#|| calling all agents of overwatch ! || { starter call }

[livesinthebalance]

Would anyone like anything from Raymond Reddington? Because I literally just wrote my friend a starter on discord that almost hit the Nitro character limit and–– 

He is apparently LOUD.

His bio blurb:

A RIDDLE WRAPPED UP IN A MYSTERY INSIDE AN ENIGMA IS HOW SOME MIGHT DESCRIBE RAYMOND REDDINGTON. OTHERS MIGHT REFER TO HIM AS A CONCIERGE OF CRIME, POSSESSING ALL THE INFORMATION, CONNECTIONS, AND ABILITY TO FACILITATE MOST ENDEAVORS LACKING LEGALITY––AND EVEN THE ONES HE DIDN'T AID ARE ON HIS RADAR. CURRENTLY, IT SUITS HIM TO BE ALIGNED WITH TALON, BUT THESE CIRCUMSTANCES ARE ALWAYS SUBJECT TO CHANGE. SELF-INTEREST AND ALL THAT.

[desertbled]

@warcost ❤️'d for a starter

[ 𝕎 ] —- - It had been a long time since Wolf had laid eyes on Ana Amari. Long enough, in fact, that he recalled her hair being salt and pepper, rather than the full grey he was looking at right now.

It wrenched his heart out a bit, reminiscing on those days. Back when they all agreed on something, held out hope. When they all fought for a purpose that seemed larger than life.

That was all dashed against the rocks, however, as things came crashing down. It was around the same time that Ana disappeared that Blackwatch split in two; some siding with Jack, the others with Gabriel. Wolf had quit completely at that point, fed up with the politics and shady business. But the damage had already been done, all of Overwatch, including Blackwatch, had been painted as criminals, and the HQ had gone down in flames.

It made Wolf feel a bit guilty at the time, splitting before the end to the organization; but he knew in his heart that it turned out for good. He faded back into the background after that, returning to his home in California, helping on his family's farm. Even despite the nightmares disrupting his sleep, it was mostly peaceful.

He felt conflicted, then, when Winston put out the call for all Overwatch agents to return. He had gone back to living a normal life, and now Winston wanted to turn everything upside down again? He had half a mind to say no, and yet... he couldn't. The idea of doing it all over again, doing it right this time, Wolf couldn't resist.

And that very decision had led him here, in front of one of his old mentors. He didn't know why, but it made him feel a bit boyish again, like the young man he was when they first met. If he had his hat on, he probably would have tipped it towards her. Instead, he slouched over a bit, lowering his gaze to meet hers.

〝Cap,〞he greeted, unable to shake the old title. 〝When they told me you were alive, I almost couldn't believe it.〞

[always-stay-in-arms-reach]

Happy ARMS’ Birthday! 

(Apparently people on Twitter have been calling it ARM5... love the creativity of this fandom...)

I’ll admit I’ve taken longer to get to this than intended, but better late than never; Here are some things I’d LOVE to see in a potential sequel!

1.) Story Mode - Extensive Character Info 

I think most if not all of the fandom can agree we need a proper story mode -- or at least SOME way to know more about the fighters! Five years into the games’ life, and we have little to no information on most agents’ families, upbringings, or even their real names! Even that aside, the Grand Prix was fun but definitely got too repetitive and unfulfilling after sometime. There was no information to see or new perspectives to witness no matter who you played aside from the unique gallery art additions at the end of each route. Show us some more of this great cast and great world! 

Remember when the Twitter used to give us lore too? I’d love to see them pick that back up as well. 

(We could still get this in a potential graphic novel... It isn’t too late to pursue it again... please nintendo...) 

2.) Diverse Cast

The game has a pretty interesting roster as is, but for a game that’s all about an international cast, there’s a LOT of cultures and heritages left out of it’s representation. It’s pretty sad, especially when compared to other games I’ve been into that do have more diverse casts. Take a look: 

Apex Legends:

VALORANT:

Overwatch (eh, I stopped playing years ago, but it fits the point I’m making here): 

Compared to ARMS: 

(And thank you to Google for all these images!)

ARMS not only has the smaller cast, but the least amount of variety when it comes to agents from other continents and who speak other languages. If I’m not mistaken, there’s no characters from polynesia or africa or the middle east, for starters. and coyle, max brass, springtron, spring man, ribbon girl, and byte and barq (im assuming) make up nearly half the cast of exclusively english-speakers! 

what about the other beautiful languages in our world? korean? thai? yoruba? filipino? portuguese? igbo? just to list a few that are missing among the many more! Would love to see a far more diverse cast in the future, even if it’s just adding onto the pre-existing characters! 

3.) Lyrical OST

The OST is absolutely bomb as is, but what about at least one lyrical song? (With more than 1-2 words in it, I mean! 2+ minutes of “Woah,” and, “Na na na,” sung over and over doesn’t count!) I was surprised they didn’t do at least one considering Ribbon Girl is an idol and her voice actress is a singer who does both original work and covers pretty frequently. Would love to hear her voice more. 

4.) Skins/Alternate Outfits 

We do have alternate recolors of base outfits, but we need actual skins! I would love to see the fighters in casualwear, or some of the outfits from official art incorporated into the game!

That’s all from me for today! Happy ARMSversary and here’s to a new age of ARMS announced soon (hopefully)!

[talesfromlissom]

Glory Of The Moon [Part II]

Summary: As the recall has been issued, new recruits start to flood into overwatch due to recommendations, from old and new allies. However, the newest recruit seems to have an interest in Hanzo, much to Jesse’s dislike.��

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

“I…(Y/N)...”

“Jess’?”

Silence.

“I..I’m sorry.” (Y/N) began. “I...I’ve been an asshole, I...It’s alright if you don’t forgive me for a while.”

“No no, darlin’, I’d never do that to you,.” Jesse began. “and...I should probably try to get along with Dallas, even if I don’t like ‘em one bit.”

(Y/N) shook their head, cracking a small smile.

“Wanna hug?”

“...yeah.”

“Alright, c’mere you big baby.”

“Hold up now-”

Jesse had said before practically falling into (Y/N)’s embrace.

They planted a kiss on his forehead after brushing his bangs back.

“You...think we should go get Hanzo?”

“Mh, yeah.” 

As (Y/N) and Jesse broke apart, (Y/N) came to the door.

“Where do you think he could be?” They asked.

“Ima guess he’s in that little ‘ol garden that Genji and Zenyatta built, he won’t ever admit it, but I think it's his favorite place to meditate.” 

“Heh, I don’t see why not.” (Y/N) began as the door slid open. “That place is beautiful.”

                                       ──•~❉+❉~•──

As the two entered the zen garden, Jesse gaped.

“Wow, Genji and Zenyatta sure pay attention to details…” Jesse muttered.

However, a hand was placed on his chest.

(Y/N)’s hand.

“Why do I smell eastern wolves?” (Y/N) asked.

Jesse’s eyes widened as he stepped past them.

“Actually, yeah..but...Dallas isn’t a eastern, he’s a west-”

Jesse paused, seeing the water bottle on the floor.

He sniffed at it, and reared his head back.

“Why in god's name is there knock-out drugs in this thing? Ain’t this water?” Jesse then gasped as he turned the bottle.

“Shit! These are Dallas’ goddamn initials!” 

“What! Jesse don’t start this again-”

“No, look! D.F.S. Dallas whatever his middle name is Starmonger! See? I told you!”

(Y/N) snatched the bottle from Jesse’s hand and examined it.

“Crap, this is Dallas’ bottle!” (Y/N) cried.

“See? I told you!” 

“Shut up, Jesse, Hanzo could be seriously hurt!”

“Sorry but-how are we gonna find him, we’re gonna change any minute now!” A pause. “God, I’m already startin’ to ache!”

“Listen to me, Jesse,” (Y/N) said, placing their hands on his shoulder. “We have to find Hanzo, werewolf form or not. I can hold off my form long enough to save him, but only if you can transform, cooperate and track him down. I’ll follow you. Alright?” 

“A-alright.”

“I’ll grab your serape so in case you find Hanzo first he doesn’t freak out, alright? I’ll be right back.”

(Y/N) practically darted out of the room and locked the doors to the Zen garden, only to bump into Bridgette along the way.

“(Y/N)? Why-”

“Bridgette warn Winston! Dallas has taken Hanzo captive and I think he plans to hurt him, please tell him that Mcree and I are the only people that can be close to Dallas, but to arrange a backup team in case me and Mcree attack anyone, got it?”

“You got it! Should I tell Dr.Ziegler as well!”

“Yes! Now, go, go!” 

                                                ──•~❉+❉~•──

His vision was less blurry as he came to consciousness again. 

He blinked rapidly, and finally came to full vision.

That’s when he gasped.

He was not in the garden, he was sure he wasn’t even in Gibraltar.

“Heya boss, he’s wakin’ up.”

Hanzo shook his head.

He attempted to stand, only to find that his hands had been chained to a pole driven into the ground.

He could easily break out of these, he called upon his-

“Looking for these?” 

Hanzo looked upwards, only to spy his dragons in two square cages.

Kenji, always the more energetic and determined of the bunch, was bashing her head against the walls.

Tomo, less energetic, but still ever loyal, was biting at the cages bars.

“How did you-”

“They came out of your tattoo of course,” Dallas chuckled, as he came into full view. “While I was putting those chains on you, they tried to protect you, but since you did not call upon them, they were weak, so we easily put them in these...dragon proof cages.” 

