliced quickly and cleanly across his throat, watching in something akin to awe as the man’s life poured out of the slit in his flesh like a crimson tide. Trepidation coloring her actions, she stretched out one gloved hand, dipped it into the flow, and lifted it to her mouth.

With her first taste she was lost.

She dined straight from the wound after that first drop hit her tongue. The rush, the buzz, the burning in her veins as she consumed the liquid that had until recently filled his…

She remembered what it was like to feel alive.

An eternity passed in a hazy, drugged bliss, where Widowmaker’s only thought was of the rushing energy surging through her, the strength at which her heart beat, the sharpness of her mind, the way her every cell burned with life, thriving off the drugs her own mind fed her. It was better than any simple assassination ever was.

When a fragment of sanity returned she looked down upon the body lying in the street, feeling some surprise at seeing the faint, and not so faint, teeth marks ringing the wound. Licking her lips, she tasted more of that rosey liquid, and shuddered with momentary bliss at the warmth and richness of it.

Leaving the dead man where he lay, she turned and began to walk back to where Talon has set up a safe house for her for the next week in between missions. No one would find her there.

But they would find him.

Turning, she looked back at the empty shell in the alley, and the wash of pleasure that had gripped her mere minutes before flowed back into her, shaded slightly by memory. She turned away again, and walked to her temporary shelter.

As she lay in silence waiting for the dawn, Widowmaker was certain of two things.

They will not catch her.

And she will have to do this again. Drink again.

It is too good not to.

Ao3 Page

Ko-Fi

#MyWork #fanfic #fanfiction #overwatch #overwatch fanfic #widowmaker #blood #addiction #vampire with a twist #not your everyday monster

[weerd-overwatch-imagines-blog]

Could I request Tracer, Widowmaker, and Sombra nervously trying to reveal their feelings to their S/O and how they go about doing it?

Thank you for being patient I am a very busy person and school is starting up again for me at the end of the month, that on top of my normal work and I will only be able to do complete a submission every once in a whileAlso please leave your criticisms in either the notes or in a DM I am always looking to improve

(digressing aside) Your request is granted HAIL 2 U

Tracer- Tracer was never good at telling people how she really feels, especially people she cares about so telling them was going to be quite difficult - Tracer had feelings for them for quite a while, it was just something about them but she didn’t know what it was- She decided it was time to reveal her feelings so that she could either face the music or the rejection without sacrificing her pride- Tracer took them into a  room one day to settle this “Hi, okay I need to talk to you about something a bit.. sensitive” she had only started and the weight of anxiety was already crushing her- Why is this so hard? Tracer thought but she already knew why, it was because she didn’t want to be rejected “Okay this is kind of hard to say, especially to you but… ah hell” - This should be simple and easy but it is impossible just to say three words that mean a whole lot “Alright I just need you to know this, I kinda like you a bit.. no not a bit a lot” that was it she finally said it- but when they smiled Tracer’s worries began to fade “Thanks I like you too, very much. It all began a few months ago when we got assigned together and I just kind of gravitated towards you”- Tracer’s anxiety was dying out at this news “So what do I call you? Tracer?” but with her normal chuckle she replied with “No just call me Lena” when it comes to being happy, two heads are better than one

Widowmaker- Widowmaker was very well known for achieving what is thought to be impossible but they were just very difficult, now loving someone without even having emotions that is impossible but somehow she achieved that.- They weren’t someone in high command or wealth they were just a normal citizen but for some reason Widowmaker felt completely allured to them. She had tried to introduce herself on a few occasions but for some reason they never questioned it, not even her blue skin.- It was tough not feeling emotions but she supposed that if she had them then it wouldn’t be so bad, to that assumption she laid out a plan while walking down the street but in the middle of her planning the bumped into someone or to be more certain.. them- “Oh I’m so sorry miss” they said while extending a hand to help Widow up “ya know, we’ve met quite alot is a coincidence or should I assume that you’re doing it on purpose” which actually made her laugh a bit- “Hey do you want to go get a coffee” uh oh this wasn’t part of the plan but she was too deep in now “Okay then” Widow couldn’t say that things were exactly going to plan but the show must go on- Widow followed them to a nearby coffee shop, made their order and then sat down “Hey I should probably ask for your name, mine is (insertnamehere)” and so keeping along with them she said “My name is Amelie Guillard” and to hearing this they smiled “huh, I dont meet very many french people around here”- “Ya know, I made the joke earlier about meeting on purpose but that’s kind of what I’ve been doing” this was definitely not to plan, she was supposed to say this “Thats wierd because I’ve been doing the same”- This confused them quite alot “Why, there’s not exactly anything interesting about me, unlike you” they were probably referring to her blue skin or her golden eyes “And that’s what I like about you, its because you are generic but I was born into a wealthy family and so I was expected to marry some rich or incredibly smart guy but I didn’t want that” - “So you’re saying that you like me” they said with a smirk which then made Widow realise the corner she backed herself into “I.. ah I suppose I do.. like you” she said with sweat dripping down her forehead and she felt like time stopped but it then resumed when they replied to her “Thats okay I actually like you too”- They had reached an impasse of neither knowing what to do after this until Widow spoke up “Hey.. Do you maybe want to go on a date some time” and yet again their cheerful personality reassured her “Yeah I’d like to” and so they exchanged phone numbers. It was slow and painful but they got there and Amelie actually expressed her feelings in a non-hostile way, it was progress- “Hey why’s your skin blue” “Science”

Sombra (btw this was kinda influenced by the anime ‘Erased’)- The two had been friends since childhood and were orphaned by the omnic crisis and so as they grew into adults they ended up moving into the same apartment not knowing the other had feelings for the other or that Sombra worked for Talon- The day went as it normally did until later on in the evening when Sombra was watching a romcom movie “Okay what the hell, these people are childhood friends and neither have the balls to tell each other that they love the other” but her room-mate just chuckled to themselves “its kinda like us… except with the love part” - Both of them had a sigh of relief at that because neither felt that they were ready to tell the other that they actually liked them “Do you ever think that there might have been someone that you liked but you never told them until it was too late” and this created a sharp pain in Sombra’s heart, what if she would be too late when she decided to tell them “I’m going to bed, see you tomorrow”- This was just an excuse for her to be alone with her thoughts and she couldn’t get it out of her mind that she would be too late to do it and it was eating her up inside so after a hour of coaxing herself she decided to tell her room-mate that she liked them- Sombra walked across the apartment living room to her room-mate’s room and upon walking in she saw them sitting in their bed on a laptop “Hi I need to talk to you about something, urgent” - Sombra sat down on the bed “I feel that its time that I had told you something quite important to me” it was time to tell, but with every word that came out of her mouth it became harder to speak- And so before she gave up Sombra decided to spit it out with no worry of rejection “Okay I like you very much” and upon saying that time for her divided in two and she felt like it was time, things are now going to become awkward and soon they’ll become farther apart and the final judgement was in their next words- “You know, I was actually gonna come into your room to tell you the same” a smile creeped onto Sombra’s face as she was speechless “I was actually on my laptop trying to come up with a line on how to tell you” - This was easily one of the best moments in her life, who else to be in a relationship with but her best friend and so she came closer to them and told them “thank you” before settling in a kiss

(to requester: I don’t know where your dad went, sorry)

#Overwatch #tracer #lena oxton #widowmaker #amelie lacroix #sombra

[rosaleigharts]

The Start of a Widowmaker/Hanzo Fanfic?

