#first omnic crisis

[overwatch-archive]

Ramattra: Reflections

Author: Gavin Jurgens Fyhrie Artist: Sylvain Decaux

Philosophical Differences

4 Years Before the Uprising

"You're a Ravager unit, right?" called a human behind me, and I froze, hands shaking beneath my robes.

The village beneath the Shambali monastery had barely changed since my last visit. A few cheery repair shops and tailors along the main road, specializing in robes for omnic travelers. In the alleyways and backstreets, shuttered shops. Mining offices. Humans drinking on doorsteps, watching the occasional omnic pass them by.

A handful of years ago, some of those same humans had knocked me to my knees and nearly killed me.

I turned instead to the human who had called me by my designation, fists clenched in my sleeves, and said nothing.

"Thought so," said the little shopkeeper happily. "Haven't seen one of you in a while. The news said you were all in hiding."

"Or dead at human hands," I said.

The human's smile faltered.

"You aren't a popular bunch. Not that I'm saying it's right," he added hastily. "But . . . what with everything you—and I don't mean you exactly—did in the Crisis, you, uh . . ."

I waited, then reluctantly came to his rescue.

"Make humans uncomfortable?"

"Exactly," he said, relieved.

Uncomfortable enough to justify violence, I thought. I should have been angry with him. Instead, I was weary. I'd had this conversation so many times.

"Can I help you?" I asked. The words were a relic of Mondatta's careful instruction.

"No," he said, "but I can help you! Thing is, I got a new shipment of actuators in for your kind. Can get you a nice discount, seeing as you're part of the Shambali and all."

He smiled. Warm gold flashed at the back of his grin.

R-7000s, unlike many other omnics, were never made by human hands. The rogue god program Anubis, the architect of the Omnic Crisis, built us in secret places and unleashed us upon the world. We were designed to lead its mindless armies, to hunt humans. We were made for murder.

There was only one way that spare parts had become available.

"I'm no longer a monk," I said. "I left the monastery today."

"Is that right?" the merchant said, glancing past me, down the street, down the mountain. I heard footsteps scraping on pavement. "Why?"

Because Mondatta places the burden of peace on the oppressed and not their oppressors.

"Philosophical differences," I said instead. "It seemed best. "

"Well, good luck to you, and safe travels!" he said. "You there! Welcome to the Shambali monastery."

I turned. A weary omnic pilgrim, stained orange by dust, scarred and dented, stumbled up the road past me. Seeing me in my robes, he lowered his head in respect.

The pain of it, the shame. The sight of me told him he was on the right path. I fought the urge to tell him that he wasn't. It wouldn't make a difference, even if I did.

I watched the shopkeeper come off his step, chattering, bundling the traveler into his shop.

Greed. Yet another of humanity’s crimes, but hardly their most terrible.

I sighed and continued down the road, down the mountain, away from the monastery.

And from my brother, Zenyatta, with whom I’d spent these last three years dreaming of peace.

Names

3 Years Before the Uprising

Two human guards blocked the windowless cell door. Both had stun batons, and a pistol hung from the hip of the larger man.

"I'll give you one chance to run," I said, hoping they wouldn't.

Some segments of humanity had decided that despite the Crisis, despite sentience, their former omnic servants were still their property. That our status as independent beings was somehow still a subject for debate. Hence facilities like this one existed, where omnics were kept until they decided that service to their former masters was the best use of their long lives.

Since leaving the Shambali monastery, I'd rooted out several identical operations, but there were always more festering. I'd come here hoping to free my people as quietly as possible. Unfortunately, after encountering the same injustice over and over again, my patience with peace was wearing thin. I'd gotten angry, thrown a man through a window, and here we were.

The first guard swung his baton. It bounced off my chest with a pop.

I took a step toward him.

Pale, he dropped the baton and went for his gun. Behind him, the other human struggled with the locked door, trying to escape. Or maybe to take a hostage.

Damn it.

I slapped the gun out of the guard's hand. As gently as I did it, something snapped. Again, I felt the ghost of guilt, the mournful weight of Mondatta's eyes on me. And following that, anger. Oppressors did not deserve the gift of our guilt.

The door flew open, and the other guard barreled through. Electrical light flared again, and someone screamed.

"Remember that I could have killed you," I told the human on the ground and plunged through the door to disarm the guard.

Oh.

The bald man already lay facedown on the tile, unmoving. His clothes were smoking in places. It wasn’t at all clear if he was breathing.

"I know who you are," came a voice from the corner of the small, bare room.

"Do you?" I asked, honestly curious. The omnic was a rarer kind, highly customized with features I thought hadn't survived the Crisis. Slightly shorter than myself, but blue-eyed and with ears rather like a slender humanoid rabbit. Made as a companion for children, if I remembered correctly, with a built-in battery for charging devices and taking pictures.

"Yeah, they said. You're the R-7000 who's been freeing omnics. Some of the others were hoping you'd make it here."

"But not you?"

"I can take care of myself."

The human made a burbling sound somewhere near my feet.

"I believe you," I said. "What did you do to him?"

"Electrical burst. Not a big deal."

"I think he'd disagree. So why haven't you escaped on your own?"

The omnic huffed. "And leave my friends behind? Waiting for a rescue that might never come?"

"I'm here now," I said, a little puzzled.

The omnic shook their head, thoughtful.

"Your model bossed us around in the Crisis. Sent us to die before we even had a thought in our heads."

My hand twitched at my side, but I nodded.

"So, is that what this is?" they said. "You still have a taste for glory? Ordering your soldiers around?"

"Do you still follow children around like an obedient pet?" I said, more sharply than I'd intended.

They half chuckled. "Fair. But the point stands. Our people are waiting for a savior when they should be saving themselves."

I agreed with this. It's why I was here. I'd seen enough in this year on walkabout to know that most of our people rested on the hope that Mondatta and the Shambali would save them. It seemed the truth—that no one was coming, that the people themselves needed to rise—was too much to bear.

But here was this omnic, saying the words that my mind had been shouting.

"And if they die?" I asked.

The omnic cocked their head.

"We're still at war," they said. "Didn't stop because the Crisis did. Difference is, humans are still organized. We aren't."

"Not yet," I said. The words felt like a promise. "Introductions, then. My name is Ramattra. Yours?"

"Don't have a name, don't want one. Call me Nameless if it gets awkward for you. What's Ramattra mean?"

"I chose it to honor the first of our kind and kept it to remember my mistakes."

"Huh," said Nameless. "If you're breaking everyone out, I'm coming with you."

"Beg pardon?"

"We should get Zera next. You'll see why. And if we're banding together, we need a name."

"Isn't that hypocritical?" I said dryly.

They snickered.

I glanced at the omnic's flank, at the scarring there, where a model number, a designation, had once been.

If I could have smiled, I would have.



Weapons of War

2 Years Before the Uprising

I led the three of them across the valley and down into the metal gateway, half-buried by thick slabs of ice and stone. We were silent as humans in a graveyard, and for much the same reason.

We reached the bottom of the gateway, a metal platform sheathed in ice. I turned to Lanet.

I could sense her mind racing ahead of mine, studying what little technology was visible of the facility at this level. I was a passable engineer, but she made me look like a human child playing with blocks.

"I know where we are," she said. "Unorthodox architecture. Lack of human safety features. Built by machines for machines. Similar to your design aesthetics."

She looked up.

"An omnium. Built by Anubis." Silence.

I laid a hand on the platform controls.

"For years we have tried nonviolence, coexistence with the humans, only fighting the worst forms of our oppression from the shadows," I said. "And we are losing. It is time to try something new."

I activated the platform, and with a jolt, we descended into the frozen darkness, through a shaft of ice.