Hanzo narrowed his gaze.

“What do you want with me?”

“Well for starters, I want you in general.”

Hanzo scoffed.

“Why?”

“You're smart, think Hanzo, what has your precious (Y/N) told you about Alpha werewolves?”

Hanzo narrowed his gaze even further.

“They wish to expand their packs, and they are the only ones capable of passing on the lycin curse.”

“Very good, so you do listen to (Y/N),” Dallas then pouted. “But you didn’t listen to poor Jesse, oh no.” 

There was a deep chuckle that came from Dallas, as well as more chuckling from his other pack members.

Hanzo took this chance to look around the room.

Around him stood all sorts of people.

People with scars, people in wheelchairs, some children as young as ten years old.

Men, women, people young and old.

“You see, my pack is more on the diverse side,” Dallas preached. “I don’t just bite anyone.” 

Hanzo watched as Dallas made his ways down the steps.

“I find people with powerful minds, not just brute force,” He began, as he made his way towards him, the other pack members stepped out of the way. “People that have been hurt, cast out, told they were nothing. Well,I made them something.” 

Dallas grinned. 

“That’s why I knew that I had to make you a member of my pack. But those other pathetic excuses for werewolves were almost always around you.” 

“You dare too-”

“Ah ah ah,” Dallas began, putting his hand over Hanzo’s mouth. “Let me finish, fledgling.”

Hanzo resisted the urge to spit in Dallas’ face. 

“So I found things out, I knew automatically (Y/N) was an alpha, and if they caught even a wind of me wanting to hurt you, then I’d be dead meat.” A pause. “So I turned to the beta instead. I knew that if I made your cute little Jesse dislike me, it would travel back to (Y/N), and they would fight.” 

He removed his hand from Hanzo’s mouth.

“I played all my cards right, and soon you were right where I wanted you,” Dallas chuckled. “I was surprised that you even believed half of the shit I said, and took a drink from me.”

Hanzo growled.

“You won’t gain anything from this.” Hanzo snapped. “Absolutely nothing.” 

“I have lots to gain from this, Hanzo.” Dallas replied. “Lots. I mean, a Shimada under my command. The infamous Doom fist would cower before me.”

“(Y/N) and Jesse will come for me, and put an end to your sickening games.” Hanzo said, struggling against his bonds. 

“Oh please, will they?” Dallas stated. “By the time they figure out where you are, they’ll already have turned.” Dallas then chuckled, sending a chill down Hanzo’s back. “And if I play my cards right, you will be as well.” 

“You think that I’d ever join you? Pathetic.” 

Dallas rolled his eyes.

“Oh Hanzo,” Dallas jeered, grasping Hanzo’s chin and pulling him close. “I never said I was giving you a choice.” 

                                                 ──•~❉+❉~•──

“Can someone tell me why it sounds like there’s a dog panting into your communicator?” Angela’s voice asked.

(Y/N) scoffed.

“Don’t call Jess’ a dog, that’s rude.” 

(Y/N) managed to say before they turned back to the (panting) and now transformed Jesse.

The thing about Jesse was that, unlike (Y/N), who turned into a Crinos werewolf type, like most alphas, Jesse was a hispo type. 

The problem was, the stronger the werewolf type, the less human you were.

Making (Y/N) the worst possible person to go on this rescue mission.

But (Y/N) was the only person powerful enough to take down Dallas.

And man, when (Y/N) saw him, they were going to beat the crap out of him. 

The two came to a halt as Jesse sniffed at the ground, and let out a large howl.

In which, (Y/N) grabbed his muzzle.

“Quiet! They’ll hear us!” They hissed as Jesse whined and pulled his head away.

(Y/N) turned, and spotted an old, clearly abandoned factory.

“Angela, I think we found them,” (Y/N) said. “It's at an old factory. Just north of the city.” 

“Alright, I’ll tell Winston to send a drop ship-”

“No. You have to send a small team for backup, make sure they all have silver bullets, or they won’t harm anyone in this pack. And only send them in when I tell you too.”

“But (Y/N)-”

“Please Angela, Hanzo’s...normal...life is at stake here.” 

Silence.

“Alright...I trust you.”

“Thank you, Agent (Y/N) signing off. 

With that, (Y/N) turned off their communicator.

“You think you can get close enough without anyone noticing?”

“Maybe.” Jesse replied, his voice coming out distorted.

Jesse didn’t speak much while in his werewolf form, mainly because of how his vocal cords were for wolves, not for humans. 

(Y/N) watched as Jesse crept down the hill and onto the broken road and towards the factory.

(Y/N) went to the ground, looking through the broken windows.

Strangely enough, there were no guards, and yet, there was plenty of cars. 

They must’ve used the cars to mask their scents. 

(Y/N) scoffed.

This Dallas guy was a foolish alpha, probably new to it, (Y/N) figured as they slid down the hill.

Crouched low to the ground, (Y/N) met up with Jesse and nodded at them, the sign of it being all clear.

Slowly the two came to the back door and pushed it open, with a creak.

(Y/N) tensed.

“Hopefully, nobody heard that.” They muttered to Jesse as the two walked down the hall.

Eventually, they both came to the actual factory section of the place.

It seemed that this factory hadn’t been used for years.

The perfect hideout, (Y/N) would’ve said, if they hadn’t spotted two guards at a door near the end of the hall.

However, the two guards then paused, and walked off.

The two steadily crept towards the door, and slowly pushed it open.

(Y/N)’s mouth dropped.

“I’ve...I’ve never seen so many werewolves before.” They muttered as Jesse let out a whine.

“Don’t worry, I can take them.” (Y/N) responded as they and Jesse crept behind a stack of barrels. 

(Y/N) slowly peaked their head above the barrels.

“There he is.” (Y/N) muttered, as they saw Hanzo in the middle of the mix. “But how are we gonna get to him?”

“The full moon won’t be covered by the clouds much longer.” Dallas began, peaking (Y/N)’s interest. “And soon, you’ll be one of us.”

(Y/N) almost growled and leap directly into the fray, but they kept their composure, for now.

“He wants to turn Hanzo.” Jesse muttered.

“Yeah, that’s why we need to get him out of there, fast.”

(Y/N) rolled over to the other set of crates, closer to-wait a second.

(Y/N) looked up, hearing a chirping noise.

They  had to cover your mouth to keep from gasping. 

(Y/N) spotted Kenji and Tomo in cages, hung on the ceiling. 

“Jesse, how did he-”

“However, we don’t want to interrupt the main event, do we?” 

Dallas grinned before snapping his fingers.

With that, the werewolves in the room scattered, filling out the room.

Soon, silence.

“I can smell you (Y/N), and Jesse’s scent is even stronger when he’s in his werewolf form.” 

(Y/N) scoffed before coming out behind the barrels.

“Let him go Dallas, and I won’t hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” Dallas smiled, putting his hand in his pocket. “You wouldn’t dare.”

(Y/N) widened their stance, and balled their hands into fists.

“Try me.” 

“Oh, well, I guess I’ll have to use this little guy.” With that, Dallas pulled the purple flower from his pocket holding it into the air.

With that, (Y/N) could see the sweat forming on Dallas’ face.

“S-see? Now we’re both in trouble.” Dallas mustered out stepping towards them.

(Y/N) only had caught a small whiff of that flower before sweat formed on your brow as well.

“Where-where did you...get...wolfs bane…?” (Y/N) panted, falling to their knees.

They  watched as Dallas managed to laugh at them, before falling onto his hands and knees as well.

“I’ve..got...friends…” 

Jesse looked up into the sky, and there it was, the full moon shining directly into the room.

“J-Jesse...get...get Hanzo out of here…” (Y/N) said, starting to breathe heavily. “Please…”

“But-”

“Now-!” (Y/N) growled, and yet their voice was so much deeper. 

Jesse ran over to Hanzo, pulling at the chains with his teeth and claws. 

“Jesse? Is that you?” Hanzo asked.

Jesse paused for a moment, then simply nodded his head. 

“Jesse, where are the others? Are they safe?” 

Another pause.

“Yes.” Jesse said, as the chains fell to the floor. 

“Hurry.” Jesse stated, as he pushed Hanzo out of the room.

However, two howls filled the room and the two men froze on the spot.

They recognized one, sure, but the other? 

Soon, multiple howls filled the air, too many for comfort.

“Go! They have a backup team waiting for us!” Jesse mustered out as the two rushed out the door. 

However, the two were met by wolves of all shapes and sizes in their way. 

“Right!” 

Jesse and Hanzo sprinted down the hall to the right, the large group of werewolves on their tail.

                                          ──•~❉+❉~•──

(Y/N) looked at them self in the small puddle on the floor.

(Y/N) hadn’t seen their reflection in a while.

They were still a large 7ft, Crinos werewolf.

Their fur was still the same color as their hair.

The necklaces Jesse and Hanzo gave them was still around their neck.

(Y/N)’s eyes were now a beady purple.

A growl filled their ears, as they turned to Dallas.

He was just like you, bright purple eyes, 7ft, except brown fur.

However, Dallas’ claws were much larger than yours.

But that made up for (Y/N)’s strength and strong bite.

Before (Y/N) even had time to think, Dallas tackled them to the ground, and (Y/N) knew that if Dallas managed to defeat them, not only would he turn Hanzo into a werewolf.

But he’d become the alpha of (Y/N)’s pack as well, which meant he’d keep Jesse and Hanzo away from you.