[I’m trying to write again, and thought that a simple fanfic would be a good start! I’d like to continue it, but wanted to present the first chapter first. This is a low-key ship for me (and the only girl I ship Hanzo with), but there’s not nearly enough of it out there. Please let me know what you think and if I should continue!] Aim. Focus. Don’t let a single breath make either shift. Focus. Focus on the target. Pull the string taut...then release.

The arrow shoots, silently zipping through the air with the breeze only further assisting its accuracy. 

It embedded itself in the shoulder of Hanzo’s target: a rich eccentric planning to fund a newer, “better” cybernetics lab in Hanamura; far too close to the heart of the city and the Shimada estate for Hanzo’s liking. There were far too many in Japan, anyway. 

Blood splattered the paper walls and the man’s desk, sending the room into a panic with whatever evening meeting they were having incredibly adjourned. It wasn’t a killing blow, nor was it meant to be; it was merely a warning shot, from the infamous archer-assassin. 

The target’s face hadn’t moved away from an understandable expression of shock, but he also wasn’t falling unconscious. Perhaps that was a good thing. Hanzo didn’t really care, actually, as he calmly watched the chaos through the large windows. He didn’t linger for too long, however; he knew better than that; and he was soon turning to make his leave, adjusting his tie as he stepped away. 

Deafening in the relative quiet, though, was the boom of a sniper rifle. Hanzo stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. He quickly turned around and rushed back to the top of the pagoda roof he was on, eyes quickly scanning the room. Blood soaked the walls, now, and there was a morbid hole in the target’s head. There was no recovering from that. Yet there was still only one hole in the large window; there was no telling where that sniper had come from. Hanzo grit his teeth and growled, quickly looking around. In the moonlight, he spotted what looked to be someone leaping in a graceful arch from one roof equal to Hanzo’s up to a taller one. He wasted no time in rushing towards it. He followed, climbing and hopping skillfully from building to building until he could climb up to the one his enemy sniper had landed on. He nocked an arrow immediately, but there was no one here. Another sound of a hookshot, but no visual to follow; this time it was behind him. He spun and flicked his arrow to sonar before shooting it at another curved roof, higher still. He caught a glimpse of someone on the other side of the roof, stepping gracefully across it. Hanzo smirked, and leapt that way.

He hopped into view with an arrow nocked, sliding down the roof with his own grace only to be surprised when the enemy target walked right off the roof, with Hanzo just barely catching a dark glimpse of their profile before they disappeared in between the buildings. He gritted his teeth harder as he ran to the edge right as they used their hookshot again and flew back up, a silhouette against the waning moon. It was now that he realized it was a woman.

Hanzo growled. Damn it all, whomever they were, they were toying with him! Or perhaps leading him into a trap...he knew he shouldn’t risk it. Having someone out-snipe you was not worth getting killed over. Ironically, perhaps. He lowered his bow and slipped the arrow back into the quiver. He’d look into this; put the guards and the clan on high alert. He leapt off of the pagoda roof onto its neighbor, which had a flatter roof. From there, he made his way home. The Widowmaker watched through her visor as the archer made his way less frantically across the buildings. She doubted he’d dropped his guard completely, if at all, but certainly he’d thought he had lost her. She hummed with a smirk from her spot on the ground. Well, the night was far from over, and she still hadn’t met her objective. It was time to surprise him. She aimed and shot her hookshot at the corner of a building, keeping hidden behind taller buildings as she chose shorter ones to be shadowed in. She followed him carefully, using her hookshot less often so as not to alarm him right away, and she used it mostly to propel herself forwards so she could catch up to him. 

Her heels clicked on the roof as she landed a little ways away behind Hanzo, their figures cast in shadow as thick clouds covered the moon. Hanzo immediately turned around and shot an arrow which she had already ducked to avoid; with her visor, she had the upper hand here. She was quick to toss a venom mine his way to stun him, and he  stumbled with violent coughs, then growled as he nocked an arrow again.

“Non, non, non, cherie. Je veux juste dire bonjour,” she soothed. 

“Ninhongo hanasu!” Hanzo demanded through a cough, shooting a sonic arrow towards where he heard her voice. 

It hit the ground by her feet. She purred, “How about English, monsieur archer? We both know that, don’t we?”

Hanzo frowned as he spotted her figure. Her gun was resting at her side, not aimed at him. He still nocked another arrow and aimed it at her chest. “Do not take me for a fool, woman. You have stepped into dangerous territory; /Shimada/ territory. I will not hesitate to shoot you.”

“I don’t doubt that,” she replied calmly, “You are a dangerous sniper, even with your terribly out-of-date technology. However...based on your performance tonight, I begin to doubt your skills,” she chuckled, “You missed.”

“I did not miss.” the archer hissed furiously,  “I did not intend for that man to die! That shot was meant as a warning, not as a kill. What business do you have that includes killing my target?”

“Tsk, what makes you think I have business with him? My business...is with you, cherie.”

Hanzo glared, the sonic arrow’s visual fading away and leaving them in darkness, aside from whatever glowed red on the woman’s head. He aimed for that instead. “Explain,” he ordered. 

Widowmaker smirked in the darkness, still watching him through her visor. “You run a powerful organization, Monsieur Shimada, and have a certain skill set that...interests certain higher-ups in mine. And I come from an international organization which is looking for people like you to ally with; perhaps even to take you in as more than just an ally. A top-tier agent, like myself.”

Hanzo furrowed, putting the pieces together until he could see the full picture. The clouds covering the moon parted, and the bright moonlight revealed each of them. “You are from Talon,” he said in the same moment, made all the more certain as he eyed her appearance: a black and white uniform, with talon’s logo on the small top she wore. Black gloves, red lights on her weapons and visor, all contrasted by her pale, cool-colored skin and dark blue hair. When she clicked the side of her visor, it moved back up to reveal her eyes; a striking amber shade. 

She set her hand on her hip. “Oui. You are a smart man, Monsieur Shimada.” Hanzo frowned, then furrowed, then slowly, cautiously, lowered his bow. “Tell me your intentions,” he demanded, “/Now/.”

“I do not plan to force you to come with me, if that is what you’re implying,” she said, “I am merely putting the offer on the table. Talon can give you power, influence, and the means to strengthen your family’s empire more than it already is. In return, you will be an asset; or an agent, if you prefer.” “And if I refuse?” he asked. 

Widowmaker gave a light shrug. “Then I will leave you for now, and someone will ask again later.” She set her gun down as a peace offering and slowly stepped towards him, feminine and graceful in every sense of the words. Hanzo’s grip on his bow tightened, but he eventually stood up straighter and lowered his bow completely, dropping his arms to his sides with one holding the bow and the other still holding the arrow. 

If she attacked him up close, he needed to be able to stab or swing his weapons at her. Having them by his sides allowed this. 

“You may have intended to leave that man alive for now, but eventually, you would have taken him out. So there was no reason in waiting,” she purred as her heels clicked against the concrete. “You are an /assassin/, Monsieur Shimada. A sniper; a Scion. Not some ruffian. Take it from me,” she stood before him, tall in her heels, though Hanzo was unmoved by it. Her actions were less threatening and more...forthcoming. She slowly reached up to adjust his tie and collar, saying, “Whenever you shoot, shoot to kill. One shot, one kill. It’s so much more satisfying that way.”