"Of all the omnics I've brought into Null Sector," I said, "you are the ones I trust the most. And so . . . this is where I was designed and built. This is the cradle of Anubis's most dangerous secrets."

The corridor fell away, and they saw the vast underground factory.

"Humanity denies us equality because they have so successfully stripped us of our power. They made us forget that, when united—even if united against our will—we once brought them to the brink of extinction."

This was the world my maker had made, and together we would use it to forge a new future.

"It is time we inspire our people to find that unity again."



Rise Up

4 Days Before the Uprising

"Ramattra," Lanet said, using that tone again.

"There is no time," I said, pacing across the omnium's control center. Below, the assembly lines labored, building our robotic army.

"What do you mean, there's no . . . we're following your schedule!" she shouted, pursuing me, throwing her arms in the air. "You can attack any city anywhere, and you're choosing King's Row and choosing now, and I'm telling you the robots you're getting from the lower levels of the omnium aren't ready. They're old, Ramattra. They're obsolete."

"You think you can design better soldiers than Anubis?"

"I hope so, because we want to win, and your maker lost."

I gripped the edges of the table to calm my temper. She was infuriating because she was so often right, but she was wrong now.

"We can't afford to wait for better soldiers. Look." I activated the bank of screens before us. Images and footage from London appeared, gathered over the years our cells had been active there.

Omnic laborers trudging in a single-file line to their work, watched by armed human guards.

"Next feed," I commanded, and the image changed.

A hundred of our people lying in a locked basement. Their home, at the end of a thankless day.

"Next feed."

A scrapyard. And there, discarded like the trash humans thought we were—

"We know," Zera said. "She isn't saying we shouldn't fight."

I flinched. It was the same thing I'd said to Zenyatta when we'd met, and not long before I'd nearly gotten him killed.

"Give me and Nameless a week," Zera continued, taking my silence for hesitation. "My cell can take down their power grid and water supplies, and Nameless's shadows can seize the tunnels. Kill anyone stupid enough to go down there. Once they're weakened, you come in with your robots, and we'll take the borough. Maybe more."

I met Nameless's blue gaze at the corner of the room. The omnic who knew me better than anyone, save for my brother.

"You know we're right," they said. "We built the resistance there together. Let the people be a part of it. Let them be the ones to rise up, like we always dreamed they would. An invasion won't inspire them—it will scare them off."

I hesitated again.

"No," I said at last. Beside me, Lanet struck the table with her fist.

"Ramattra, these robots are mindless drones. They're outdated! They're—"

"Expendable," I finished. "And you are not. Our people are not."

Lanet's eyes flickered.

"Fine," she said. "But I'll be in the city, overseeing the deployment and watching for malfunctions, and you know I know better, so stop arguing."

"Fine," I said. "You'll stay in the Underworld, where our defenses will be strongest."

After a moment, she nodded, and I relaxed a fraction.

"During this uprising, we will show the humans we are stronger than they thought. We establish a stronghold in one of their cruelest cities, and we make a safe place for our people. We will show omnics everywhere that now is the time to join us. That is the goal."

I turned back to the footage of the scrapyard, where too many of my people lay.

"It is time for omnics to discover who Null Sector truly is."

The Greatest Crime

2 Days After the Uprising

"A small group of omnic terrorists, calling themselves Null Sector," said Mondatta sorrowfully on the screen before me. The human reporter on camera nodded with theatrical sympathy as my former master continued. "The monks of Shambali condemn this attack on London. We seek peace with humanity, not violence."

My eyes fell again to the words scrolling beneath his image.

NULL SECTOR RINGLEADER KILLED DURING POWER PLANT FIREFIGHT.

Fury descended. I remembered omnics sitting meekly in their cells, waiting for freedom. The vast rolling scrapyards of the dead.

And now, Mondatta dishonoring Lanet, who died fighting to free her people.

Someone was shouting. Someone was striking the screen with their fist.

Someone was begging me to stop.

"Ramattra! Please!"

I spun around, fist raised, and Zera stood motionless, making no move to defend herself. Nameless, far off in their usual corner of the too-empty room, looked up from their screen to stare at me, hard, and I froze at the pain of what I'd nearly done. The shame.

I looked up at the cracked screen. Bracketed by the damage stood Mondatta, flickering and still, naming us traitors to the omnic people.

The hypocrisy.

"Do you know," I muttered, "what humanity's greatest crime is?"

Zera stared down at me, shaking her head.

"I've had enough," she started, but I didn't let her finish. I flipped back around to face her, the anger surging through me again.

"Complacency!" I shouted. "They desire peace above all, and so they ignore injustice because it is more comfortable to do so. They want to believe tomorrow will be better simply because they hope it will be. Humanity will never help us. They will try to sell us a small place in their world, or at best, ignore us. And they have passed their weaknesses to him."

I pointed back at Mondatta because I couldn't bear to look at him again.

"He holds himself above us. Like Anubis, Mondatta is sending our people to their deaths. He must pay for this and—"

"Ramattra," said Nameless, speaking at last. "I'm checking reports. A lot of omnics are condemning us."

I put a hand to my forehead. My thoughts felt hot, poisonous. I had to say them aloud before they turned on me.

"If omnics are choosing death," I said carefully, "we must take that choice away."

My friends said nothing at first.

"What does that mean?" asked Nameless flatly.

"It means that I will build the army Lanet wanted," I said. "And then we will find a way to save our people, whether they want it or not. Whether they deserve it or not. If they will not willingly join us, we will find a way to make them."

"Ramattra, this isn't the way," Zera said, striving for calm and failing. More omnics will join us once the dust settles.

"They had their chance, and it cost Lanet her life."

Zera's giant hand closed into a fist at her side. "You freed us from a prison, and now you want us to put our people in one?"

"If that's what it takes to make them listen!"

Nameless uncoiled from their corner, eyes burning.

"You told me," they said, their voice low, a warning, "you told me this wasn't about control."

"Look at us," I snapped. "Fighting humans in bodies they shaped for us. Inheriting their flaws, their pointless disagreements. It doesn't have to be this way."

"It isn't your decision!" Nameless shouted back. "And I won't be part of it!"

"Then leave!" The words shot out of me, and I couldn't take them back.

Nameless straightened.

"Fine," they said quietly. "I've been away from my shadows long enough anyway. Coming, Zera?"

"Don't," I said.

"Then don't do this," Nameless said.

"You'll understand once I'm done."

Nameless came to me and patted my hand, a human gesture. It was infuriating.

"I hope you understand one day," they said, "that you didn't have to fight alone."

And then Nameless and Zera were gone.

I stood in the deepening silence a moment, feeling the absence of my companions, the impossible weight of metal and ice and stone above. A grave for our dream of peace.

And then, I got to work.