So, with that thought in mind, (Y/N) brought forth all their power to defeat this traitor.

                                               ──•~❉+❉~•──

“How long will it take for these things to catch up to us, Jesse?” 

A grunt was heard from Jesse, who ran alongside Hanzo. 

“Oh right, you’re a wolf, you can’t talk-”

“I can talk!” Jesse replied. “And for the record-”

“Door-!”

Jesse slammed face first into the door, letting out a yelp.

Hanzo grabbed Jesse by the serape and pulled him through the doorway. 

“How long are these hallways!” Jesse cried, still rubbing at his nose.

“In here! Quickly!” 

With that, the two dove into the small storage room and behind the boxes.

There was silence at first, however, the scratching of claws on the floor filled their ears, as well as the soon clicking of said claws on the tile floor. 

“Jesse,” Hanzo hissed. “What do we do?”

Jesse shook his head.

“Jesse?”

Again, more shaking and growling from Jesse.

“Jesse-”

That’s when Jesse began to howl. 

Soon, bone cracking and more howling and growling was filling Hanzo’s ears.

He heard the werewolves beginning to gather at the door, based on the amount of claws tapping on the tiles.

“Jesse, Jesse stop-! Jesse your drawing, attention too-! Jess-!”

That’s when the howling turned more humane sounding, and as Hanzo watched as the great beast before him shrunk down to a shivering, sweaty, and naked man. 

Gasps and sputters came from Jesse as Hanzo slowly reached a hand out.

“Is it...morning already?” Hanzo asked.

Jesse coughed.

“Ngh...no…” Jesse began. “If...If you call out a were...werewolves name...they...turn back into a...human.” 

Hanzo’s eyes widened.

“A...naked human I presume?”

“Yes, a butt-naked human.” Jesse paused. “God, I...I can’t transform...fuck...we’re screwed. We are so screwed.” 

He said, as the werewolves carefully approached the boxes the two men were hiding behind.

[haru-sen]

IAL/Overwatch Characters in Quarantine

First, I’m assuming they’re at base, maybe even in their own quarters. So they aren’t short on resources and there are plenty of drones and omnics that can visit/deliver items– they just need have their chassis sanitized afterward.

Torby:  He would immediately craft a hazmat/containment suit so he could go out.  He would also neglect to tell most everyone, because he could use the vacation.  He would also be making them for his wife, kids, and cats. If there are mechanical requirements, he would also be designing potential solutions - nano filters, early detection modules, air scrubbers, etc. There would be weird handwashing jokes.  

Reinhardt:  He would take quarantine very seriously, because he’s protective of his fellow agents and Angela has explained exactly how much harm he could cause if he doesn’t keep his distance from them.  But he is such a social person, and he would get lonely, so he’s always making video calls and switching between comm channels, jumping into everyone’s conversations, ordering food, and badgering Torby to make him a giant armored containment suit.  He would have teleconferencing tea parties with Brigitte and Ana and send Ziv lots of messages requesting help because he’s stuck on a kind-of-tricky platforming game.

Ana: It would have been a vacation, but Reinhardt keeps calling her to chat about everything ever. (He thinks she might be lonely? She doesn’t really feel like bursting his bubble.)  Lucky keeps calling to ask advice. (With Ana out, Lacroix and other troublemakers are running around unsupervised).  And Lacroix keeps sending her cheerful messages about how well he is managing everything. She is very suspicious, but reluctantly commits to not worrying about what is out of her hands. She can focus on fixing things afterward. Her hair might go a little grayer. She would be receiving lots of snack and tea deliveries from Athena drones.

Gabriel: He would be fine running Blackwatch remotely, but several agents would require “just wait till I get out of here...” threats.  He would enjoy wearing his pajamas while working, and catching up on mending Jack and Lucky’s clothing.  They really are so destructive.  He would take great pleasure in sending dirty messages/videos to his lovers just to wind them up.  But that is mutually assured destruction as he’s stuck by himself too...  

Jack: At first he would appreciate the slowdown, but after the first twelve hours, he would get very antsy. Yes, he’s issuing orders and handling situations, but he would like to go for a run, or spar, or do more sweaty dirty things with Gabriel and Lucky. Plus it would be nice to hover behind his lovers and steal food off their plates. There would be a lot of pouty “I miss you” messages, and beefcake selfies. But after a few days, he could go really off the deep end and do the opposite. He would just sit there in a bathrobe and eat green beans out of a can and drink out of the ketchup bottle. Or he’d take pictures of himself in Hawaiian shirts and socks with sandals and send them with taunting messages like, “Who says I can’t wear plaid with floral print?” Jack should probably not be quarantined alone.

Lucky: Lucky would probably try to enjoy the first day or two, but then she would be getting all kinds of messages from everyone about how grumpy the Blackwatch Commander is, how Ziv is running amok, and how their socks keep disappearing and where exactly is Isha? It would be very stressful, but Jack would make long calls while wearing silly outfits to try to cheer her up. (Jack would put on a blanket and pretend to be ghost or grandmother. It would not be convincing, but it would be cute.) Gabriel would cook her delicious meals and make plans for the future: where should we take our next vacation? Do you think this would look better on Jack or me? On you? OK, we’ll get three.” Lucky would curl up in a blanket and fall asleep to Gabriel reading to her or Jack snoring on the line because he drifted off at his desk.

Lacroix: As long as he could meddle, plot, and make his minions do his bidding, he would be fine. He would probably even get dressed properly, cook a gourmet meal, and have romantic video-call dates with his lovers. But because he isn’t outside to personally grief his friends/victims, he would be hiring other agents to do it for him. Athena might be amused enough to help him carry out these plots or at least cover his tracks.

Winston: Because his expertise would be required to help solve the problem, Winston would remain in his lab, hard at work. He would check in with his friends daily, and have mandatory downtime thanks to Athena. Basically, it would be like every other day, except Ziv can’t come in to badger him. So...more productive?

Amélie: Only boring people get bored. Aside from her strenuous exercise regiment, Amélie has plenty of books, films, and fancy wines. Perhaps she will have a boudoir photo shoot. Perhaps she will adapt and choreograph a modernized version of Twelve Dancing Princesses. Perhaps she will craft long term strategies for assassinating every member of the UN Security Council, just for fun. Most likely, she will go on an internet shopping spree and Lucky and Ziv will wake up the next day with entirely new wardrobes. The clothing would be accompanied by detailed stylistic “recommendations,” as well as notes clearly expressing how disappointed she will be if they fail to comply.

Hanzo: He would stick to a disciplined exercise regiment, meditate, and eventually have a cake craving. He might try cooking/baking if the facilities were available. If he tried to make something complex, there is fifty percent chance of him completely screwing it up. But fortunately no one saw, right? There is a one hundred percent chance that Athena recorded it.

Genji: Genji’s actions would be (un)surprisingly like Hanzo’s. The main difference is that Genji also likes video games and would ask Athena to read recipes and help him monitor whatever food he was making. So it would have a much higher chance of turning out successful. There is a one hundred percent chance that he would taunt Lucky by sending video of him eating his successful cake, though he might not tell her where it came from.

Angela: Let’s be honest, she would enjoy her vacation while everyone else freaked out, especially if it was just isolation and there was no dire need for her help. She could also remotely task Zenyatta or Athena to handle things.

Jesse: He would send lots of plaintive message to Lucky and Gabriel, mostly about how he was really hungry, and not feeling good, and maybe someone could make him some chili? Or soup? He would spend the first few hours on the couch with Bandit watching westerns. Though if Bandit wasn’t there, he would make the babysitter (probably Lucky) make multiple video calls so he could fuss over his dog. He would also get bored the fastest. He would start making cocktails based on people he knows.  It would get ridiculous (and drunk-ish) very quickly.

Tataryn: He would take the time to catch up on his skincare regiment, beauty sleep, and knife sharpening. He would be responsible and check on Vo... And then he would start sending messages to Lucky making increasingly outrageous requests. It would start small like, “could you pick up my dry cleaning and some fresh pomegranates?” And escalate from there into “borrow the Mona Lisa” and “hand deliver this love letter to Captain Amari.” He would also make lots of calls to Kseniya, and make an effort to study whatever subject has caught her interest: the social behavior of lemurs, sourdough starters, and a new magical girl show.

Ziv: He can do his job in isolation. He’d probably revel in the luxury of getting to wear sweatpants and not having to dress up. He would also binge video games, movies, and play D&D or Shadowrun remotely with his internet friends. There is a chance that Ziv doesn’t actually need to be quarantined, but Gabriel just signed off on it for personal reasons.

Távio: He would be incredibly bored, sending increasingly desperate messages to his friends, until Lucky finally cobbled together a mission for him to plan remotely. “We need to breach this casino’s security. Coordinate with Ziv.” Which of course, would just turn his attention of Ziv and the two of them would keep each other busy. Of course, it could just as easily be, “help Amélie arrange the catering and entertainment for Captain Amari’s birthday luncheon,” or “talk to Reinhardt for an hour.”

Chang: She would chainsmoke and drink most of the time, possibly calling Jack once every other day to check on the situation. Yes, she would exercise too, but Chang’s idea of fun involves a lot more destruction than those facilities can handle.

Feng: Feng would be bored and manic, but she would be fine. Whose fault do you think this entire thing is anyway?