Hanzo scoffed, though his expression was darkly amused. “There are times for harm and times for death. And unlike you, perhaps, I do not enjoy my killings. Not...all of them, at least.” He didn’t dare glance away; weakness could kill him here; but he did step away from her, brushing her hands away with his shoulder. “Hm,” Widowmaker hummed in consideration. She said nothing more, though, and stepped back as well. “Have a nice night, Monsieur Shimada. Talon will contact you again. Or,” she pulled a black business card out from her bosom, and flicked it his way. It landed on the ground before his feet. “You can contact Talon. Simply say you were kissed by the widow, and they’ll know who you are. Au revoir, Monsieur,” she waved, picking up her gun and throwing it over her shoulder. Hanzo had his bow nocked again the moment he watched her pick up the gun, but she merely smirked and aimed her hookshot, sailing away into the night. 

Hanzo did not follow her this time. He put his arrow back into his quiver, then glanced to the card on the ground. Narrowing his eyes, he bent down to pick it up; it was perfectly plain aside from a dark grey phone number that was hard to read unless you angled it just right in the light. 

How annoying. 

He stared at it for several long moments before finally shaking his head and turning away to hurry back to the estate. 

He pocketed the card, safe in his vest.

#Overwatch #venomarrow #hanzoxwidowmaker #widowmakerxhanzo #straight ship #fanfic #overwatch fanfic #hanzo shimada x widowmaker #widowmaker x hanzo shimada #amelie lacroix #hanzo shimada #widowmaker #fanfiction #bad french #bad japanese #scion hanzo #talon #talon widowmaker #overwatch retribution

[poutypanic]

Finding Purpose Chap 12

Chap Summary: Welcome to Angst Town, USA. A lil under 6K

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10529928/chapters/26581890

Fic Summary: You've been living alone in Hanamura for the past five years, and are content to stay that way. You have a troubled past and have let it isolate you. One night a ruckus is coming from the Shimada Castle. Against your better judgment you check it out, eventually, you end up befriending an archer with a past as equally troubling as yours.This is a romance/fluff and slow burn, coupled with action and angst.

This mission has been a damn mess from the get go. There are far more Talon agents here than anyone had thought there would be. While this development is giving you a severe case of angina, Morrison is taking it as good news. This must mean that the Doomfist gauntlet has been stashed here. Why else would there be a need for so much security? This was supposed to be a simple scoping mission. A team sent in to see if those rumors are true, and it’s looking like that’s most likely a yes. This compound is large, tall, and confusing. It's clear that it had been repurposed. What used to be a building for business and pushing papers, now being used by a terrorist organization to house something valuable and dangerous.

While you and Hanzo are sprinting across an open expanse of space in pursuit of an entryway into the building, Widowmaker starts her assault. A terribly loud shot rings out and bounces off the walls. Making it hard to figure out where she is perched. The first shot just barely misses Hanzo, zings past his head, and sticks into the wall. Causing pieces of metal and brick to spread out in all directions, that was centimeters away from being Hanzo’s skull.

You don't have time to waste on dwelling on the what-if's of the situation. Quickly you block Hanzo from the Widow with your body. Tell him to get down and keep moving. Use you as a shield as much as he can. The sniper’s bullets ding off of your armor and back at her. Why hasn't she relented? Perhaps it's because she is too far away for the bullets to reach her again, or perhaps she's good at dodging them. These shots are going to stay with you for a week or two, in the form of rich colored bruises. Every one feeling like a concentrated punch on your skin.

Abruptly, her shots stop. You’re hoping one of them finally reached her, came back at the woman like karma. However, it is more likely that she realized she was getting nowhere and decided to move on.

After you guys get to proper cover, you leave Hanzo to go and check out a spot that Morrison says the gauntlet may be in. You’re the closest ground agent to it. So it has become your responsibility to see if it is there. If you find it, you are then to take up the task of making it back to the drop ship with it. Hanzo will stay perched at the entrance keeping anymore Talon agents from entering the building.  

On the way there, you nearly run right into the Reaper. By the skin of your teeth, you manage to avoid his detection. Quickly you duck out of sight. Your heart races as you hide behind the corner praying that he won't come this way. Just pick a different route you big pain in my ass. No past encounter has ever gone over well with him, and you’ve only got so much luck to spare. It almost feels as if he’s got a vendetta against you. Maybe it's because now matter how hard he tries, you’re that one agent who just keeps getting away from him. You never die when he wants you to.

To your immense relief, Pharah starts unleashing some attention-commanding hell. Reaper quickly moves on from where you need to be, with the objective of pacifying the problems she is causing. Turns out luck is on your side, yet again. You continue in your pursuit to see if the gauntlet is where Morrison thinks it is. You have to climbs stairs… so many god damned stairs, before you finally make it to the floor you need to be on.

You get one of your guns ready, point it ahead of you, and enter the room cautiously. Sombra squats down on the floor tinkering with a suspicious looking package attached to a drone. You've never actually met this Talon agent before. However, you still recognize her from the photos you've seen of her in meetings.

“Alright, Sombra. That’s enough of that, thanks. Step away from the drone.”

Sombra smirks up at you, not at all looking like she’s worried about you being here. She casually stands up and places her hands onto her hips. She saunters towards you, dramatically placing one foot right in front of the other with each step. Every step she takes closer, you take two steps back. Your stance becoming more and more hostile each time. Sombra eyes you up and down, with a very curious look on her face. Sombra has been the only agent that Winston had specifically warned you about. He gave you several words of caution, stating that Sombra's abilities could potentially be detrimental for you.

This being your first one on one with her, you're nervous. You have a fundamental understanding of her talents, but you're still unsure of what to expect. You have certainly had to deal with the problems she's caused in past missions. All those times she’s made it impossible to leave buildings. Hacked doors, drop ships, and your comms. Made certain agents weapons useless. Made intel look real enough to lure teams into locations with nothing but an ambush awaiting them there. You’re not sure what would happen if she got close enough to touch you, and you don’t want to find out.

“That’s a neat suit of armor you got there. Nano bots? How cliche.”

She snaps her fingers and the drone suddenly takes flight. Oh no, no. That package has to be the gauntlet, and you can't be the agent that just let it get away. You point your gun at the drone and fire off several shots. With your full concentration, each hit their target and the drone starts to fall back to the ground. Sputtering, smoking and broken into pieces. As you try and refocus your attention back on Sombra, you find that she has disappeared. You know about this trick. Bad, very very bad. Panic churns your stomach, makes it hard to plan a viable plan of action.

The first thing you do is try back yourself into a corner. If can manage to corner yourself before she has a chance to get behind you, then you can fire blindly and hopefully scare her away. But it’s already too late. This time you’re all out of luck. You could swear your heart stops for a moment as you feel her nails rake across the bots on your hip.

She states mockingly, “Got you!”

The machines instantly turn on you. Retreat back under your skin and start to warm themselves up to dangerously high temperatures. The pain at first is moderate, but it doesn't take long for it to become unbearable. It’s the most physically painful thing you’ve ever felt in your life. The bots are starting to cook you from the inside out, and no matter how much you internally plead with them to stop they won’t listen to you.

They feel hostile. They no longer feel like your annoying second conscience, or your protectors. That's all gone within seconds. Your throat starts to close up on you, and your brain starts to black out the experience. Before you drop to your knees, you manage to comm Hanzo. You can’t remember hearing your own voice, much less what you said. All you can do is hope that you've got just a bit more luck left in the reserves.