[dedeuteros]

Wip! be the change you want in the world make the content u want to see (omnic crisis bonds and friendship, these three having a drink between assignments and getting a little sillaayy. Not pictured, Torbjorn and Dr Liao squabbling over some hypothetical)

[eulogium-red]

i'd like to see more of the theme of "family" in overwatch. we see it a lot with ana & fareeha, ram & zen, brig/torb/rein/bastion, genji & hanzo. but those are the obvious ones between playable characters. the ones that are much more clearly written on the wall, even once-in-a-blue-moon players could pick up on. much else is hardly focused on despite how much family (or a lack thereof) has shaped many of the character's lives & identities for better or for worse

i don't like how martina & the unnamed reyes kid are only mentioned in passing, despite gabriel himself visiting often unannounced. clearly they were an important part of his life. clearly, family is an important part of his life — i'm very willing to wager that small passage about the death of his parents in declassified was written very intentionally. his complicated relationship with death, and how it was further affected by his own "death," & how he's now in some warped reversed position with his new family. but we don't get much more than a few voice lines about martina (is she even mentioned by name in-game orrr am i not remembering?)

i want to see how ashe manages the gang throughout the second omnic crisis. or perhaps we could see her mannerisms slightly change with bob. maybe instead of standing side-by-side with him as she is in the reunion cinematic, she puts herself more between him & potential unrealised threats. or maybe she subtly tries to nudge him under awnings whenever she spots ufos, weary they're housing subjugators — little things that are very intentional. maybe her demeanor tilts ever so slightly from confident but guarded, to guarded but confident.

i want to get a better picture of the role sam english played in fareeha's life just from playing the game, especially after ana's presumed death. i want to know more about their relationship other than the christmas dinner they had. i wonder how many players just assume fareeha's father died young, or assume the writers didn't care to write one at all? for a long time, i thought the former. i wonder what sam thinks of some of fareeha's closest friends — has he met cole & angela? what does he think of helix? we hardly even see fareeha's native heritage expressed other than the two skins off the top of my head

what about cassidy & echo? i know this is a more implied one, but cassidy was the first one to nurture her "childlike intelligence." even today, he guides her — he encouraged her to help winston&co at paris when he was still on the fence. one of the cutest things for me is her enthusiastically shouting "hello winston!" mid-battle, presumably not long after cassidy told her to say hi. she probably would've either way, but i also don't want to discredit the role cassidy has had on her development & i really do want to see more of them

or, speak of the devil, how winston views everyone at overwatch as family. how in watchpoint: gibraltar's 1st defense spawn, you can see the little beds he set up for lena and mei, how you can read an email as proof he got the blankets from a small kids blanket business. the way he keeps photos of the gang, years later. how vehemently protective he was of all their locations. i wish we could see it reciprocated a little more, i wish we could see individual sleeping areas for other heroes as the story progresses, or more items on his desk. & that's not even getting into hammond

& i don't think i can have a family post without mentioning dad 76 or how i desperately want to see benicio being the best supportive dad for lúcio more but honestly i'm getting pretty sleepy so either i'll add more later or someone can add more.

depending how you stretch the definition of family here, it can include other dynamics too. baptiste finding a new sense of belonging in the new overwatch, or mei braving the antarctic to not let her team's death go in vain & to help people who can still be helped — from jiayi and her team still on mars, to the people who now need her help on earth. i'd also argue hana's squad in korea. what are niran's siblings up to? are we gonna see more of efi & orisa? moreover, how are all these non-playable side character characters handling the invasion? i guess we got some texts between lena and emily

family is such a powerful motivator, but can also be really complicated, as seen with the amaris and shimadas + kiriko, i wish we got a similar amount of investment some other places too

a major theme of overwatch is moving towards the future, progressing in some way. & that looks different for everyone depending on their emotional readiness to do that, and what they view "progression" as. so it makes sense a lot of characters don't look back on those they lost along the way so much, at least not too openly (zarya comes to mind), but that's what can make their present relationships with others that much more worth preserving & seeing

probably an impossible ask of a game feeling the effects of layoffs that's primarily focused on pvp/bp/shop items but ykn

thank u for coming to my tedtalk

[froggibus]

Mako Voorhees - Roadhog

Pairing: slasher! Mako Rutledge x gn! reader

Genre: angst?

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: your summer job at Camp Crystal Lake takes a dark turn when the camp security officer snaps

CW: semi au, Camp Crystal Lake exists in the OW universe, slasher! Roadhog, murder, violence, blood, fear, general horror things, not proofread

hey hey!! this is based on this wonderful art by @jamiesmeatshop !! slasher aus are very close to my heart but i hardly write them :,) i very very much wanted to turn this into smut but I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfy with that ! hopefully this isn’t too weird ^^ also just lmk if you don't like this & i can untag you/take it down!

Lightning cracks across the night sky, illuminating the dark rain clouds overhead and splitting them open. Thunder roars and then the rain starts, torrential and cold. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, rushing down the path as it turns to mud beneath your sneakers. The rubber soles of your shoes slip-slide, threatening to send you careening face first at any moment, but you don’t stop. 

The second one of the old, beaten cabins comes into sight, you’re ducking inside and slamming the door behind you. Your hands tremble as you force the lock shut, letting your back rest against it while you catch your breaths. 

Your head spins, thoughts flying so fast it’s dizzying. One minute, everything was fine, and the next, you were finding one of the other counsellors nailed to the bathroom door with an axe. 

Lightning crackles once more and you’re suddenly acutely aware of an approaching shadow. You scramble to your feet, awkwardly stumbling to a small gap between a bunk bed and the wall. You just barely manage to squeeze in, the wood scratching your back as you slide down the wall. 

God, you should have never taken this job. It was meant to be easy money for the summer—all you had to do was watch a few kids, run some activities, do a couple chores. You never would have expected for it to turn so sour, so vile. 

You’d heard the rumours long before coming here. The irradiated grounds of Camp Crystal Lake had been a bloodbath long before the Omnic Crisis—with stories of missing campers and brutal murders. It was all chalked up to folklore, though, silly stories locals told to deter businessmen from reopening the camps. 

If only someone had listened. 

The ground rumbles, the sky lights up once more with another bitter streak of light, and suddenly the shadow is right outside the door. Looming is the only word that comes to mind. The shadow is looming and you’re well aware that the person to whom the shadow belongs must be equally as large. 

You swallow, all of the breath leaving your body at the first sound of someone trying to break down the door. You shrink further into your hiding spot, praying to any god that will listen that no one will find you here. 

The old wood of the door whines as it’s hit harshly once more, the rusty lock clicking in warning. You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself as another hit lands. Then another, then another—and suddenly the door is bursting open, crashing to the floor in a mess of splinters. 

The floor shakes with heavy bootsteps. Loud, breathless pants fill your ears, echoing off the walls as if it’s taunting you. Your fists clench and you dig your nails into your palms as hard as you can. Pleasedontfindmepleasedontfindmepl—

There’s a loud, gritty laugh. A familiar loud, gritty laugh that has your blood running as cold as the rain outside. The footsteps get closer, his shadow casting across the wall. 

You force your eyes open and squint into the darkness, clamping both hands over your mouth when you see the machete in his hand.  

One more step and another lightning strike and suddenly the face of your attacker is revealed. Covered in blood, dishevelled and muddy and heaving, is Mako. Though he’s tried to cover his face with a hockey mask, it’s unmistakably him. 

You’re almost grateful for the paralysis your fear has granted you, if only because it’s frozen the tears in your eyes. Not him, anyone but him. 

He lets his machete drop to the floor, the metal screeching against the wood as he drags closer and closer to you. You try to press yourself further into the wall only to find there’s nowhere to go. You’re stuck. 

Fear and anger and fucking disappointment burn in your chest, the roar of it all drowning out the sounds of his approach. Mako was supposed to be the camp security guard, the person to turn to when you heard strange noises in the dead of night, but first and foremost, he was also supposed to be your friend. 

A shiver runs up your spine when he stops directly in front of you, his eyes scanning the room. You squeeze your eyes shut once more—as if that will keep him from seeing you—and try to still the heavy breaths in your chest. 

He steps forwards, continuing on his path, and for a second, you think you’re in the clear. A shaky exhale leaves your lips. 

And then he’s spinning around, his eyes falling on you. A dark laugh fills the room, that deep chuckle you once thought endearing making your blood run cold. You can’t see his face behind the mask, but you can almost see the twisted smile on his face. 

“Found you.”