[heroselect]

Omnics are the scum of this earth, that much Mako Rutledge is aware of. And cyborgs? They themselves were very close to being categorized as exactly the same, by Junker standards. As such, even the idea of an interaction with the silver-clad warrior filled the large man with annoyance, at best - and a strange sense of... fear. Nervousness. He wasn’t able to quite put his finger on it but... 

Well, not that it mattered. What mattered was the tone of voice he chose to assume when finally gathering the strength - not courage, strength - to address the ninja. Angry. And threatening. Yes, good. Perfect. Not even a trace of the actual matter at hand recognizable in his voice.

“...need your help.“ the Junker huffed, staring the cyborg down. They were both Overwatch agents now, after all. Weren’t they supposed to... help out their comrades... and all that?

As much as Roadhog hated the fact that the half-omnic was his only option, at this point...

@metal-sparrow​ // starter call;;

[sxmbra-xnline]

closed RP starter with @ec-static-engineer​

It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this...

From what she remembered, it started as an unexpected encounter with Overwatch agents while out for a mission in the Rialto area. She and Reaper were in charge of a squadron of Talon agents to finish the job quickly, and it would have been had it not been for that speedster and soldier’s meddling. Likely the opposing group had a recon agent on them to keep tabs on what they were doing in Rialto, and called in for backup. Thus, they brought in the polar opposites to the two high ranking Talon officials, Tracer and Soldier 76. 

It wasn’t long before 76 and Reaper went at it, and with Tracer coming, they couldn’t afford to lose their targets in the city, so Sombra ordered them to proceed and take down any incoming threats as she would get Tracer’s attention. Flanking left and right, the hacker would foil Oxton’s attempts to stop the Talon squadron by firing upon her to get her to fight back. It wasn’t long before Tracer realized Sombra wouldn’t stop, and they went at it. 

Pulse Pistols against her Machine Pistol, each rewind met with a hack, the two were neck-and-neck with each other. Sombra managed to get some damage into the brat’s chronal accelerator. With her EMP charged up, she threw out her translocator out and let loose the electromagnetic pulse, right at the moment Tracer set down the pulse bomb and was attempting to rewind. The EMP stopped the rewind in time, but the earlier damage to the chronal accelerator and the sudden EMP caused an unusual detonation for the pulse bomb, where Sombra and Tracer were left to it’s mercy at point blank.

At the moment of the blast, she could feel a large amount of spatial energy release from the malfunctioning chronal accelerator. For a moment, she could hear the Brit’s cry fade out into the Slipstream space as she lost her anchor in the present, all before the energy engulfed her body. She didn’t even hear herself scream as a wave of excruciating pain hit her before her sight faded to black. The hacker lost consciousness and succumbed to the dimensional matter she was immersed in.

[shhhrike]

@vcsionary | starter call.

        When Lucheng Interstellar struck up a deal with Overwatch, Ana didn’t expect Jack to actually agree to send their agents to outer space as if it were any milk run. She certainly didn’t expect her name to be thrown onto the roster too ( “think of the experience, Amari!” ); nor that the space training would be that gruelling; nor that the ride here would be so speedy; nor that the sheer concept of being completely, utterly untethered to the only world she knew would make her stomach twist every time it crossed her mind. 

       And to think she was too old to travel to anywhere new... 

       “Good grief! This cold will kill me before any war would,” she complains when she walks to where a lone Doctor Winston was standing. Before them was a gigantic, grand window, proudly displaying their home world with all its rocky, jagged continents and white-streaked oceans. Down there, there are storms of a colossal degree, whipping up gales and waves that towered hundreds of feet tall, and wars with rumbling explosions and rains of gunfire ---- but there is nothing to show for it on the Earth’s picturesque surface. Here, it was silent. “Don’t you miss it?” 

[frozendoorgaming]

Morning Mist #60

Announcements, Releases, Trailers

Battlefield 5's Pacific War chapter will be revealed on Wednesday

Batman: Arkham Legacy is the next Batman game, according to prominent leaker

Darksiders Genesis arrives in December for PC and Stadia, February 2020 for consoles

Luigi’s Mansion 3 Pays Homage to a “Classic” System

American Truck Simulator rolling into Utah in November

The Outer Worlds Will Rattle Your Idea Of A Perfect Planet

Starbase shows off its robotic body with a video all about player endoskeletons

Surreal plague horror Pathologic 2's Marble Nest expansion out next week

Succubus' First Gameplay Video is Certainly a Thing

Camelot Unchained nears the finish line for NPC pathfinding and shows off a new texture editor

Xbox One Skateboarding Game "Session" Delayed -- "We Know This Sucks," Dev Says

Milestones, Industry

Satisfactory dev says Epic Games store hate comes from 'a loud minority'

Children's commissioner calls on UK government to regulate loot boxes under the Gambling Act

Oxford study claims there isn’t “sufficient evidence” for gaming disorder

Diablo, protests and Overwatch 2: what can we expect from BlizzCon 2019?

Hearthstone trophy continues esports tradition of falling apart on air

Magic: The Gathering pro supports Hong Kong protests during championship appearance

Deals, Freeware

Disney+ on us: Verizon to give customers 12 months of Disney+

Steam Sale Dates Leaked: Halloween Sale, Autumn Sale, and Winter Sale

Xbox Live Fallout Bombs Drop Sale Live

Free Final Fantasy XIV Starter Edition Giveaway By Alienware Arena

Fosmon PS4 Controller Fast Charge Docking Station $5.99, Fosmon Xbox One Controller Charger $11.99

Dead or Alive 6 Only $15 after 50% off at Best Buy

Save over 50% on this very blue Logitech gaming headset at Walmart

Save $744 on this Lenovo Legion battle station right now

You can get a free Chromebook with the new Google Pixel 4

Oh good, there's a GameCube style Joy-Con out now

Information

You can now play your local multiplayer Steam games with friends online

Confirmed: All Xbox One controllers work on the next Xbox

Apex Legends' Voidwalker cinematic turns Wraith's infinite worlds into an absurd binary

Agent 47 puts a pumpkin on his head to tease Hitman 2's Halloween horrors

It's official: Field of the Dead is banned in Magic, ban will happen this week in Arena

No, Guild Wars 2 is not banning people using ArcDPS

Pokemon Go Battle League launching in early 2020

Pokemon Pass is now giving away Shiny Solgaleo and Shiny Lunala

God of War 3 director stunned by Witcher III Switch performance, calls it 'glorious feat of dev magic'

Etc

Someone built Tetris in Overwatch

Magic Meets My Little Pony In Ponies: The Galloping

Nintendo's Old Japanese Websites Are An Internet Time Trip

Gears 6 May Be Taking Inspiration from An Unexpected TV Show

Cadence of Hyrule, Sonic Mania artist puts the term 'indie' into question

Microsoft unveils plan to apply Xbox-like security measures to Windows PCs

NordVPN confirms one of its servers was hacked

[mediocre-overwatch]

Hello baby blog! Can I get hc for a female agent reader flirting with Hanzo/Reinhardt/ genji/Lucio and successfully making them fluster because they actually like reader. Like your writings!

Before I start, I WANNA SAY I’M SO SORRY FOR THIS BEING LIKE 3 YEARS LATE I FEEL SO BAD. Life just got in the way, but I’m gonna try to be better about writing from here on out. :) Thank you for requesting!

Hanzo

Why Hanzo was leaning against your room’s door frame, you had no idea. You two only really had encounters in battle. You know, the usual “Sniper on the left!” ot “This area is cleared out.” So when Hanzo cracked a cringe-inducing joke, he didn’t know how to react when he heard a feminine giggle in reply. But now that he was here, back against your door, it was clear that you he had taken an interest in you.

You opened the door, which caused Hanzo to trip and stumble into your room. He adjusted himself, cheeks already dusted pink. He looked you in your eyes as he spoke, “…Y/N. It is nice to see you.” You raised an eyebrow. “Nice to see you too, Hanzo.”

“I came to talk,” he folded his arms over his chest. He tried to put on his usual cold facade, despite the curiosity in his eyes. You looked at him strangely.

“At 2am? What is this, a booty call?” His eyes widened with surprise. “Those are usually done over text, you know. I can give you my number–”

“N-no!” He nearly yelled. “I just want to… get to know you. For you to get to know me. Nothing sexual.” A small smile crept onto your face. “Then let’s talk,” you sat on your bed and patted a space next to you. Hanzo followed obediently.

He asked you a few deep questions. Mostly things like, “Did you ever think you’d end up here?” or “Do you aspire for anything more? Less?”

“What’s your opinion on dragons?”

They were very open minded questions, and you appreciated that he wanted to know those things about you. But, when it was your turn, you decided to spice it up and ask more… personal questions. “Are you single?” “Who was your last girlfriend?” “When did you break up?” 

“Did you have sex with her?”

The last one made him stand up in embarrassment. “Y/N, I have already said this is not my interest with you,” he made a quick line for the door. 

Instead of leaving, however, he stood there for a moment. He turned back to you, grinning on your bed. He was lingering on whether or not he should actually answer you, before uttering quietly, “Yes. I did not enjoy it.” then quickly speeding out of your room and down your hallway.

He’s definitely coming back tomorrow.

Reinhardt (I hope you don’t mind that I used young Rein for this, which also means you’re technically not an agent.)

He confidently stood amongst a flock of German girls who were crowding the Eichenwalde gate. Why shouldn’t he brag about his accomplishments? You angrily stood behind them, arms crossed and impatient.