~

When your voice buzzes in his ear, it’s as if the noise of the entire world gets canceled out for a few moments. You’re in trouble, and the amount of pain in your voice is inexplicably alarming. Without a single thought about it, he sprints to your location. As he’s climbing the wall to the last floor he was aware you were on, it’s clear that he is in the right area, because he can hear you wailing. He pulls himself over the edge, in through the window, and immediately nocks an arrow. The first thing he sees is Sombra looming over you. Watching as you writhe around in pain on the ground.

She looks to be waiting for someone. Evidenced by the tapping of her foot, and the look she shoots over her shoulder. When she looks back to you, the look on her face actually tells Hanzo that she’s horrified by the sight of you. If she doesn’t like what she’s done then why doesn't she fix it? Is it because it’s irreversible? When she sees Hanzo, she tries to run for a package off to the side next to a broken drone. He lets his ready arrow fly. It goes right through her calve and sticks into the wall, keeping her there. She screeches and falls down onto one of her knees, clutches her leg, and lets out a pathetic sob.

Hanzo nocks another arrow and points it right at her head,

“What did you do to her!”

Hanzo looks to you. Still writhing in pain, teeth bared. Tears running down your face. Blood has started to flow out of your nose, and it doesn't seem as if you can breathe.

Sombra tosses up her hands, “I’ll reverse it! I’ll reverse it!”

Sombra is about to tell him that he’ll need to bring you over to her, but he’s already bending over and giving the shaft of the arrow a strong tug. Only enough to remove it from the wall and not her leg, but it still causes her to scream none the less. He takes a hold of her arm and drags her over to you.

Sombra presses a long nail into your skin, breaking through it. A small line of blood drizzles down your arm. Hanzo nearly snatches her arm back up, so he can yank her away from you. Sombra hastily takes note of the hostility towards what she’s doing and quickly throws her free hand up,

“Relax! Relax! I have to be able to touch them to reverse it!”

The room falls heavy with silence as you stop wailing. It’s relieving but also eery. You haven’t passed out yet, from the looks of you it doesn't seem like you'll be conscious much longer. It looks to him like you are trying to gather your sanity back. With your eyes filtering wildly around the room. Only coming to a fixed point when you find him. Sombra looks up at Hanzo and holds both her hands up. Arms shaking from the pain her leg is in.

“There. All fixed, problem solved, you probably gonna want to get her some medical attention, yeah?”

“I don’t need you to tell me that.”

Hanzo is aware that she’s trying to get rid of him. Trying to distract him from something. Then he remembers the package that she was trying to go after. He looks at it fully understanding what is in there. Then resumes pointing a nocked arrow at her head.

“Leave.”

“B-but—“

“Do not make me repeat myself!”

Sombra struggles to get up on to her one good leg, as she still wants to keep her hands raised. She doesn’t know what kind of person she has in front of her. Doesn’t want to risk accidentally doing anything that might cause him to become trigger happy. She’s already made the mistake of hurting someone he obviously cares about. That's an automatic two strikes. Sombra’s a woman who knows when she’s skating on thin ice.

Still, it is in her nature to be cheeky. She eyes the package one more time and thinks on it. Then comes to a quick conclusion, which is, screw it. Reaper can cry to her about it all he wants later. She can always handle that. What’s holding up that man anyway? He’s the one who demanded she stay and babysit you. She could’ve been long gone already and with the gauntlet. All she is going to be focused on right now is getting out of here with her head in tact. Next on the agenda? Getting her hands on some pain meds as soon as possible. She hobbles away, taking her leave as fast as she possibly can.

Hanzo watches has Sombra literally disappears as she goes through the doorway. That makes him nervous. But since she’s bleeding and loudly shuffling, she won’t be able to sneak up on him. So he puts the arrow back and hooks his bow back around his body. Then he quickly gets on the comm to let the team know,

“The gauntlet is exactly where you thought it was, Morrison. Though, you will have to come retrieve it yourself.”

Morrison, “What the hell are you talking about Shimada? Grab it, bring it back here.”

That's an order he won't be following. Hanzo's first priority is getting you to safety. If he’s both carrying you and the gauntlet, that’s going to make him the biggest possible target for attack. He won’t risk it. Doesn’t begin to care enough about the gauntlet to chance that you might get even more hurt as he’s getting you back to the drop ship. When Hanzo doesn't answer, Morrison starts going off in his ear. Hanzo barely hears him, couldn’t even bring himself to register what it is he’s going on about. Just a bunch of you better do this, you better do that nonsense. Maybe Hanzo’s not cut out for taking orders.

Even with blood still pouring from your nose, you are already trying to get yourself back up on your feet. Hanzo bends over to try and scoop you up, but you try and wave him away. He grabs a hold of your arm and throws it over his shoulder,

“You are going to let me help you.”

He hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you in close to his side. Your breath is shallow and raspy; it sounds like breathing is a painful task. Your head falls against his chest as you start to sob. You’re in so much pain and feel as if all of the muscle strength has been drained from your body. How are you supposed to go anywhere feeling like this?

“I’m so sorry…”

“For what? Don’t be ridiculous; let’s get you to the doctor.”

Hanzo is about to pick you up and carry you. This time you were going to let him. But then something catches his eye, something terribly awful. Black smoke starts the flitter over the edge of the window he had arrived in. Quickly accompanied by two clawed gloved hands grasping at the sides. You see it too and quickly drop out of his grasp to grab a hold of the pistol you had dropped during your turmoil. You may be exhausted and in pain, but you have no choice but to muster up some more energy and strength.

Hanzo scoffs as he follows after you, helping you get back up by grabbing a hold of your waist.

“You’ve got three others you don’t need that one.”

Your voice is barely audible. A terribly scratchy and breathy sounding rasp, “With him we’ll need all we have.”

As Hanzo is securing your arm back over his shoulder, you point your gun at the open window and fire right as the Reaper starts to pull himself through. The shot lands dead center in his chest and makes him falter long enough for the two of you to get a decent head start. Hanzo tries to comm for back up. Everybody is busy dealing with their own big problems. Several promises are made to be there as soon as possible. While Morrison is still harping about gauntlet. You get a newfound rush of adrenaline and unhook yourself from Hanzo. You both can run much faster if you’re not latched onto him.

Unfortunately, when your luck ran out, it ran dry as a bone. Trying to go back the way you came is no good. There is a gang of Talon agents that are starting to swarm the area. All crowding around the last known spot of the gauntlet. Because of this, you’ll have to take a longer route to get back to the drop ship. You look behind you, actually expecting the Reaper to have given up the chase. If the gauntlet is back there, then what reason does he have to keep coming after you?

But he hasn’t stopped his pursuit. He’s still hot your trail, ghosting after you at an alarming speed. What could either of you have that he would still want? But then again Reaper’s motivations have always been shaky. Even with clear motivation sitting on the floor back in that room, it would seem that his own personal vendettas' are getting the best of him.

You sprint into what looks to be a grand lobby. The place where business men and woman alike used to come and chat with coworkers, check in for work, then take elevators up to higher floors. It looks like at some point in its life it used to be shiny and clean cut. Now it's just a dusty shell with high walls made of glass and run down counters. The ceiling is made of intricate rafters, almost looking to be an art piece. Clearly made for style, more than structure. Hanzo shoves you behind one of these counters and demands,

“Hide.”