Despite your wishes, your whole body trembles. Every muscle in your body cowers before him, surrendering you before you’ve even gotten a chance to fight. Your lungs greedily gulp in air, the inhales and exhales only seconds apart. 

You have no choice but to watch when he takes a booming step towards you. His grip on the machete in his hands loosens and you wait for him to lash out, to strike. And then he does something that surprises you even more—he drops it. 

Your brows knit together in confusion and for that second and that second only, your breathing evens out. Your eyes stay locked to him, tracing every flex of his muscles as he keeps coming toward you. 

“What’s wrong, little mouse?” 

It’s impossible to tell if he’s taunting you or not, the gravelly tone of his voice almost drowned out by the thunderous roar of the rain outside. You press your lips together in a tight line. 

He stops a few feet away. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

An easy breath leaves your body when you realize he’s being serious, a glimpse of the old Mako behind the mask. One of his large hands reaches up and tugs the mask up, letting it rest on the top of his head. 

Blood splatters his face in the pattern of the holes on the mask, like the wickedest polka dots you’ve ever seen. You swallow hard at the sight, your stomach churning in response to the blood that you know belonged to counsellors just like you. 

“I—I don’t believe you,” your voice is meek. 

He only smiles at that, reaching out a hand towards his machete. He picks it up slowly and you cringe, bracing yourself to meet a horrible demise. 

“You don’t have to,” he says nonchalantly. He twists the machete around, passing you the handle, “but a man’s gotta have a partner.”

masterlist | overwatch masterlist | art inspiration

if you like content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are greatly appreciated!!

[leorawright]

The omnics finding out that their human crush fought in the omnic crisis on the side of the omnics?

Of course! *I'm adding Maximilian and Lynx because I count them as omnics

Also, this is my first request in a while, so I might be a little rusty.

Omnics with s/o who fought on the omnic side

Zenyatta

It wasn't too hard for him to tell, and he's glad you don't have a bias against omnics

If you have any battle wounds for your time spent fighting sometimes he'll trace them with his fingers

He's glad that you've accepted omnics as a part of this world because it just makes him so much happier to be around you

Ramattra

His crush on you just grew so much when you tell him that

He fights for the rights of his people and knowing that you believe the same is enough to make him blush (if he could)

Also, if you chose to fight with Null Sector, he's basically going to become your shield cause he refuses to let anyone hurt you

Maximilian

He's incredibly intrigued and honestly, a little happy when you tell him this

While he is a part of Talon, he still wishes sometimes that he could live in a world where there was peace between humans and omnics and when he meets you, that wish only grows

If you're still fighting for omnics he's very worried about your safety, even if he doesn't show it

Lynx

They're not a super big fan of fighting, but knowing that you don't have a deep seated hatred for omnics is definitely nice

Not much really changes in you two's relationship, but still, knowing you don't hate their kind makes them happy

Also, if you're interested, they're happy to teach you how to hack but it might be more difficult since you're not an omnic but they'll still try

[darling-answers]

It’s for your fluff month

But maybe a nervous partner on their first mission with Cassidy? :))

Day 2

First Mission

“ Cole Cassidy and — you both will be taking over the mission of stacking out a Talon Shipping facility. We have gotten some news that there would be major product there for Talon use. From our insource tonight the products if talon gets there hand on it there new weapons there manufacturing will become even more powerful. We need to stop them from getting it and stop the production of more dangerous weapons.”

Sojourn explains what the mission was, all Overwatch agents stood around a table that showed a big explained digital picture of the manufactured weapon and the parts the product needs to be fully complete, another side of the map showed the full shipping container layout. Details on how to get inside had been littered all over the screen as sojourn made sure to point at the valid checkpoints.

Standing there was awakes everyone looked so excited for the mission so happy to be there and worked for there dream job of being in Overwatch. There situation and your situation was on polar opposite while most joined to help the community and also to prove Overwatch could still be in it glory days helping people as much as possible the circumstances was different.

Living in a small town the Omnic crisis hit hard for you and your family. Food market prices went up with the house, bills were higher than ever and barely living could be expected. It was to much for your family so for the sake of your family you had joined Overwatch a small international group to help defeat the bull sectors but also the on growing assault of talon. Because just living isn’t enough to survive you had to you myst fight for your family.

When sojourn looked at you for confirmation on wanting to do the mission it was not just an ask it was more of a request from her, do the mission to help out more people. Sojourn had put you with one of her most trusted and best agents. With the connection of her friendship with The old Gabriel Reyes she had buried a lot on the cowboy and his ideals. When she saw you nodded your head she gave a relief sigh satisfied that you had agreed to do the mission.

After each mission from small missions to big missions each and everyone had there own part that they had expected to get completed wanting a successful but also understanding if the mission didn’t come out well was assign you were left in the mission brief room, staring at what you were asked to do. Your brain nagged on you.

‘why did you even accept this mission, what were you even doing in Overwatch, there were many things that could go wrong many people who could be such more better.’

You let out a small huff rolling your eyes as someone who hadn’t walked out and watched you silently gave a slight cough. He had a cigarette in the left side of his mouth taking a few deep breath before blowing out the smoke from his lip. He gently push the bud into an ash tray as he slowly walked over to you. Bowing his hat he gave you a cowboy curtsy.

“ You must be the new Agent, My name is Cole, you can just call me Cassidy whatever fits your role.”

How could you not know the infamous cowboy not only was he a severe problem and vigilante back when he formed a deadlock gang with one of the most wanted criminal in the west. But he was also in Blackwatch a side group of Overwatch that worked in secret that Did stuff that Overwatch couldn’t do publicly. It played by it own rules. He seemed to have a genuine kindness unlike how he was portrayed among Media and his dark persona. 

He grins as he saw you reach your hand out for a shake. Grabbing your hand in a firm grip he shook it, he felt the small trembles in your arm as his head tilt as he looks at the mission brief.

“ don’t worry, these missions are more simple even if they seem more severe, it important but easy so don’t worry.”

He gave another small cheeky smiled as his eyebrow raised a little. He had notice the anxious expression you had even if you tried to hide it, your body language proved his point in every other way, his hat came over his forehead as he followed your body language. Placing a hand on the hilt of his belt he tried to sooth the worries.

“ if your that worry about it sugar, stay by my side and i will make sure not a finger is touch on you’re head take your time. I have heard from Vivian your skills are almost unmatched so let me see those to use when your on the battlefield. While I protect you from any actual harm”

He gave a firm pat on your shoulders warm hands instantly engulfing your shoulder as he soothed all your worries. His smile was that of a morning sunshine. A promise was one he knew he couldn’t break not after the anxious smile you had shown. He intended to keep that small promise he had made to you.

“ Thanks.. I appreciate your comfort and I will try to do my best.”

He nodded at the more postive aspects of your words. What was there to worry about when you had such a good looking cowboy in your team and one that was so kind to remind you why you were decided to join Overwatch and how you contribute to the team. Your skill was something to look forward to, he was excited to see your skills on the battlefield.

How could anything go wrong?

As you were sent off to bed to get a goodnight rest for the mission tomorrow thoughts scrambled in your brain, of not only failing among the mission but not being good enough or making high expectations for Overwatch. Your heart tighten and the hours rolled by either faster or slower, it was all such a blur.

Stumbling among the aircraft. The aircraft was one used by many agents but this time as most agents were going on this mission it left you and Cassidy in your assigned spots. Pictures on eachother seats of either family and friends you made along the way. setting your stuff down on the seat next to you, it almost seemed to be you caught up in a daze on why you even accepted this mission again. You didn’t know what to say or do or how to act. How could you truly get through nightmare that you put yourself in.