“Aww,” he noticed your pout. “Is someone not getting enough attention? Here, liebling, we can talk one on one.” He grabbed your arm and tugged you under the bridge, despite protests from the other girls around him.

“Don’t touch me,” you pulled your arm away. “You and your little fangirls are in the way.” You tried to push past him, but he didn’t budge. He looked at you with slight confusion, no one has ever acted that way towards him except his colleagues. It actually intrigued him. “What’s the matter? Shy?”

You pushed him away from you and rolled your eyes. “No. I just wanna get to the market,” you pointed down the street. His eyes lit up with curiosity as he offered to buy whatever you needed. “I’m not helpless, I can get it myself,” you sighed. “Besides, don’t you have those to attend to?” you motioned to the girls.

He let out a hearty laugh, “Why, to leave you here all alone? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smirked at his remark. Maybe you could work with this.  “Well, you could help me with something.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. His breath hitched in his throat. This was different for him. Most girls we’re too scared to even speak to him.

His cheeks tinted pink and he nodded with eager. “For starters, you could move your girls out of the way? Then maybe I can do something for you…”

he immediately made a beeline towards the gate

“Excuse me, ladies, I’m going to have to call it an end for today’s gathering.” They all huffed in disappointment. “But tomorrow I’ll have a, um,” he glanced at you. “hopefully exciting story to tell?” They slowly left, and went about their day scattered around in the village. You walked next to Reinhardt, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Now what can you do for me?” he grinned.

“Well, I could not tell von Adler about you flirting instead of being on patrol. Get back to work, big guy,” you patted his shoulder and worked your way to the shops. Of course not without an angry, blushing Reinhardt wondering why the hell he was actually into you.

Genji (Blackwatch)

Genji was known for being pretty harsh. No matter the circumstance. If he was angry or didn’t like you, you’d know. The cold gaze was all anyone needed. That was until you showed up, of course.

The new and cheerful Nurse Y/L/N. An assistant to Mercy, specializing in the Blackwatch field of Overwatch. You were trained to deal with deep bullet wounds and gashes, as well as cybernetics for one particular cyborg. Mercy informed you on all his ins and outs, and as well as what parts were actually human. He was quite interested by this.

“You’re smart,” he told you one day during a checkup. You lifted his right arm. “I went to school for things like  this, Genji. For you.” You bent it at the joint and made sure all the screws were in place. You frowned, “This is a bit loose.” You let go of his arm and washed your hands. The exposed part of his face tinted with a light pink, “Oh.”

“Can you take off your faceplate, please?” He immediately shook his head. “Genji, this is a part of your check up. I need to see you,” You reached a hand out to grab it. He scooched back on the medical bed and… hissed at you?

“Only Dr.Ziegler and I know how to take this off,” he watched your hand reach toward his face. “and I’d rather you not know what I look like,” you unhinged his mask from his face. He immediately averted his eyes from your gaze.

A small smile grew on your face, “Cute.” You set the mask next to him and searched for your flashlight and tongue depressors.

He huffed and furrowed his eyebrows. His emotions are a lot easier to read without his mask on. “I am not cute. I’m a machine designed for quick assassination.” You laughed and grabbed his hand.

“Hurt me, then.”

He stared at you blankly for a moment. “Uh… No??” You smiled and beckoned him to squeeze your hand as hard as he could. “I’m not… I don’t want to purposely hurt you.”

“My point,” you smiled. He looked at you quizzically. “It’s a shame you think so lowly of yourself, Genji,” you rested your hand atop his. He flinched.

“You still have a beating heart. You have emotions, wants, needs. You are not the angry killer you’re trained to think you are.” You stared at each other. He licked his lips, not sure why your words had so much affect on him. It was like you had meant what you said to him, like you truly didn’t see him as an abomination. Like you actually thought he was still a person.

“You’re still who you used to be.” He gripped the hand you put on his. What are you doing to him? It’s driving him crazy. “You’re still a human.” He slightly leaned his face toward yours, his eyes trained on your lips.

You shined your flashlight in his eyes. He quickly jumped back and blinked a few times. “Your reaction time is pretty fast, though,” you smiled. He sat there in shock for a few moments. You pressed your tongue depressor in his mouth while it was still agape. He quickly closed his it. You smiled and slid the stick off his tongue. His cheeks grew redder than they had previously been.

You placed the stethoscope against the exposed part of chest. “Your heart is beating a little fast, Genji. Are you okay?” He silently nodded. Were you really a doctor? No, you had to be a witch. This is some sort of spell you cast on him.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to check on your arm,” you made your way towards the door. “Try not to move it too much.” You smiled at Genji then turned to leave the room

Lucio

You had finally gotten a break. No fighting, no saving the day, just you and Lucio sitting in his studio.

He had decided to make his time off dedicated to writing another album. He had been humming a tune to himself while deciding what to name his song, when he suddenly threw his hands up in defeat.

“I can’t do this,” he groaned, laying his head on your lap. You played with his dreads, causing him to close his eyes. “It’s like nothing inspires me anymore. I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Y/N.”

“Have you tried finding inspiration? It won’t always just come to you,” you sat him up. He turned towards you so you could examine the loose bun you put atop his head. He rolled his eyes at the ‘aww’s that came from you.

“Where would I find inspiration in the middle of a battlefield? In the bloodshed? In the loss? I fight for peace, the exact opposite Overwatch brings,” he rested a hand on his cheek. “I just wish there was something else..”

“..what if there was someone? Someone close to you?” you said lowly, lifting his head off of his hand. You rested your palm on his cheek. His cheeks showed a hint of pink as he bit his bottom lip.

“I don’t… know…” he mumbled. His eyes met yours. You smiled and brushed your thumb over his cheek. “What if there was?”

“You could use whatever they made you feel,” you moved your thumb to his bottom lip. His eyes quickly flickered down to yours. “and put it into your music. Don’t be scared to say how you feel.”

His eyes fluttered shut. He sat for a few seconds before a small smile formed on his face. His eyes slowly opened and fell onto you. He uttered a small, “screw it,” before placing his lips lightly on your cheek. He almost immediately backed away and ran into the booth. You placed your hand on your cheek and smiled.

[livesinthebalance]

My current strongest muses on this blog:

Important Notes

All of these muses are set only within the universe of Overwatch on this blog.

Bold and Italics means they are Very Loud at the moment ]

GAMING

Carlos Reyes [ Overwatch ]

Tseng [ Final Fantasy VII ]

Midas [ Fortnite ]

MOVIES

Cable [ Marvel ]

Xu Wenwu [ Marvel ]

Le Chiffre [ James Bond ]

Arashikage Takashi / Storm Shadow [ GI Joe ]

TELEVISION

James Valdez [ QotS ]

Taza [ QotS ]

John Druitt [ Sanctuary ]

Milo Murphy [ Milo Murphy's Law ]

Leonard Snart [ DC ]

ORIGINAL

AJ Warren

Abby Dekker

Javier Cruz

Mikhail Petras

Nolan Travers

OTHER

Percy Blakeney

If you want anything—or even just to try to plot something—with any of these muses, let me know because I am super excited to be able to write some of these babies again.

[aerialsuperiority]

@countrywestern liked for a starter~

It had been two months--two months since Fareeha had completed the first part of the Overwatch enlistment process. Both the mental aptitude and physical exams had been taken, and her counselor interview to determine where she would be placed, should she be accepted, had been completed. 

“Well, Ms. Amari,” the counselor had said, “it usually takes us a couple of days to process everyone’s test results. Typically, we give you a call with our decision after about a week.” She’d smiled so kindly, for someone who did this all day. “Best of luck!”

And it had now been two months.

She knew it had something to do with her mother, Fareeha knew. She would have at least received a call voicing her denial, otherwise, but she hadn’t received any word at all. 

It was for this reason that she was now heading to the Overwatch Headquarters in Switzerland. She needed to speak with Ana about this... this control she so desperately sought to have over Fareeha’s life and choices. 

After her entry into the complex was approved, she made her way through the familiar maze of halls to the command center. As soon, as she entered, however, she knew something was off.

She could see some familiar faces scattered around the room--Sojourn, Reinhardt, Jesse... there were more, but Fareeha was too distracted by the looks on their faces to continue looking. While half of them had their gazes dropped despondently to the floor, the other half were staring at the bright displays in front of them. Sojourn was speaking firmly but quietly into her comms, and Fareeha wished she could hear what she was saying.

She did not see her mother anywhere.

Fareeha started walking over to Reinhardt, but before she could reach him, the doors slid open once more. In walked Jack Morrison, followed by members of she recognized as being on her mother’s strike team. She looked around for Ana’s face, only to have her stomach drop with the recognition that she wasn’t with the rest of her team.

Jack was barking out orders to the agents around the room, but Fareeha was too dazed to fully process everything he was saying. Is she hurt? Was she taken? Is she...? 

Her hearing tuned back in as Morrison said, “Reyes, I want an investigation from Blackwatch as well. Anything you can spare, whatever you think will work. We have to find her.”

Fareeha caught the glance Gabriel gave Jesse after that, and that was all she needed. As conflicted as her relationship with her mother was, she couldn’t just sit around and do nothing while she could be dying. She started walking toward Jesse and Gabriel, determination like fire in her eyes and heart.

She had to be on that search.

[inkbun]

What if Sombra got into a heated argument with her S/O but before they can settle it out they get called on a mission. Things go south and her S/O almost dies and gets amnesia?