Hanzo disappears up one of the walls, no doubt getting to a higher advantage. You do as you’re told, ducking under one of the counters with your gun clutched in your hand. You can feel the bots poking at the underside of your skin, but the mere slight touch of them feels excruciating. You beg and beg and beg them not to reappear. If they do, you’re sure you’ll pass out. That's the last thing you need right now. You refuse to become any more of a burden in this situation.

You didn’t hear the Reaper enter the room, not until he started talking.

“I’m here to collect your debt number 1013. I know all about your petty thievery and jail break. You owe Talon a lot, and it’s time to pay up.”

So he’s after you. Guilt wells up in your chest, and you temporarily contemplate giving yourself up. But you know that Hanzo would never just let the Reaper take you away, and that wouldn’t make the situation any better. Might end up getting Hanzo severely hurt or killed, and you couldn’t live with that. You choose to stay still and stay silent. If he doesn't think you guys are in here, maybe he’ll leave. Of course, Reaper is no fool, and he won't be leaving.

It’s as if he can smell you guys. Maybe he can just sense you. Regardless, he hovers in the room waiting to hear any sort of noise that will lead him to either one of you. Then he stops using his senses and starts using his common sense. He’s back to his solid form for the moment, and you can hear his heavy boots colliding with the floor. Heavy ominous steps that are headed your way. You’re starting to feel like one of those characters in a horror movie, hiding from the monster who is inevitably going to murder you. You know how those scenes play out, nobody survives.

Your body sways as you try to get yourself prepared to fight. Your equilibrium lost to fatigue and a sore body. An arrow pierces through the air and lands right into Reapers neck. He grunts and curses. He is so close that he falls forward on the counter top with a loud thump. Another arrow flies and nearly hits him in the exact same spot. Reaper whips around and rips the arrows from his own body without any hesitation or care.

“You don’t have to feel left out, brother killer. You can come along too, having the both of you around would provide sound… motivation to be obedient.”

Hanzo’s response is yet another arrow, and this one plants right into the back of his skull. This time coming from a completely different corner of the room. Reaper drops to his knees, reaches back, and removes the arrow with the same reckless abandon he had with the others. A sickening cracking noise accompanies the action, making your stomach turn in on itself. You look around the corner of the desk in time to see Reapers whole body vibrate and momentarily turn into a dark plume of smoke before it all collides back together again, recreating his form.

Reaper gets his sights on Hanzo. You can see it in his stance, the way he becomes suddenly alert and stiff. Two tendrils' shoot up towards the ceiling. One wraps around the beam and squeezes it 'til it breaks. While the other wraps around Hanzo's ankle to keep him from bolting away. Hanzo plummets to the ground, landing harshly on his back with a pained grunt. You don't even think about your actions. You ready a gun, point it at the Reapers back, and fire. Blood briefly spurts out of the front of his chest for each shot that lands. You shoot until he has no choice but to let go of Hanzo in order to deal with you.

You reach for a couple grenades, with the full intentions of sending them both Reaper's way. You don't yell for Hanzo to take cover, but rather demand it in a whisper into the comm. Hanzo takes the command without hesitation and runs for cover. You swiftly throw the grenades, both live, as they leave your hand and duck back behind the counter.

Both of them go off, and they are painfully loud. In your haste, you had forgotten to cover your ears. Causing your ears to ring, as tons of glass shatters against the floor. Making the ringing feel like a wave of dizziness and searing pain in your head. The promise of a debilitating migraine tickles at the base of your skull. You fall forward onto your hands on knees, gritting your teeth, trying to get your rational thinking back into gear again. Hanzo is desperately trying to warn you about something in your ear but you just can’t register it.

By the time you can finally hear him it’s far too late, “Get out of there! Run! Go! He’s coming for you!” He shouts your name so loud, you can hear him from across the room, “What are you doing! Move!”

You hop up onto your feet, try to slide over the top of the counter. But the Reaper is already there, ready for you. He wraps a tendril of smoke around your body and tugs your towards his person. And then hurls you towards Hanzo. Uses your whole body as a weapon against him.

You plummet into him sideways. You can hear a couple of his ribs crack from the impact. Despite the pain, Hanzo still catches you, holds you as you both hit the ground hard. You hit so hard that your right arm dislocates out of your shoulder. Glass crinkles and cracks under your collective weight. Hanzo grabs you by that same arm, not knowing that you’re hurt and rolls you off of him. Your cry from the pain is only brief, but it still startles him to the point of making him pause.

You quickly give him reassurance, “I’m okay! Just focus! Focus!”

Hanzo helps you back up onto your feet as he is doing the same. Hanzo is about to unleash the dragons, but if the Reaper is ready for them he just might escape their wrath. So you distract him with several more guns shots right in his face. They are so concentrated that they blast away nearly half of his mask. At first, he falls back, his whole body twisting away from you. Then he whips back around to face you. All of his attention and rage focused on you and you alone. For a moment it's like it's just him, you, and your imminent death.

Then you make your true fatal mistake. You couldn't help it, but the sight of Reapers face is… shocking to say the very least. His skin is gray and rotted, yellow teeth exposed where his cheeks should be covering them. His eyes cloudy but still so piercing. You had always speculated that there was a reason for the mask. But it had always been a possibility that he was just protecting his identity. You just hadn't expected him to look like the literal living dead.

His appearance isn't from your shots either. Bullet holes in his forehead and cheeks all healing before your eyes, and he still looks like that.

The shock is clearly painted on your face. Might as well be a big glowing sign with flashing lights and neon colors, and Reaper loathes it. The next tentacle that reaches out for you has no intention of keeping you alive. Suddenly, the Reaper forgets about all of his plans that he had for you. He’s feeling so much hatred for that look. It’s racing through his system, unstoppable heat that carries no rational thought. All he wants to do is permanently remove it from his sight, never wants it to be seen again.

As you start to try and back away, you hear Hanzo summon the dragons. The room suddenly drops immensely in temperature, and your breath turns into plums of ice. The tendril of smoke that is rocketing towards you scoops up a large dagger-like shard of glass from the ground, and then hurls it towards you. The bots react in kind and don’t give you a choice in the matter. They calculate where the shard is going to hit and pull themselves from your chest first. Just barely shielding you in time as the pointy end of the glass careens in between your ribs and shatters.

The bots have no control over where the pieces ricochet. Nothing about their trajectory is planned or coordinated. A piece of the glass careens towards Hanzo’s throat as the dragons are turning Reaper into a living statue. His wraith-like form and tendrils stand frozen in a state of perpetual motion. The dragons settle in on either side of the room, ensuring that the climate stays cold enough to keep the Reaper at bay. All in the same moment the shard of glass slices open the side of Hanzo’s throat.

Your world suddenly feels as if it’s made of mud. The air too thick to breathe, too heavy to move through quickly. A sickening amount of blood spurts from his neck. So hot as it hits your face, neck, and arm. You immediately comm Angela. Your voice muffled to your own ears, sounding as if you're talking under water. She’s close? She’s on her way? You can barely hear her. Your ears are too flooded with the sound of your own heartbeat, too damaged from the explosions.

Before Hanzo falls to the ground, he finishes what he started. Aims a scatter of arrows towards the ceiling. When he lets it off it shatters Reaper into dozens of pieces. Breaks off his head. It hits the hard floor and shatters into even more smaller segments.