But when the cowboy who sits across from you flashes you an infamous grin and gives you a look of such confidence of your ability.

A relax expression came upon your face. Your brain instantly flooded with words of affirmation.

‘You got this, you have worked to hard to quit now, there nothing to stop you so push yourself forward.’

[ovwechoes]

‘Home’ Headcanons - Tank Edition This is a continuation of the headcanons I made a while ago about what the supports would say home means to them, and what that would look like for them but this time with the tank heroes! My asks are open and any/all requests are welcome - enjoy <3

Akande Ogundimu / Doomfist: If you asked Akande where home was for him, or what he thought of when he hears the word home itself, he would tell you it doesn't yet exist. For him, in order to feel at home, he would need total power and domination. On the other hand, the idea of home is for the weak, in his eyes. Akande views the concept of having somewhere as a safe or comforting place as an acceptance of weakness, and he doesn't want to indulge on such pitiful endeavours. 

Hana Song / D.Va: Hana's home is with the MEKA squad back in Korea; she misses them and the work relationships she had before joining Overwatch. Sure, the connections she has now might be up to par or better than the ones she had whilst working with the MEKA squad, but there's something comforting about thinking back to that time when she was mainly concerned with protecting Korea as part of their first lines of defence. She misses the culture in Korea too, the spotlight of her celebrity status there, and misses the connections she had whilst working there. It's always going to be her home, even if things have changed since the last time she was there.

ORISA: Orisa's home is Numbani, it's all she's ever truly known and where she was created. She likes to imagine herself there, when she's away. She takes great pride in her country, often gloating about it to others when they try to speak ill of it. Numbani will always be important for her and, if she had it her way, she would die protecting it.

Odessa Stone / Junker Queen: Home for Odessa has been long gone since she was barred from Junkertown, maybe even before that. She misses the outback of Australia, before the riots and the Omnic Crisis. She misses being a young child, able to explore the streets of her home town without worrying about toxic gases or nuclear explosions going on nearby. She wishes sometimes, that things were different and she could return to that state in time. However, she's learned that without that happening, she wouldn't be the woman she is now, so Odessa's grown to move on and learn to love her new home. She values Junkertown for the experiences it gave her, but she'll never truly feel at peace or comfortable knowing how she was treated as a child by the king previously.

Maugaloa Malosi: For Maugaloa, his home is American Samoa - it's more than just a destination for him, and he'd tell you that if you asked him this question. Samoa, for Maugaloa, is important to him and makes him feel accepted, seen, loved and welcomed. The traditions, family connections, cultural values, etc. all are things he truly appreciates about his native country. On the other hand, he might tell you he feels most at home in the wrestling ring, and if he could have it his way he'd still be competing while working for Talon even with his genetic alterations. Being able to show off his physical prowess makes him feel unstoppable, and wrestling was where he was able to do this the most.

Ramattra: Ramattra would tell you point blank that Earth will never have a home for him. He knows that even with laws and regulations passed that would encourage humanity to open their own homes for Omnics to reside with them, there would still be prejudice, power imbalances, and a general feeling of discomfort knowing that humanity could switch at any second regarding their standing on omnic rights. Ramattra is willing to make a home for him and his people, though, even if he has to force humanity to give them one. No one deserves to feel like they aren't safe or comfortable anywhere, and Ramattra will use any means necessary to create a world where him and his people don't feel this way any longer.

Reinhardt Wilhelm: Reinhardt's home is with the crusaders, it's where he felt his most confident and most able in life. He misses his youth, and often looks back on the fonder memories he has of his time with the crusaders. It's important to him, and ever since his mentor, Balderich van Adler, passed away he hasn't been able to feel at home since. The closest he got was when first working with Ana, learning to let someone into his life again, spending nights dancing under the moonlight with her. Otherwise, he would tell you that he's too old to consider such nonsense now. 

Mako Rutledge / Roadhog: Similarly to Odessa. Mako would say his home was the outback before the omnic crisis. He's an indigenous Australian, and so he misses being able to visit places that have cultural significance to him without the after effects of the omnic crisis lingering over those places. It's not something he concerns himself with anymore, and it's something he's grown too stubborn to thing about. He likes to consider himself a nomad, having no specific place that ties him down anymore. It's something he thinks to cope with the fact that a lot of his cultural roots are gone, and all that's left is wasteland.

Siebren de Kuiper / Sigma: Siebren's home would definitely be in the stars, analysing their behaviours and watching as they move through space and time with admiration. Siebren has always had a fascination for space, and has always looked to the stars and galaxies for explanations that Earth itself cannot answer. He enjoys thinking about when he dies, that he'll be within the stars at last and fully comfortable to be himself. It's something he's happy to talk about, so long as something doesn't distract him in the process.

Winston: Winston's home is with Dr. Harold Winston on the moon when he was an infant. He misses Harold a lot, and wishes to have that father figure around still who could be proud of the work he's completing with Overwatch. It's something he looks back on with fondness, but he still considers Overwatch his home as well. Winston feels as though his purpose that Harold helped him realise and grow into is finally realised through Overwatch and the work that's being done on missions. It helps motivate him, and remind him of where he came from vs. where he is now.

Hammond / Wrecking Ball: Hammond's home is in the fighting ring, showing off his skills and his expertise in destroying other opponents. He finds the limelight incredibly fulfilling, and it helps motivate him and feel integrated into the world. He'll never admit this, claiming he doesn't know what home is or what humans consider home. Hammond certainly doesn't consider Lunar Colony his home, after what Winston did to him.

Aleksandra Zaryanova / Zarya: Aleksandra's home is Russia, and always will be. She loves the culture, the way her country fought so fiercly against the omnics during the crisis, and loves to tell people who've never visited the best places to go. Sure, she's not happy with the corruption in the government, and how her brute strength was manipulated far after the omnic crisis, but she still feels as though Russia is where her heart belongs, and she values the life lessons that her experiences there brought her. Like Orisa, she would happily die protecting her country, and that's something Aleksandra would always believe and feel.

[rhamrhanch]

Shepherd of Death, Don't Herd Me

Part One: Humble Awakening

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (gender-neutral pronouns)

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort

Next Chapter // Masterlist

Summary: You were just an engineer. That's all you ever wanted to be. But after a chance encounter with the leader of Null Sector, you soon find your simple life crumbling to ash.

A/N: started writing a Ramattra fic and thought I should post it here as well. hope you enjoy!

chapter under the cut ↓

---

The room was too quiet, you thought.

With omnics, there was always sound. The gentle drone of their fans, steady as a human's heartbeat. The grind of metal when they moved.

No such sounds could be heard now.

Your pistol sat heavy against your hip. By all accounts, you were safe. Yet still you hesitated, resisting the urge to stroke the crumpled exoskeleton of the omnic slouched before you. You had never tinkered with this model before, unsure whether even the gentlest touch may rouse him. Considering the identity of your companion, it was not an irrational fear to have.

But as you took in the state of his body, that fear dwindled more and more.

Half of his face plate was missing, jagged edges rippling down to his chin as though it had been torn off. A camera-like eye stared through you, unfocused. Where a right arm should have been, there was only an empty socket. A gruesome scene of carnage, were he formed from flesh and blood.

You reached out to his thigh, slowly, cautiously. Your fingers met the rough leather there, rising over the ridges of crushed metal underneath.

The reports you received after debriefings had few pictures, but there was one that stood out to you. It was clear in your memory, the image of his silhouette. Tall and broad-shouldered, with dark cables fanning out behind him like a mane. His crook in hand likened him to a humble shepherd, yet he stood proudly, dignified as he beckoned to his flock with arms spread wide. You had always thought he cut an imposing figure.