Ooh, I liked writing this one. Doing everything but the amnesia part for the sake of time, but if you send a follow-up reminder I’ll write a sequel. Enjoy! 💔

(Warning: *Very* slight gore and drug mentions, if you’re sensitive to that sort of stuff)

Sombra

Words: 1,860

Genre: Romance, Angst & Tragedy

“You lied to me, Olivia,” you snarled, dashing your tablet on the table. The screen cracked, but you hardly cared. “I trusted you, and you screwed me over…again.”

“I didn’t lie,_______,” snapped Sombra, violet eyes caught between fury and fear. 

She reached out to you, touch pleading. You swatted her away. 

No matter how much you wanted to trust her—no, needed to—she found a way of screwing things up. At first, it’d been minor slip-ups: a shady infiltration here, a wetwork operation there. It was grey as hell and heinous in spots, but you didn’t sign up for Blackwatch to be a moral paragon. 

After all, you’d sought her out like bees after honey. Forget that you’d made a rule against sleeping with your colleagues, having turned down both Lena’s and Jamison’s advances before. 

She was technicolor bright, had you wrapped around her manicured finger from the first “Hey there.”

Brilliant, playful and menacing—it was a combination you’d never run across before. Her laugh was intoxicating, vanished all good sense and thrust you into her web for the better part of eight months. 

Things were a little disjointed—she had a habit of sneaking up on you during work, and your schedules were out-of-sync due to last minute missions.

Still it progressed, the two of you declaring yourselves exclusive two months of dating. 

Four months in and you’d saved her life during an omnic ambush at Petra—it was the first time she said “I love you.” You stayed with her in the infirmary until she was better, made it a point to volunteer for her missions whenever they had an extra spot. 

Though relationships were officially forbidden between agents, Sombra made a point of kissing you on the dropship before and after each mission. “Para la buena suerte,” she’d say, tapping a finger against your lip.

Six months in, she shattered your heart. 

While you didn’t approve of the “side hustle” excursions she did for Commander Reyes, it never took her away from you for more than three days. So, when she disappeared for a full week on a recon mission with no comms contact, you assumed the worst. 

You asked around for her, going so far as visiting the younger Shimada for intel. No one saw hide nor purple hair, widening the pit of loss in your chest to a cavern that left you dazed. You��d just begun to grieve, bawling quietly in your room until she unexpectedly returned to base.

Except she wasn’t your Olivia. 

For starters she was blonde, augments switched from purple to pink. She was twitchy and short, bouncing from gleeful to irritated in the span of minutes. 

When you asked where she’d been, she answered with a cryptic “away,” before distracting you with vicious kisses that backed you onto your bed. 

To your shame it worked, sheer relief of having her home outweighing your curiosity. 

That is, until a baggy fell from her go-bag when you were cleaning your quarters. 

It was packed with white powder, a pink sugar skull on the front. You secretly took it to the lab, ignoring Dr. O'Deorain’s scowl as you handed over the suspicious packet. Her accented voice told you what already knew. 

“Cocaine—Los Muertos product by the looks of it.” Shaken, you confronted Sombra, hoping she had a good explanation. 

She did. “A party favor from Don Galano, nothing more,_________. I couldn’t get the intel Reyes needed without a show of faith.“ 

You believed her. Sombra wasn’t a Girl Scout and you weren’t a fool. 

Los Muertos was a serious international gang and her connections were a great source of intel for Overwatch. Still, you didn’t like how quickly she’d resumed that dangerous persona. 

The ordeal blew over, though she insisted on finishing the Muertos’ coke and keeping the blonde hair. 

Discomfort lodged in your chest until at last you turned to her one night, pulling her close against you. Trembling, you pressed a kiss to her forehead; your words came out choked. 

”Promise you won’t take as many risky missions, Liv—or at least tell me before you do? I can’t lose you.“

“I promise, mi cielo.”

And then she did it again. 

This one cut you to the quick, hurt compounded by the “cover” she’d assumed. Reyes sent Sombra and McCree to intercept a Talon-bound weapons shipment ferried by Deadlock. Jesse was playing prodigal son, supposed to ask for an “in” on a courier mission to prove his loyalty. 

Olivia played his girlfriend, leveraging her notoriety as Sombra to lend some credibility to the farce.

You knew this not because she told you, but because you happened to pass by the Blackwatch control room on your way to the R&D wing. Genji, O'Deorain and Reyes were huddled around a screen, headsets on as they monitored the situation. Backup teams were on standby to bust the deal, but the Deadlock leader was skeptical of Jesse’s loyalty. 

“You show up outta nowhere and expect me to believe you, Jess?” said the portly man, hand fingering a revolver. “I don’t. Now your lady here—she’s different. I’ve seen what she can do.”Reyes’ voice rung out, jolting your terrified trance. “Sell it, Colomar. We need those weapons.”

So she did. You heard her speak the words, your heart caught between betrayal and worry for her safety—Deadlock wasn’t known for their mercy.

“And I’ve seen what he can do,” she rasped, trailing a finger down Jesse’s shoulder. “If I didn’t think he was back for real I would’ve shot him myself. He’s got my stamp of approval, O'Toole…”

Sombra trailed off, turning to face McCree. You had a good idea where this was going, had seen that same heavy-lidded gaze leveled at you so many times before.

“Don’t, Liv—please,” you whispered, not caring if anyone heard you. They didn’t, and neither did she. 

Sombra closed the gap and kissed McCree, looping her arms around his shoulders as he took her hips. 

It was enough to break you. An inhuman noise ripped from your throat, grabbing Genji’s attention. 

You scurried away before he caught up, ignoring cries of “__________, come back!”

She doesn’t care, she doesn’t care… The miserable song kicked in your head for three days, visions of her slung around McCree enough to make you ill. 

Mission or not, you hated that she was so quick to ignore the one request you’d made of her. Her refusal to tell you about the mission coupled with her kissing Jesse ached something awful.

Reeling from the hurt, you stormed 76’s office and accepted the first high-risk mission you could, bypassing his concerns with a growled,“Do it.”

Sombra’s voice tore you from your thoughts, brought them back to the woman who’d carved your heart out. “I told you, it was part of the mission and I couldn’t tell—”

“Just stop!” you shouted, slinging your go-bag over your shoulder. Furious tears wet your cheeks, belying the little composure you’d maintained. “The coke I could get past. I wasn’t happy about it, but I got why. As long as you don’t pick it up again, I’m fine. But fucking McCree? He’s been after you for months and you jump at the first opportunity to pose as his girlfriend?”

“He’s not been after me…” she started, shadow of guilt on her face.

“You’re many things, Liv; stupid ain’t one of ‘em. After you, interested in you—however you put it, he wants sex and you dangled it in front of him without a goddamn thought for how I’d feel about it…you didn’t even tell me where you were going. Again.”

Sombra’s worry hardened to outrage. “You think I’d cheat on you, __________?”

There it was, the question that haunted you at the bottom of the wine bottles strewn around your room. You looked at her—your Olivia—and remembered the flutter you’d felt the first day you saw her on-base.

She’d winked at you, tongue caught between her teeth in a silent chuckle. 

An angel, you’d thought, inquiring after her just as soon as you could. Standing here now with a chasm between, you realized just how much your opinion soured since then. You held her gaze, answering with the only truth you knew.

“I don’t know.“ 

You were halfway out the door when Sombra managed to speak. “Where are you going?”

“Does it matter?” you quipped, tired of the ache whenever you were around her. “Either way it’s away from you.”

With that, you were off to Jakarta.  A war zone since the omnic uprising, 76 sent you, Tracer, and Roadhog to retrieve an encrypted archive lodged in one of the overrun Overwatch research stations. 

He told you it’d be rough, but that was an understatement. It was a shitshow, the three of you spotted by omnics as soon as you touched down. 

Roadhog’s shrapnel gun kept them at bay while you picked them off with a pulse rifle. Tracer eliminated whatever you couldn’t down, the three of you clearing a smoke-filled path to the lab. 

Sure you were reckless, and no you didn’t need to bash that omnic’s head until you saw circuits, but there were no medals awarded for being merciful.

All was going well until you breached the archive door. Taking point, you used your decryption kit on the biometrics and walked in. Whether it was your team’s success up to this point or the tide of emotion from your fight with Sombra, you weren’t paying attention. 

So, when your foot tripped an omnic trap and activated a bot shrouded in the darkness five feet away, you didn’t notice.

But you sure as hell did when it slammed its fist against your head. You yowled, aiming your gun at the attacker. The damn thing was fast, stomping its metal foot on your ribs before you could block. 

CRACK! 

Your vision went white with agony, smeared by blood from your head wound. You wailed, jaw strained by the scream of pain.

Roadhog hooked the bot, shooting it point-blank with his shotgun. It fell dead but you didn’t care—your ribs were broken and you were clawing for breath. 

Tracer was immediately at your side, radioing for emergency evac clearance and a triage team. With another shuddering inhale came a white-hot stab of pain as you felt something pierce you. 

The air fell out of you, failed gasps burning your chest as it collapsed under the puncture.

Your vision went black at the edges as you felt a big pair of hands scoop you up, fading further as you saw Tracer race ahead to reach the dropship. Ceding to the lack of oxygen and trickling blood loss, you welcomed the black oblivion. 

In it, you saw a pair of violet eyes and her wry smile.

[dragxnfall]

“please look at me.” //destroy me

&. SOFT ANGST STARTERS.