You get to Hanzo’s side as quick as you can. Help him lay back onto the ground and rip the scarf out of his hair. You tie it around his neck so tightly that he can barely breathe. What else is there to do? It’s either air or blood flow. On top of the scarf your apply your own pressure with your hand. You’ve only got one good one, the other is lying unless, limp at your side. Everything in the vicinity is messy with his blood. The golden scarf already stained a deep red. It’s slippery and hard to get a proper grip, but you keep trying anyway.

Hanzo is hyperventilating. His chest heaving up and down rapidly. Never able to get a proper intake of breath. He clutches onto your wrist. All the heat his skin usually carries gone, now replaced by cold and clammy. Hanzo tries to say something, but it comes out strangled and wordless. The sound of it tears you up from heart to gut, tears brim in your water line. Do not start crying right now, do not be that selfish.

“Hanzo just focus on breathing-“ Your voice cracks and you have to take in a deep breathe, “Angela will be here soon… just stick with me, please.”

You get closer to his face and whisper with conviction, “You are so strong, and I love you so much. You can survive this.”

Genji shows up first, followed shortly by Angela. You can hear the sound of Peacekeeper of in the distance, but not too far away. Genji removes your hands, stating that he can hold the pressure better. You fall back onto your butt and bring your arm up to your face. Wiping away tears. When had you started crying?

Angela wastes no time giving Genji instructions and commands. Your attention is torn away for a brief moment when the dragons let off a tragic whine. You look behind you to see them slowly fading. Like plums of shiny glitter and ice dissipating into the air. Not at all the normal procedure for their departure.

You whisper, “Please don’t go.”

They’ve faded away completely before you can even get the last syllable out. The room starts to revert back to his normal temperature. Your head spins and your vision starts to become shaky. You've broken down, completely lost it. All of your composure and will lost to anguish. The last thing you can remember is Angela demanding Genji carry Hanzo and a familiar blurred sight of a cowboy hat and a red serape.

~

Angela’s been in this profession for what feels like her whole life. And no matter how many times she relays bad news, it never gets easier. It shouldn't be shocking that people as strong as you or as poised as Genji would break down in the face of uncertainty. She's seen it dozens of times before. People that she never thought she'd see break down into tears of helplessness; falling apart when she can't assure them that the one that they love and care about will pull through. And yet it is shocking and it hurts, just as bad as all the other times.

Unfortunately, right now, that's the case. All she can do is monitor Hanzo and hope. And having to be reduced down to hoping for the best sucks. She knows it, everyone in this room knows it. There’s only one thing to her that feels worse than hoping, and that's false hope. She has only ever given that once in her career and that was one of the worst mistakes she had ever made.

So no matter how much it breaks her heart to see Genji and you so distraught, she has no other words of assurance. No matter how many “Well possibly’s” or “I feel” or “I think’s” she’s got sitting on the tip of her tongue. She simply doesn't know with out a doubt if Hanzo is ever going to wake up again.

All she has is that dreaded line, “There’s just nothing else I can do right now… I’m so sorry.”

There are numerous things about her infirmary right now that usually, she wouldn't tolerate. The number of people. How huddled they are to the bed where Hanzo lies. And that damn dog…. She shakes her head. Get’s rid of the mini rant about the unsanitary nature of animals. Animals have proven to be helpful for patients recovery, so she’ll let it slide. Besides, she couldn't pry the pup from under your arm anyway. The poor creature taking the brunt of the tears and silent sobs. Your face buried into her stomach while she's curled up next to Hanzo’s waist on the hospital bed.

Genji sits on the other side of Hanzo. Slumped in a chair. One bouncing leg crossed over the other. Arms crossed, fists clenched near his biceps. He hasn't removed his visor and won’t. Jesse’s arm gently laid across his shoulder, gliding a comforting hand up and down his arm. Genji’s dragon is curled up next to Hanzo as well but they’re restless. Their tail lifting up and slamming back down onto the bed over and over. Pat… pat… pat.. pat…

You are not without your own comforter. Hana rubs your back, grazes her nails along your shoulders. All while saying soft toned words of encouragement and… hope. You really should be in a hospital bed as well. You’ve got your own amalgamation of injuries that you need to be recovering from. Including something else that Angela couldn’t even bear to bring up right now. She’s breaking all kinds of ethical codes by keeping it to herself. But she’s the boss here, and the only consequences she’ll have to deal with are her own guilt.

Angela has to pull herself away. There are others she needs to attend to. She is not without help anymore. Has other seasoned war doctors and nurses at her command. But every patient in this infirmary is her responsibility. Hers to ensure they get the best medical care possible.

She sighs and says softly, “I’ll be back within the hour to check on him.” Before she takes her leave, she leans down and whispers into Hana’s ear, “If you can manage to get her into a bed I’d be grateful.”

Hana nods and returns the whisper, “I’ll do my best.”

You can't bring yourself to look at him anymore. Can't bear to look at his pale face or the bruised sections of skin. The amounts of tubes and breathing apparatuses working to help keep him alive. Guilt turns your heart into a solid piece of rock. No amount of rational thinking could help you convince yourself that this is not your fault. If he— you can't even finish the thought without a sob breaking the concentration required to complete it. If you manage to be gifted with a reprieve from this horrible nightmare you've found yourself in, you'll never willingly enter into another situation that would warrant this kind of outcome again. There's no objective, no object in the world, valuable or important enough to make this worth it.

#hanzo shimada x reader #hanzo shimada #ovw #poutypanic writes #i wanna just go ahead an issue a apology to august cause girl i kno u aint gonna be happy about this chapter #dont hate me friend #*hugs*

[liminalchasm]

i really wanna make more content for team talon & widow & sombra? especially widow i wanna dig into what she's got going on mentally and who she is and figure out more about her personality. since she's got some good content lately. and i love sombra to pieces and i wanna explore her, too.

i'm a little nervous about writing girls tho because like... i don't wanna be the skeezy dude who writes about seksy tiddy ladies. but that's probably not a realistic anxiety because my biggest wish for widow is 'less sexy dead sniper, more rich powerful and conflicted, and also she's genderfluid and sombra is agender'

[rupeecoloredhair-archive]

Muscle Memory

Read on Ao3 || Support me on ko-fi || Commissons

I like to think that Widow isn't that far gone as the others think. All she needs is a little push and I can't help but wonder if perhaps Amélie still loves to dance :)

  Memories were rare. When they did come, they were snippets. Flashes of colors and shapes, sometimes voices, never anything substantial.

She never dwelled on them as they were distractions. Talon scientists said that they were a small side effect to her rigorous training and that they should go away as time went on.

“Focus, Widowmaker.” Reaper's gravelly voice snapped Widow away from the colors. One shot, one kill, no thoughts needed.

“I am,” she answered harsher than she had meant to but that doesn’t matter. Effortlessly, she scoped in on the straggling targets and picked them off so Reaper could focus on his own fight.

The colors came back, swimming in the back of her mind. As much as she tried to not focus on it, they kept creeping back. More picks, silent kills, Reaper motioned for her to move in. Her grapple locked on to the next building and she flew across the gap gracefully, landing with almost no sound. She followed Reaper a few paces behind as he moved forward with other Talon agents. Her eyes scanned the roofs for an enemy sniper but there were none to be found.

She set up above the group. Sombra was absent for this mission so they had to go through the hard way. Reaper stepped aside as some of the agents began to batter the door down. Lying flat, she scoped in on the door. One, two, the third one cracked the door and Reaper went through. It took less than a minute before the doors opened and Talon went through.