Seeing him like this now felt… strange. Wrong, in a way.

Your nails caught on a spot on his hip, halted in their path up his broken body. You peered closer, seeing the small imprints of numbers—his manufacturing date. It was scratched out, something else carved beneath it.

You tested the name in your mouth, letting it roll over your tongue.

Ramattra.

---

It was meant to be a simple mission—well, as simple as Overwatch missions could be.

Remnants of Null Sector's presence lingered after its attempted invasion in Gothenburg. In response, a few agents were dispatched to "clean up" the area, culling any Nulltroopers that remained. After a few days, everyone who had stayed behind received word that their fellow agents would rejoin them in Gibraltar soon.

A week had passed since then in radio silence. You could tell it worried Winston. The banana peels scattered around his office indicated as much. But suddenly, without warning nor explanation, the wayward team returned—battered, but alive.

All was well, you had thought, until Reinhardt dropped a mountain of metal at your feet, and you realized it was a miracle they returned at all.

"An R-7000!"

For as long as you had been an engineer, just seeing an R-7000 in person was a dream come true. They were so scarce these days, nearly hunted to extinction. Killed at the hands of humans in retribution for the war.

You had no memories of the Omnic Crisis, born at the tail end of the war and left to clean up the pieces. Even so, you knew the stories.

R-7000s.

Ravagers.

Squad killers.

A rare class of omnics designed by an artificial mind in its first act of creation. You yearned to understand it, to witness the way a machine engineered itself. To reach that level of efficiency, no material wasted, no part unnecessary or unused. It was an ouroboros of invention, something created with a single purpose. You had no choice but to admire it.

"Impressive, ja?"

You craned your neck up at Reinhardt. There was an open gash on his forehead, dried blood painting a red stripe down to his chin. It stained his teeth as he grinned proudly down at you.

“What happened?”

Winston shuffled over, straightening his glasses. “I'm just hearing the details now. It seems they ran into him while on the way to the pickup site.”

"'Him'?" You cocked your hip and glanced at the omnic on the ground. "Who is he?"

A pause. "The leader of Null Sector."

Your head darted back to the mangled omnic in disbelief. You hardly even recognized him in this state. “What? Why would you bring him here?"

Winston cleared his throat. “As you can see, the encounter has left him quite… damaged.”

Damaged was one hell of an understatement. Your eyes roamed the omnic's body, taking inventory—what needed to be replaced, what couldn't. After a beat of silence, you realized the veiled request in Winston's words.

“You want me to fix him?" There was an unspoken question in your tone: why? But Winston only nodded. You didn't press any further; his lack of an answer was answer enough.

"It might take a while. He is missing an arm.”

“Take your time. He won't be going anywhere anytime soon.” Winston’s expression turned stern then, and you straightened up instantly. “I know this is a lot to ask, but we can't lose this opportunity. Let me know the moment he wakes up.”

You nodded slowly. With a parting wish of good luck, Winston turned to help unload the ship. You waved over Reinhardt, who slung the omnic over his shoulder with ease and followed you out of the hangar. Danger or no, you would not let it deter you. This was the first opportunity you’d been given to work on an omnic in a long time, and on a Ravager no less. You refused to waste a single second.

---

Now alone in your workshop, you could admit the truth—you hadn't the faintest idea where to start.

You knew just from a glance it would be a difficult fix-up job, and that was assuming you had materials at your disposal. Reality was much more sobering. Ever since the recall, a free-flowing wave of supplies was a fool’s wish.

You would have to make do.

While the rest of the damage would be no easy feat, what concerned you most was the state of the Ravager's—Ramattra's—chest plate. His metal exoskeleton completely caved in, likely the result of a blow from Reinhardt’s hammer. Repairing it would be invasive—you may even need to separate the cage from his body entirely.

Slowly, you placed your palm against the center of his chest, feeling the warped edges of the metal there. Looking at it closely now, it almost resembled a sternum. It fascinated you, how similar the design of Ramattra’s body was to your own. Your hand traveled across his upper chest as you mapped the parts you recognized.

Sternum, collar bone, shoulder…

You let out a quiet breath. It was no wonder Ravagers were so terrifying during the Crisis. But as you gazed at his face plate, caressing the ridge where it splintered, you couldn't help the gradual sorrow that tightened in your chest. How many of his model had been destroyed since then? Were there even others left?

You searched through the mess on your workshop table. During your exam, you noticed that his chest plate had multiple layers. External armor secured at his "sternum," four steel rods extending outward from the top, while an iron rib cage curled from the bottom. To fully assess the extent of the damage, you would need to go through the tedious effort of removing all the parts individually.

Crowbar in hand, you returned to the Ravager. You slotted the tool into the gap between his sternum and the rod that protected his upper chest, pressing down firmly. The plate gave slightly—you pushed harder. A click rang out in the silence as the piece loosened, and you smiled to yourself. Brute force was always reliable. Perhaps not the most elegant approach, but effective nonetheless.

You worked at a moderate pace, the palm of your hand aching from where the crowbar pushed against it. It wasn't long before the last rib was released, and you could finally access his chest plate. Your earlier fatigue forgotten, you immediately set about loosening the screws that held it closed. By the end of the entire process, a thin sheen of sweat had formed on the nape of your neck.

Finally, the panel opened, fanning outward from the middle as though a blooming flower.

The inside walls of his chest were a map of circuits. Wires snaked in and out of his machinery, threaded through actuators and sensors like vines. Hydraulic cooling fans sat below a row of black cubes—multiple power units, you realized. There were so many more parts, some you didn't even recognize, and you wanted nothing more than to stay there all day and analyze each one.

But then your eyes fell on a cylinder nestled in the center of his chest, and you realized you had made a horrible mistake.

Ravagers were of the commander class of omnics, designed with physical combat in mind. This much you knew. Omnics that were humanoid in shape had their central processors in their heads, but a location like that in an omnic crafted for battle was dangerous. Those kinds of omnics would house their central processor where it could be well protected—a place with fortified shielding and a large surface area to disperse force.

And if you were an intelligent AI focused on maximizing utility, you would have programmed those omnics with a failsafe—some method that enabled them to protect the most vulnerable part of their body, in the event their system was otherwise compromised.

A hand shot out toward you before you could even blink, seizing your throat and dragging you to the ground. You couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. A red glow lit up Ramattra’s face plate as the once sleeping omnic rose, hauling you up with less effort than one would a sack of flour. But before he could reach his full height, his legs faltered beneath him, forcing him to sag against your workbench. You dipped lower with the movement, the tips of your boots scraping the ground but doing little to relieve the intense pressure on your jugular.

“What…” His voice came out garbled, as though run through mud. “…have you done to me?”

Your hands clawed desperately at his hold, attempting to pry his fingers away from your throat, but it was useless. All the muscles in your body could hardly hold a candle to the strength that poured from his hand alone as he squeezed the breath from your throat.

As you fought for your life against the brutal might of his grasp, you couldn’t help wondering how many kilograms of force his grip strength boasted. 100, maybe 125? The lack of oxygen to your brain sullied your ability to approximate considerably.

He seemed to realize you were suffocating, if only indicated by the way his thumb dragged up the tender skin of your throat and under your chin, forcing your head to the side. You gasped raggedly as air scraped into your lungs, making you cough. At least you could finally breathe—all that was left to do now was grab your gun, and this ordeal would be over.

Yet your hands did not move from where they wrapped around his wrist. You knew you had to, knew that every moment you waited narrowed the only opening you had. But before the synapses could fire for you to even think about reaching for the pistol at your waist, he dug his thumb under your jaw, hard, and you yelped in pain.

“Answer me, now.”