     ░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░

╔  There have only been two instances that Jesse can remember where he ever cried: the first, ganged up on in an alleyway in New Mexico - a mere child not even the age of eight, bloodied and bruised by large, grown men that would soon adopt him into their ranks against his will. But what choice did a kid without a home have? Pummeled into submission and controlled by fear, Jesse grew up faster than most his age the moment a gun fell into his small hand.

The second time where his eyes welled against his will was when Reyes... left. The man that took him in, straightened up the unruly, mouthy, angry teenager running around on the streets, terrorizing any and everyone in their path. Jesse may have grown up with the Deadlock Gang, but it was Reyes that raised him. McCree wouldn’t be half the man he was today if it weren’t for Gabriel. Things might have changed for worse, but nonetheless, Jesse tries to keep the better parts of himself in shape, such so that in a way, Gabriel lived on through him.

Tonight, he weeps for a third time when another part of him is ripped away before his eyes as he watches the only woman who had ever kept his head on right fall. He had heard the single shot fire, Ana Amari at his side, distracted by a wounded Jesse. Next thing he knows, she’s on the ground and he absolutely loses his mind.

It was as though time had stopped, that nothing else in this world mattered as Jesse watches on, wide-eyed while a small spot on Ana’s cloak protrudes out, fabric practically exploding and it tears itself. His blood runs cold, heart sinking to the depths of his stomach when red spatter emerges from her small body, speckling across his grime-dusted face. Her expression mimics his, surprise, disbelief, then...pain. 

His arms shoot out, reaching out for her before she collapses to the cold, wet ground, her rifle clattering to the stone beside her. Jesse’s knees give out, the cowboy falling numbly to them. 

“Cap’n, no, no, no, no!” He chants mindlessly, sanity quickly unraveling at the sight in his arms, ripping her cloak and wrapping it messily around his hand, holding it to her gaping injury. No exit wound. He doesn’t have the time, materials, or wit about him in this moment to stop it. That spot...it was targeted with intent to kill and it’s rapidly reaching succession.

“MERCY!” He bellows at the top of his lungs,  wild, wide eyes burning hotly as he looks around frantically for the medic. Despite his actions, he tries to lie to himself as he pretends he doesn’t hear the last of Ana’s breathing as her hand gently clutches into the neckline of his serape in a desperate attempt to quell him, a soft whisper of Fareeha’s name, his own,  and her last words that he knows will haunt him. The tears that roll down his face are unnoticed, a dry sob and beg leaving him as he pleads for something, anything, to stop this.  His train of thought is derailed as he thinks of Jack, Fareeha, Reinhardt, all those that Ana had adored so dearly, how was Jesse supposed to tell them?!

To no avail, there is no angel to rescue the woman that had nurtured him like he was her own, only the shadow of a devil falling over them, looming ominously over them as it seemed to stretch on into eternity. Stiffly, McCree’s head turns forward again, heart shattering at the only person he didn’t want to see in this moment. 

Words fail him as he takes in the sight ofAmélie, no, that’s not her. Those eyes that stare down at him icier than the cold sweat covering him, makes his heart race in a way that’s different than it did when he’d gaze at her in infatuation. The gaze on him is Widowmaker. That isn’t the woman he’d kiss on the forehead every night and day, not the woman he’d steal moments away from this shithole called life just so he could bask in moments of happiness with, this wasn’t the woman he loved. 

His eyes fall, jerkily, struggling to focus as they lower to her rifle dangling from her hand, smoke billowing from the barrel and dancing into the brisk night air. Freshly fired.

Jesse has never felt so betrayed. 

Fury , animosity, vengeance, and grief consume his soul as his arm whips out, peace keeper pulled on the standing woman as he reels in Ana’s lifeless body closer against him as though it could mend the raging storm inside him, repair the dam that had broken in that moment. 

McCree, the notorious gunslinger with top notch aim, always quick to the draw - cannot find it in himself to pull the trigger as his hand trembles violently. Jesse hates himself for being at war against himself, his comrades, and his soulmate. 

His finger quivers on the trigger, gaze on her legs but finding itself unable to raise any further than that because he knows the moment he looks at her face, it’s game over. She would win and they both knew it well. Yet despite that, her words...they’re soft, they’re just as broken as he is and Jesse can’t figure out what the right thing to do is anymore. 

Jesse’s finger finally pulls. One shot in the air, two shots, three, four...five and six bury themselves into the cobblestones of the ground they share, barely inches fromAmélie ‘s feet in a desperate attempt to make her leave. Overwatch agents would be arriving soon; she has to escape while she can.

“...Get out of here, just...go.” Jesse croaks weakly, a subtle sniff leaving him as he swallows back anything else he would regret. “Please,Amélie .” He pleads, eyes never finding hers as he forces himself to look down at what was equally just as hard if not even more worse. His prized gun clatters to the ground, arm slowly falling to close Captain Amari’s lifeless, blank eyes in hopes she could be just a little bit closer to peace. ╝ 

[reapers-carino]

Can I request a mix of two of the soft angst starters? "Can I hug you?" And "Go on, cry." For a fem reader with a Gabriel who just got his powers from Moira? I feel like this could be a feels trip :'D

“A pinch more salt…and a little basil…and done!”

A pleased smile had settled on your lips as you added the final touches to the pasta sauce that was simmering away on the stove. Tuesdays and Thursdays you cooked dinner for Gabriel, giving him a break from the mess hall and his role as big bad boss. Behind the closed doors of his officer quarters, he was simply Gabi, your boyfriend and someone who deserved a break from all their work. Cooking was something simple and fairly quick that you could do, something that the man appreciated and made you feel like you were doing something to alleviate the mounting stress on his shoulders. 

Blackwatch had been facing increasing scrutiny by the UN due to their latest ‘aquisition’, the shamed geneticist Moira O’Deorain. She was a genius, you could give her that and Gabriel had said as much, comparing her to Overwatch’s ‘angelic’ Angela Ziegler. But her tendency to tiptoe the line of ethical egoism made her dangerous, the Irish woman often conducting experiments with or on Blackwatch agents with no clear definition of what the outcomes might be. When her experimentations were successful, they were impressive, but when they failed the responsibility of the maimed or dead fell directly on Gabriel. Gabriel, for the most part, was mum about what went wrong, seeing as you were not only a civilian but also someone he wanted to keep separated from the lifestyle he had found himself in. You were his refuge and he didn’t want to endanger that or you by letting you know too much. You figured you could respect that if that what he truly wanted. 

You jumped up onto the counter as you waited for the water to boil, legs swinging and feet kicking as your fingers typed away on your tablet. Your eyes lit up as a notification popped up on the screen, alerting you to the fact that the door had just been opened. 

“Gabi”, you cried out happily, jumping from the counter and dashing from the kitchen to the small foyer that led into the apartment. A wide grin settled on your lips as you rounded the corner, eyes catching sight of your boyfriend. “How ar–?!”

Your words died in your throat as you looked the man over, a hard knot of concern forming in your throat. Gabriel was leaning heavily against the inside of the door, body hunched over as he wheezed painfully. He looked disheveled, his hoodie and beanie missing, dressed in only his combat boots and cargo pants, hands clawing at the door. Or what was left of his hands. Black and gray smoke curled off of his body in steady plumes, rising from his shoulders and head and arms and fingers. His eyes darted between his hands, frantic, clenching and opening his fists, the smoke only intensifying as his panic increased. 

Your brow was furrowed tight in confusion, your own eyes dancing over his body, trying to wrap your mind around what might be going wrong and how you could help. Gabriel’s eyes jumped to yours, the sheer unabashed terror that danced across his features grabbing your heart in a vice grip. Now wasn’t the time to wonder the whats, he was drowning in his own thoughts, obviously frightened of what was happening to him and he needed you…

“Hey”, you called out, moving closer to the man, his eyes growing fractionally wider. A comforting smile settled onto your lips, both palms faced upwards and arms opened. “It’s okay…hey Gabi focus on me…yeah?”

Gabriel flinched when your hand reached for him, your reach stopping but hand still extended to the man to show you weren’t afraid. Even his brown eyes seemed to have taken on a smokier hue, black lapping at the warm brown of his irises. This was a look you had seen before, albeit rarely; Gabriel was in the throes of a full-blown panic attack. Gabriel was open about his lifelong struggle with anxiety that was further exacerbated by PTSD from after the war. Even after therapy, he was plagued by nightmares of what he had gone through during the war, the things he had both seen and endured. 

Those nights he would wake up alert and anxious, mind battling against reality as he tried to come to terms that he was battling an enemy that wasn’t actually there. You had learned through long discussions and experience that Gabriel craved an anchor, something that he could feel and touch, something that could ground him to the here and now. You’d gently place your hand in his and he’d slowly lean into you, bit by bit moving closer and closer to you, your arms eventually wrapping around him as his head would come to rest on your shoulder. Time would tick away bit by bit until he found his footing once more, the two of you rearranging your schedules and spending the day recuperating with one another or members of his team he considered family. And you would do the same now. 

“Gabriel”, you repeated softly, lowering yourself to the ground carefully and settling on your knees. His eyes continued to follow you, his back sliding down the door as your hand reached out, taking his smoking limb into your own. 