The colors again. They were warm, familiar. Widow scowled and activated her visor. A miss. She saw Reaper glance at her from the fight as she fired again. The colors were obscuring her targets but she still shot well. Just not well enough.

The fight did not last long, it wasn’t meant to. Holstering her gun she jumped down to join the team as the dropship lowered. The agents were all chattering about the fight, a dull noise that rang in her ears. She walked to her usual spot in the back of the ship when someone grabbed her arm and pulled her aside. Reaper.

“What was that, Widow?” He growled. “You were off all mission.”

“It was nothing,” she snapped.

“Something threw off your aim, Widow, what was it?”

“A smudge on my scope,” she lied, wanting Reaper to drop the subject. “An easy fix, I’ll clean it before the next mission.” She could tell Reaper didn’t believe her. The state he was in, his emotions showed easily. The edges of his body trailed into nothingness, wisps of smoke that showed aggravation. Still, he dropped it. Walking off to leave Widow to find a seat as the shuttle took off, she saw him glance at her again before he left to tell HQ they were successful.

Gun next to her, Widow let the din of chatter echo in her head. The colors were gone but something was still there. It kept dragging the colors back, forcing her to think on things she didn’t know. She barely noticed when they landed, so stuck in her own head she didn’t register that the others were getting up to leave. She followed quickly, ignoring everyone as she usually did.

Her room was quiet and what she needed. Familiarity. Things she knew. Placing her gun on the desk, Widow sat in the chair. Cleaning her gun after every mission was something of a routine that she could do through memory alone now.

She let the colors come back as she worked, knowing from the past that it was better to let them come and go on their own than to push them away. So she worked through memory as the colors tugged at her mind. Deep browns and a bright red, rich colors that darkened the room. A bright white shone through it all, illuminating wherever it touched.

Widow began to hum. The light followed the slow rhythm. Her hands stilled on their work as Widow continued to hum. She closed her eyes and watched the colors. She felt ribbon on her skin, almost cradling her. It felt familiar. Her feet felt weightless, moving over nothing. The song continued, slow and graceful. The lights followed her feet, around and around.

Amélie was a dancer. Amélie loved feeling the stage beneath her feet. Dances rehearsed over hours and days and weeks coming to light under the stage lights. Her costumes fit so gracefully, floating with her across the stage. Music filled her ears with a warm intimacy that came with hearing it over and over again, she’d never forget these songs. Her songs. The crowd hushed into a million eyes like stars that watched her every move. She moved like water, passionate yet smooth no one move too sharp. Fluid. It felt as it the music was coming from her arms as she spread them, legs carrying her over the stage. Weightless.

Widowmaker opened her eyes with a start. She was at Talon. She stood in the middle of her room, no music, no lights, no stage, no Amélie. Her arms were over her head, she pulled them back to her. She lowered herself from her toes and slowly moved to her chair.

Widow had never learned to dance.

#overwatch #widowmaker #amelie lacroix #reaper #talon #fic #mine #please reblog if you like plzzzzzzzzzzzzz

[somblog]

Spiderbyte thotz

I would ship Widow and Sombra but honestly I think Widowmaker is too classy for Sombra. Like, Sombra is a genius hacker but she grew up a poor orphan and probably treats anything high cultured as a stupid diversion for the rich. She was also a gangster before she joined Talon so her behavior I see as a little anti-social. Widow, meanwhile, as a high level ballet dancer, probably has a lot of regard for culture and art. She's also probably spent hella time filandering with wealthy patrons of the arts and meeting powerful UN officials because of her husband's position in Overwatch. So when I think of how they would seduce each other and come to be together, considering the worlds they come from, it produces some interesting problems. But as a ship they're both power players and such great villainesses it would be like an unholy alliance.

[asynca]

Respect Your Leader - Mercy (POV) x the whole team - SFW

Mercy is sick of her team bickering, and decides to assume control of them. Crack humour, with implied F/F/F/F/F.

Speed prompt, written in 120 minutes.

[AO3] | [Fanfiction.net]

I’d hardly collected all my medical supplies and disembarked from the ship, and already I could hear that my ‘team’ were at it. Not this again, I thought, sighing at length. I’d just about had it with all their senseless bickering.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Tracer didn’t sound at all happy about discovering who else had been assigned to our mission. “I thought spiders preferred dark and damp environments. You know, like toilets.”

Widowmaker—who was actually keeping mostly to herself today, I thought—looked equally as unimpressed to be grouped up with Tracer. “I wouldn’t expect you to know anything about ‘damp’,” she fired right back, “You haven’t been near anything wet in your entire life.”

A third voice—Pharah, thankfully, she was mostly far less petty than those two—interrupted their little tiff. “Can we please focus?” she asked. “Save the childish bickering for after we’ve completed the objective.”

Widowmaker did not take well to that wording. “Sorry, ‘childish’?” Her voice was dry as a bone. “Me, or the person who spent the entire last objective throwing a tantrum and refusing to use comms because her mother politely suggested she should wait for the rest of the team before drawing fire?”

Pharah stiffened. “She wasn’t there, she didn’t know what I was planning. Her advice was just distracting me, that’s all.”

Widow was unmoved. “The highlight was when your voice cracked as you said, ‘You never trust me with anything, Mother,’ before switching off your headset.”

The vein in Pharah’s forehead popped out. “It was a strictly business decision. I was trying to concentrate.”

Widowmaker scoffed. “Will you make a business decision to throw a tantrum and switch off comms if someone tells you to stop running a one man team on this mission, too?” she asked. “Perhaps it’s too much of an adjustment to go back to taking orders when you were giving them for so long, Amari? Is that it?”

Pharah looked dangerously close to just flat out decking Widowmaker. “Well, it’s a moot point, Lacroix, because I’m leading this mission, so everyone will be following my orders. Including you.”

“Well, you’re not going to get very far if you don’t listen to the advice of your sniper this time,” Widowmaker told her, taking a casual, inflammatory step towards Pharah. “Just saying.”

“Actually,” that was Tracer’s primmest voice, and she took the opportunity to blink in between Widowmaker and Pharah and jab Widowmaker’s chest with the point of a finger, “I’m the scout, and we’ve run loads of successful missions before without a sniper. We don’t need one, and if you’re going to be such a twat about everything, you can just stay on the damn ship.”

Widowmaker acted as if Tracer hadn’t even spoken, her eyes still on Pharah. “Are you going to switch of comms in this mission, too, Amari?” She paused theatrically and feigned concern. “Wait a minute, should I not call you that? ‘Amari’? I don’t want people confused that I’m talking about the actual Captain Amari. You know, the Amari who won all the medals and saved so many lives…” Another pause. “Not the Amari who is essentially just an over-militarised mall security guard who actually thinks she can run a one-man strike team and bursts into tears when mummy says she can’t.”

Beside me on the bridge, Zarya made a gruff noise. “Some team,” she commented in her charming accent, and then looked down at me, jerking her thumb behind us with her eyes twinkling. “You know, it’s not too late to just get back on the ship and go home.”

I laughed. I’d forgotten how much I liked her. “I don’t really think that’s an option,” I admitted, “although it’s tempting, given this lot.” I looked down by the hanger door; the three of them were about a moment away from tearing each other to pieces.

Oh, dear. Well, I couldn’t just let them murder each other before the mission had even started, could I? My Caduceus staff was nearly at 0%. Someone needed to take charge of this lot. I sighed; I supposed that would have to be me. Why was it always me?

“I’m going to need your help,” I told Zarya over my shoulder as I left the bridge to approach my ‘team’.