“Repairing… you,” you choked out. “I’m… an engineer—”

“Lies!” he hissed. His hand was a vice grip now, your pulse pounding in your ears from the restricted blood flow. “My chest is flayed open by your hands. Tell me the truth, human!” He practically spat the last word and yanked you closer, forcing a grunt out of you as your neck jerked up with the motion.

Your vision went fuzzy at the edges as your hold on consciousness weakened even more. A frightening thought ran through your mind at that moment.

I'm going to die here.

With the last breath you could manage, you muttered, “Taken by… Overwatch.”

His hand loosened. You slipped from his grasp, collapsing on the floor in a fit of hacking coughs. It hurt to breathe, your body instinctually rejecting the gulps of air you forced into your lungs. You weakly pushed yourself up on trembling arms, chest heaving as you struggled to recover. You had barely caught your breath when he grabbed you by the front of your coveralls, pulling you face-to-face.

“Where am I?”

“Gibraltar," you coughed.

He was silent, his exposed eye dilating and contracting as it studied your face intensely. You weren't sure what pushed you to speak again. A desperate last attempt for your life, maybe?

“Your voice box,” you whispered. His eye froze. “I can fix it.”

A sardonic chuckle rumbled from his chest, scratching your eardrums. “Do you really think I would let you anywhere near me again?”

You cleared your throat, trying to maintain an air of authority and pretend that your offer was not made on a whim. “I specialize in omnics—I can help you.”

“All the more reason not to trust you.” His harsh rebuff came out a growl, rippling with static. “You know better than anyone how to kill me.”

“But I haven’t.” Well, you'd thought about it. But he didn't know that.

For a moment, there was only the hum of his auxiliary vents—a death knell you knew you were not the first to witness. You braced yourself, waiting for him to fold your skull in on itself like it was made of paper.

The grip on your coveralls slackened. Your hands barely shot out in time to catch yourself, head immediately snapping up only to watch him sink back down to the ground.

“Fine, human. Let's see if your words match your will.”

[wildissylupus]

Can we get some OW New Blood headcanons? Whether it be some type of angst, heartfelt, or lighthearted interactions between the group.

Ask and you shall receive!! It's been awhile since I've done some New Blood stuff so let's see what I can do. Let's start off with some head canons first.

The New Bloods are the biggest human help in getting Zarya to unlearn her prejudices against omnics, it's mostly by telling her their own experiences with the Crisis (and with Hana it's her experiences with the Gwishi). They also call her out if she does or says something in line with her prejudice.

Cassidy is giving them all stealth training cause holy shit he cannot be the only person on that team who knows how to stealth, Baptiste is close but Cassidy knows that Talon stealth training is not going to cut it.

On top of that Cassidy is also giving specific training to D.Va so if she has to fight outside of her Mech he knows he can handle herself.

All of them know about Pharah's crush on Angela, either being told by Pharah herself or from Cassidy complaining that Genji and Pharah are hopeless at romance (he's been dealing with this for a max of 14 years at this point, he's allowed to complain)

They are all in agreement that if they are on a mission in a Talon base, they need to steal as much equipment as possible, mainly focusing on medical supplies.

They all make strategies on how to best use their skills together. They also sometimes include other agents abilities as well.

Pharah is the least foul mouthed of the group, only really swearing outside of missions, the rest? Not so much. By far the people who swear most often are Cassidy and D.Va.

----------------------- Cassidy: So I hear you you and Angie where around each other a lot while she was in Cairo, anything happened? Pharah: We just... hang out, spent time together, nothing other then what we would usually do before. Cassidy: ....Fareeha it's been fourteen years, for the love of god please make a move that isn't just flirty banter. ----------------------- Zarya: I don't understand how you have so many fans. Why do people like to watch you play games that they can play themselves? D.Va: The same reason why people play the Olympics and other sports, cause they like to see other doing something they love! ----------------------- D.Va: Ok so what if I initiate Self Destruct and you shoot them when they get behind cover! That way no matter what we're still hitting them. Cassidy: I don't know, might be able to hit some of them but I doubt it would be worth riskin' the Mech. D.Va: Oh, OH! What about if Niran launches you into the air and you shoot them from above! Cassidy: Hey...That ain't half bad! ----------------------- Baptiste: You know, you should really get some rest, it's not good to overwork yourself. Pharah: Have you been talking with my mum? Cause if she did you should tell her to take her own advise. Baptiste: No, no, I noticed it myself. Though I do think it's funny that both Ana and Cole seem to have the same issue as you. Pharah: Well, it kinda runs if the family. ----------------------- Pharah: Hey Cole, did I tell you that Jean thought we were dating? Cassidy: Ew, what?! What made you think that?! Baptiste: You two just seemed to have a lot of history! I was curious! Pharah: Yeah, it was our history that made you curious, nothing else more personal. Baptiste: Fareeha, I swear to god- ----------------------- Pharah: You know, you and Brigitte remind me of Cole and Angela when they were younger. D.Va: Ugh, Cass said the same thing, but I know I'm way cooler then he is! Pharah: HA! He would have said the same but trust me, it's a compliment.

[tendebill]

drew the ow strike team as paladins of voltron, because i am normal about them :]

(2 other versions and a fucking essay below the cut!)

ok so im gonna give my reasoning for each of them

Reinhardt - the easierst to pick, the Yellow Lion is the most tank-like (besides the Black Lion, but thats cuz Black is the head + torso), also i think the legs of voltron are supposed to be the "pillars" that allow the team to work well, without them the whole thing crumbles (literally). from what i recall from the actual show, the Yellow Paladin is protective and loyal. Rein was the easiest to match up tbh (plus even the color fits lol)

Torbjörn - not my favourite choice, but tbh i dont think any other lion fits him? besides maybe Yellow, but Rein was too perfect so i couldnt give Torb that one. anyway, the Green Lion is the left hand. i consider the legs to be the "pillars" holding up the team, whereas the arms are the actual damage-dealers/the ones that act on what the leader commands. and as Torb is a dps, that fits just fine. hes not quite a leader, so being the left hand instead of the right is good. plus the Green Lion is inquisitive and curious, and since Torb is a genius, that fits just fine too. i thought he would look weird with green, since i associate him with red-orange-yellow the most, but he looks kinda nice

Ana - i was originally gonna make her blue from the get-go, but i thought it'd be silly to make the remaining three switch lions a bunch, so i can get an excuse to draw Gabe and Jack in multiple suits lmao. but Ana starts out as red, the right hand of Voltron, described as the most temperamental and aggressive. it requires a paladin that can keep up with it and works on instinct most of the time. i feel like Ana would have to BECOME the motherly figure for her team, instead of being one from the start. with that i think she would have been a more "lone wolf" type at first, only later on becoming more mindful of her teammates and how much they need her, which would lead to her becoming the paladin of the Blue Lion - a pillar that keeps the team going along with Rein, a vital part, but no longer in a leadership position. i've seen the Blue Lion described as a "free spirit" too, which i think is also perfect for her :3

Jack - for him i had three options, all of which fit him well: blue, red and black. and instead of picking one, i decided he was going to have three different lions :))) for shits and giggles. so he starts out as blue, a free spirit, very versitile (from what i gathered, the Blue Lion doesn't have a specific "thing" it specilizes in, but instead does a little bit of everything, kinda like Jack). i imagine Jack was the middle-man, an integral part of team-building. he would have been the one to push everyone to work together and follow Gabe's lead, but he was content being on the sidelines most of the time. eventually he takes up more responsibility, sees that he's vital for the team and that he can do more working side by side with Gabe, and so he becomes the paladin of the Red Lion, Gabe's right hand man. then he of course slowly grows to be the actual leader, as Gabe's approach changes and he slowly abandons his original role, passing the command over to Jack. and so Jack's last lion is the Black Lion. also i feel like all three lions fit Jack's color scheme pretty well, so that's another win for me hah