His hand felt both solid and cushiony, his palm resting against your, his fingers squeezing at yours before giving way to light whispy touches against the back of your hand. You smiled warmly, openly, Gabriel’s eyes darting between your eyes to your intertwined hands, the amount of smoke pouring from his lips with each breath decreasing as he stared at you. You watched the tension in his shoulders slowly ebb, giving way to all-encompassing exhaustion, his body pitching forward and his head falling to your shoulder. Slowly, carefully your fingers slid from his, your cheek nuzzling against the side of his head gently.

“Can I hug you”, you asked softly, waiting for the slightest nod before your arms wrapped around his body gently, carefully, his own arms wrapping around you bruisingly tight. Your hands gingerly rubbed up and down his spine, his body pressing even further into yours, the man sucking in a shuddering breath of air as his fingers clawed at the back of your shirt. He hiccuped once, twice, before your left hand smoothed up his spine, fingers combing through his thick black curls as you pressed his head closer to the side of your neck. “It’s okay Gabi…go on, cry. I’m here for you.”

The fragile dam that had been up finally broke as his shoulders completely sagged and a ragged sob escaped his lips, the hot warmth of tears touching your neck before running down into your shirt. You softly hummed and shushed in the back of your throat, letting him have this.Whatever he had been through, he needed to let this out and you would be there for him to help pick him back up when needed.

[solarbird]

"That seemed to go well," she said, making the effort

This is the seventh story of the It's Not Easy To Explain, She Said collection of short stories. It takes place about six months after the previous ("It's not easy to explain how she felt," said the Widowmaker, about Amélie Lacroix), and about a year and a half before the third story ("It's really not easy to explain," said Emily Oxton).

All of Widowmaker's thoughts are translated from the French.

I wanted to end a very bad year on a very happy story, so - here we are. May 2018 be better. [AO3 link]

Emily worked outside, in the sun, laptop on hand, references up on PADDs, watching her wife and her wife's girlfriend dance, from afar, on the Overwatch practice range. They called it battling - or more correctly, battle training - but one careful glance put the lie to that. They danced, and anyone looking - really looking - could tell it.

They're awfully good together, she thought, a little bit disgruntled, a little bit envious, a little bit uncertain about how she felt. She'd got what she'd joked she'd be fine with, six months before, and really, she was fine with it - glad, even, to have the world's best sniper on her wife's side, rather than as an enemy.

But she couldn't lie to herself. She felt a bit left out. Lena tried, and it helped - they were all still trying, even Widowmaker, in her own way, and it helped - but all that help made it no less true, just the same.

If only she wasn't so damned remote all the time, even when she's trying not to be. What's it take to get through to you, woman?

The two Overwatch agents mopped up the last of the target robots - cleanly and efficiently as always - and Emily waved as they both made their way back up to the starting platform for another run.

"That seemed to go well," she said, making the effort, as Widowmaker landed not two metres in front of her.

The former assassin shrugged noncommittally. "It was too easy." Her frustration - and some boredom - surfaced into her voice. "The robots..." - she frowned, shaking her head a little - "they are not a worthwhile challenge. I have requested substantial upgrades." She cycled her rifle, cleaning the barrel, and reloading. "At very least, they should return fire."

She paused, and hummed, a little. "I am surprised you are interested."

"Of course I'm interested."

"Why?"

"It's important to Lena, and also, to you. And so, I'm interested."

The spider puzzled at that, for a little bit, wondering why, as Tracer teleported up next to the aeronautics engineer, kissing the top of her head. "How's the design rev goin', luv?"

"Oh, it's all fine - this is just iterative, for the most part." She looked up and kissed Lena back. "Regulations compliance updates, really. I'm just finishing up."

Lena looked over to Widowmaker, and back to Emily. "We've got another couple of runs - don't think you have to wait for us, if y'don't want to."

Emily smiled. "Of course I want to. We've got dinner in town after, remember? All three of us." Another date night. The last one ended up with Emily and Widowmaker arguing at each other for no particular reason, about everything and about nothing, two slightly-wary cats picked up together and made to go HUGGY HUGGY HUGGY. They'd talked about it, after, and hopefully, tonight would go better.

"You sure? Y'don't have to. We'll catch you up, if you want t'go on ahead."

"I think it's..." She looked over to the blue woman. "I think it's important to know your work."

Widowmaker puzzled at that, as well, just a little bit. She didn't know anything about aeronautics, and did not really care to. But she thought on what her lover's wife said, tasting it, almost, trying it against what she had of an emotional range, and found that it resonated, somehow. Something is there, she thought. Something I think I would like.

"Besides - it's a lovely day, both my girls are out in it, I'm almost done with work and I've got a side project I want to play with. What else could I need?"

"Brilliant," replied her wife, beaming, as the warning timer sounded and she moved back to start position. She turned to the former Talon assassin. "This one has me starting first - I get 30 seconds head start."

The blue spider nodded affirmation to Tracer, and then blinked, as the confusion of emotions in her head fell into place. She looked at Emily, first mostly with one eye, then mostly with the other, saying, "You are..." She is trying to... empathise? with me? Not just to be friendly, but to... empathise, and her expression relaxed, opening up, just a little, and she nodded, slowly, her eyes a little more open, her voice softened, ever so slightly. "I understand."

Lena took it to mean the exercise, but Emily caught the expression, and the tone, and tried to figure out exactly what it meant, as Widowmaker brought up her rifle, pre-evaluating the new range configuration through her sight, so calm, so cool, so much the same as last time, but something about her ever so slightly different, ever so slightly more present to her, ever so slightly more... real...

Emily started, looked closely, and looked again, her head tilted, just a little, and her breath caught in her throat. She's... it's like she's... almost... glowing, in the sunlight.

She shook her head as the starter buzzer sounded and Tracer blinked ahead, then looked back down to the design rev on her screen, and then back up to the sniper, and a layer peeled back, almost, of reality, and sunlight or no, it didn't make any sense - they'd even been sharing a bed, occasionally, for a while, and it had been comfortable enough, but she didn't really feel anything, even if the Frenchwoman was a quick student of, of, of, and then Emily couldn't think at all, she could only see, see the spider, the sniper, her wife's lover, the woman, just standing there, and yet glowing, eclipsing the entire world, and everything else, everything, everything else, even Emily's breath, fell away to nothing.

My god, she's beautiful, she realised, the thought electric across her skin. How have I never... is this... is this what Lena sees, looking at her? She dropped her stylus, as time slowed to a stop. Is this... how does she do anything, if this is what she sees?

"Twenty five seconds," said the counter.

Widowmaker lowered her rifle, and looked to her left, seeing Emily's eyes, locked on to her, her mouth, slightly open, and she raised an eyebrow and smiled, just a little.

"How..." Emily whispered, "...have I never seen you like this, before?"

"Quoi?" asked the spider, friendly, but bemused.

"This is mad, but... no, it's not, but..." She put her face in her hands for just a moment, and looked up again, past them. "I've... never really seen you this way, before. You're always gorgeous, but... when your rifle is up..."

"Twenty seconds," said the counter.

"...you're stunning."

Something unabashedly lethal deep inside Widowmaker rose and preened, and the sniper smiled, broadly, despite herself. "That... I should be conflicted, in some ways, about that, but mostly, I feel..." She thought, looking around for the word, an emotion she did not often experience, "...proud? Honoured? Perhaps both. That you see me for what I am, and are not afraid." This is a strange combination of emotions. I will have to process them carefully, she thought. But, softly, she simply said, "Thank you."

"Fifteen seconds," said the counter.

"But, but, but, it's like, it's like..." Emily knew the spider sometimes needed brutal directness to understand. Normally, that meant discussion of negative emotions, but this time... "It's like you're... the only thing in the world. Is this how she sees you?"

"I have no way of knowing," Widowmaker answered quietly, fascinated. "She has not said so, not in those words... but, of course, the first several times, she mostly saw me down the barrel of my rifle. So, perhaps, she does."

"Ten seconds," said the counter.

"May I... touch you?"

The spider's head tilted, a little unsteady, a little uncertain. "Yes. But... now it is different. Why is it now different?"

"Because... I don't know. Because I don't know." She set aside the laptop and stood, stepping over to the woman she'd seen and held so many times before, but never like this. "May I?"

"Yes."

"Five seconds," said the counter.

She reached across, stepped close, and touched the blue woman's chin, cupping it in her right hand, and looked into those bright gold eyes as the spider unepectedly leaned forward, and kissed her, gently, as the start timer sounded, and as she raised her rifle towards the range, and shot the first two target robots, disabling both with one shot, without even looking.

Emily looked in the direction of her fire, a little stunned.

"Perfect," they both said, in unison.

Widowmaker's head jerked back to Emily, and Emily's gaze flashed back to Widowmaker, just in time to see the assassin's wide-eyed astonishment. "Perhaps... we have more in common than I once thought."

"I'd like that." It felt like a prayer.

The sniper smiled wickedly, eyes bright. "So would I." She raised her rifle again, and fired, taking out the next three targets in rapid succession, before launching herself into the arena with her chain, leaving the engineer behind.

Emily watched her fly out over the range, thinking, How does she do that? as the sniper took out two more targets from midair. It frightened her, more than a little, but excited her, more than a little, too.

She sat back down at her laptop, still watching her wife and her wife's lover, teleporting and chaining around, closed the main project, and opened another - a design for a new type of antigrav airfoils, all her own.

Wow, she thought, dazed, gaze flipping between the airfoils and the range. ...I think we finally did it... She shivered, breath quick. And, she laughed, quietly, a little out of control but she didn't care, I think... I may've just fallen in love with a spider.