She chuckled, hoisting her absolutely enormous gun over one shoulder like it weighed nothing at all. “Understood.”

I don’t know what the rest of them were bickering about, but whatever it was, I called cheerfully over it, “Alright, that’s quite enough of that!”

They all paused for a second, looked at each other, and then all at once began to try and tell me what was wrong with each other. I wasn’t going to have it, so I held up a hand. “No, I don’t care,” I told them as pleasantly as I could. “I don’t care who did what. We’re a team, we’re going to act like one. And, if none of the actual soldiers is able to get along for five seconds and actually lead the mission, I’m going to.” I looked back over my shoulder. “That’s alright with you, Zarya, isn’t it?”

Leaning casually on her upright gun, Zarya chuckled and saluted me.

That’s what I liked to see! “Excellent,” I told her with a smile, and then turned back to the others.

Widowmaker looked even more unimpressed than she had when she and Tracer were at it. “What make you think you have the skill or the knowledge to—”

I talked over her. “That’s quite enough.”

Looking disgusted, tried again anyway. “What does a doctor think she’s doing by—”

I wasn’t going to argue with her. I put one gloved finger firmly over those bee-stung lips of hers. “I said that’s enough, Amélie,” I told her, and left my hand there for just a moment. “We’re a team. I’m leading the team. You won’t talk over me.”

Pharah, proving that despite the best training she sometimes could be baited to be a little immature, said dryly beside me, “What’s the matter, Widowmaker? Having trouble taking orders from someone?”

Privately, I actually found Pharah turning Widowmaker’s words back on her to be rather well-placed and I’d probably laugh about it with her later; now, though, I couldn’t. Everyone on the team needed to get the same treatment from me; favouritism wouldn’t do at all. “You too, Pharah,” I said pleasantly. “Keep your mouth shut unless it’s to do with the mission.”

I don’t think she’d expected that—we were friends, after all. She looked at me with genuine surprise for a moment but then, understanding my methods, stood to attention, saluted, and looked straight past me with military-level discipline.

Huh. I always did like it when she was like this. Especially when she was wearing uniform; very appealing.

Tracer, looking between Widowmaker and Pharah, made a decision to copy Pharah and stood to attention too, her chest all puffed out. It was perhaps the most adorable thing I’d ever seen, and it was nice to be able to give orders to someone who’d immediately take them. “Good girl,” I told her. She beamed.

Widowmaker practically gagged at it. “’Good girl’?” she repeated, sounding ill. “’Good girl?’ What are you running her, Doctor, is it a strike team, or is a pre-school for wayward—?”

Beside me, there was a heavy thump. We all jumped. Zarya had let her weapon fall to the ground and was approaching Widowmaker with long, heavy strides and a glum expression. “That’s enough from you,” she told Widowmaker. “I don’t know about France, but in Russia, we don’t play games. We respect our leader.” She only stopped when she was toe-to-toe with Widowmaker, looming over her and peering down at her. “So, show her some respect.”

Well, this was certainly an interesting turn of events. I decided not to interfere.

Widowmaker looked straight back up at her. “Or what? You’ll ‘crush me like big Siberian bear’?” she asked, rather rudely imitating Zarya’s accent.

Zarya wasn’t baited at all. “Or I’ll do whatever Mercy tells me to do to you,” she said calmly. “Because she’s the leader. Now,” she said, putting two huge hands on either one of Widowmaker’s shoulders. “Kneel. Show some respect to your leader.”

Widowmaker’s arrogant veneer faded somewhat. “W-What?”

Beside them, Pharah and Tracer glanced at each other, wide-eyed and tittering, and then smothered their amusement and hopped back to attention when I gave them a chastising look.

Zarya’s booming voice made us all jump. “I said kneel!” she said, and then forced Widowmaker to her knees.

Honestly, I think Widowmaker was too surprised to retaliate, because I can’t imagine she’d ordinarily allow herself to be treated like that. It was so ridiculously over the top—were they really like that in Russia?

“That’s better,” Zarya said far more moderately once Widowmaker was actually on her knees, “and if you get up, I will be the one to tell Talon that you are why we failed our mission, because you were unable to swallow your pride and engage in proper, efficient teamwork.”

With that, she gave Widowmaker one more look of warning, and then turned to walk past me to where she’d left her gun.

“Are this really how you do it in Russia?” I whispered to her on the way past.

She chuckled; a low and rich sound. “No,” she said simply, and then flashed me a white-teethed grin. “At least, not on the battlefield.”

My eyebrows shot up; oh, my. I wasn’t able to stop myself from laughing at little.  

It didn’t take long for Widowmaker’s transparent surprise to morph into deep displeasure. “This is ridiculous,” she hissed. “Is humiliating your teammates on the Overwatch charter? No wonder it was decommissioned. Talon never forces its agents to submit to tactics like this.”

Tracer was busy scoffing behind her. “They wouldn’t need to force you, I bet you happily kneel in front of loads of random people all the time,” she said, and then began to giggle at her own joke.

She stopped immediately when we all looked at her, though, panicking. “Oh, um, ‘silence’. Got it, Doc! Sorry!” she said, and then immediately knelt, too.

Since they were both kneeling, and since this was all far more interesting that I’d thought it would be, I looked up at the last soldier standing, so to speak: Pharah.

She looked down at me, confused. There were beads of sweat on her forehead.

I cleared my throat, and then smiled pointedly at her.

She finally realised what I meant. “Oh! Oh.” She knelt, too.

And, just like that, I had three previously very troublesome teammates silent, compliant, and kneeling in front of me.

Well, this had all turned out rather nicely! I almost wanted to take a seat here, sip tea, and admire my handiwork. Perhaps I should try my hand at leading more often?

There weren’t any seats, however, so I just walked a slow, leisurely circle around the three of them, appreciating the peaceful (alright, extremely tense) silence. It was nice to be able to hear myself think for once, and—if I’ll admit it—it was rather nice having such attractive teammates all doing exactly as I told them, even if it would be very unprofessional of me to say it aloud.

Unfortunately for me and my private enjoyment, Athena started a count-down, which meant my fun was over.

“Well, let’s get ready then, shall we?” I asked, motioning for them to stand.

“Oh, I’m allowed to stand up now?” Widowmaker asked me, her voice dripping with sarcasm, but she dropped the snark immediately when Zarya casually slammed the base of her weapon on the ground next to her and made her jump.

I smiled at Zarya. “After you,” I offered her as the door opened.

“No, no,” she said easily, insisting I exit before her, “after you, Leader.”

I laughed. Wasn’t she obliging! “Very well!” I told her, accepting her invitation. “I suppose if I draw fire, that just helps things for you, doesn’t it?”

With that, I led possibly the most subdued and compliant team I’d ever been in out on the battlefield and to a rather easy victory, and—not that I’d say so aloud!—I took some rather pleasant mental images back to my quarters that night.

#mercy #lesbians #LESBIAAANNNNSSS #well it's a genfic but there's implied gayness and nice gay imagery #my writing #overwatch

[sorayahigashikata]

Chapter 28: "MacGuffin's Bizarre Delivery Service"

#Paula reads SBR #Chapter 28 #HOORAY VIOLENCE #that poor bear though #WE HAVE DINOSAURS #DINOSAURS IN JOJO #I guess Diego counts as that sexy villain I kept asking for #KONO DIO DA #Steel Ball Run spoilers #Part 7 spoilers