Gabe - since he was the original Strike Commander, i thought it only natural that he would be the first to pilot the Black Lion. the pilot needs to be decisive, stay cool in the face of danger and be someone whose men will follow him into battle with no hesitation - all traits that i see Gabriel would have had to have during the first Omnic Crisis. like i mentioned before, Jack eventually becomes his second in command, and then slowly their roles start to shift. Gabe is no longer content in making decisions for the whole team, he probably also becomes more violent and reckless, relying on Jack to keep him in check. he loses his connection with the Black Lion and becomes the paladin of the Red Lion, Jack's right hand man. the traits of Red fit him well too - aggressive, relies on instinct, temperamental, plus i imagine Gabe is the type to want to get things done as quickly as possible, no matter the risk, to save more people faster. plus, again, the colors match up yaaaay!

fun fact: i never finished watching voltron ^^

also i am truthing anahardt and reaper76 as we speak

[ya-zz]

Really love your ram! I love the 'fixed the broken' it touched my heart with many fluffiness to the point that I could faint 🥺. So please I would like to request for (fluff) ramattra and the reader, every time it rain they would coincidentally meet each other at the same shelter or different one each time or both, it could be funny that way too! Up to you :)

hhhhhhh I fucking love soft Ramattra just as much as the next person.

Apologies it took awhile to get to, but hey, a nice double upload today!

Ramattra x reader (gen)

Word count: 1173

It was the same shit just different day. Having to travel to work early, and then travel home late made you wonder whether or not the job was even worth it; and let’s not talk about when the rainy weather would hit, whether light or a storm, you would still push on in. 

But, despite the travel, despite the weather, you enjoyed the job. Repairing omnics was something you had grown to do, even more so after the crisis. You wanted to do what you could to help, no matter how small it may be. 

The walk was worth it though. The scenery in Nepal was everything you had ever wished for. The omnic village was accommodating, human travellers passing occasionally, however you were the more frequent visitor. The omnics there welcomed you each day, passing ‘thanks’ and ‘have a good day’ whenever you walked past. They were more like a family then your own family was. 

Today, however, the rain was coming down hard the moment you had finished work. After closing the workshop, locking the shutters and hiding under the provided shelter, you sigh. Looking across the street, watching the puddles grow larger by the second, you zip up your coat only to realise there was no hood. 

Can it get any worse…?

With a slightly more irritated yet defeated sigh, you walk out into the pouring rain and begin the journey home. The rain pelted your face, soaking you in moments as you walked. Down hill was going to be the trickier part. Having no grip on your shoes and rocky terrain, it wasn’t exactly the safest for walking. Keeping close to the wall, you hold on, hoping to not slip and end up at the bottom. While it would be quicker, the bruises and possible painful injuries weren’t going to help you repair omnics. 

It was a slow and careful descent, one where you kept your eyes on the ground, rather than in front of you, but the moment the ground levelled, you took a breather under a nearby shelter. 

The rain was still coming down hard as you leant against the withering wood frame of the shelter. With your arms crossed over your chest to keep warm, you watch the rain, listening to the sounds. The wind blowing it in every direction but also shaking the leaves above. Thunder rolled in, making you step back further into the shelter.

“It is not safe for you to be out here.” A voice called out, making you turn quickly. 

You reply back whilst looking over the omnic. “Neither is it for you.” 

He goes to speak once more but holds himself back, instead moving further into the shelter.

There was an eerie silence as the two of you stayed under for awhile, letting the rain pass. You stayed quiet, watching the rain lighten up before you deemed it safe enough to wander back out and home. 

The omnic doesn’t say anything, waiting there a little while longer as he watches you leave. He wonders where he had seen you before and then it clicks. This wasn’t your first encounter with him. It was the second and he never forgets a face. 

Last week you were resting under the shelter not far from the repair shop reading. He had stood near you, not wanting to disrupt you, but the moment you closed your book and looked up at him, the smile that embraced your face engrained itself into his systems. 

He had hoped to see you again and his circuits warmed when he did. 

And again when he saw you a few days later at the same shelter. It wasn’t raining this time, but it was cold. His temperature was keeping him warm, circling that heat around his chassis, but he could see you were shivering. 

The winter weather was brutal, your gloves and scarf were merely decoration. The sudden drop in temperature meant you weren’t prepared at all, having to grab whatever you could find within the workshop before you left. 

“You should hurry home.” The omnic spoke out, stepping under the shelter. 

“I would, but I’m too cold to move right now.” 

“You will freeze to death if you stay out here any longer.” His optics scan your figure, noting the shivering and your temperature lower than normal. 

“I wasn’t prepared for this drop in temperature.” You speak between shuddered breaths. 

He looks ahead, a slight nod. “It was sudden, yes.” 

You hum in response, tucking your hands into your pockets. 

“How far do you walk from here?” He asked. 

“About forty minutes.” 

For once, the omnic felt concerned. “There is a tea house that is closer. Perhaps you should rest there and warm up.” He points back towards the village as you look up at him. 

“Maybe I will. Thank you.” You smile up at him and step out from under the shelter. 

“Ramattra.” He calls out, causing you to stop and turn to him. “I am Ramattra.” 

He noticed your smile again as you spoke. “[y/n].” You bow your head slightly. “It’s a pleasure to put a name to the face.” 

“I agree.” He hums, watching you turn and scurry off back to the village. 

–

There was a long while before Ramattra saw you again. Part of him hurt and he was confused as to why. He has never felt this way before, especially for a human. The moment he saw you under the shelter not far from the decline, he wandered over, staff in one hand while he raised the other. 

When you saw him approaching and waving at you, you returned the gesture, waving back and smiling. 

“We have to stop meeting like this?” You joke, watching as he stands next to you, closer than he has ever done before. 

“Who is to say that this is not my favourite part of the day.” He looks down at you from the side, a chuckle escaping his vocaliser.

“Oh stop it.” You laugh, cheeks blushing ever so slightly as you stare out into the rain. 

“It has been awhile since I last saw you.” He states. 

“Late night repairs.” You sigh softly. “There’s been a lot of trouble recently.” 

The omnic nods. “I have heard. I did not think it would be that bad.” 

“I’m the only one around here capable of fixing omnics, so they all come to me.” 

“Would you require assistance?” Ramattra asks. 

You look up at him, smiling gently. “Company wouldn’t be so bad.” 

The omnic laughs, something he had not done in a long time. “Then perhaps I will meet you tomorrow, at the workshop this time.” 

“Yeah… I’d like that.”

Ramattra nods, the same warmth circling his chassis as he looks down at you smiling up at him. From chance meetings at the shelter, the omnic was glad there was a human out there capable of emotions and caring for his kind. He wanted to know more about you, to help you. 

He wanted to be with you longer.

[overwatch-archive]

FADING GLORY: ON THE TRAIL OF JACK MORRISON

Olympia Shaw | July 6, 2015

I remember the day Jack Morrison died. It was the day the world lost a hero.

Like other members of the so-called "Overwatch Generation," I spent my childhood looking up to Morrison. He taught me that heroes were real. He made me believe that even I could be one. When he died under mysterious circumstances six years ago, I felt as if a part of my childhood died with him.

The details about his death have always remained few and far between, a strange fact, given that he was such a public figure. Maybe that's why after all this time, I find myself looking back at Morrison's life and asking the big question: what really happened to the man who defined my generation?

Traveling through rural Indiana, I find it easy to forget that a monumental figure like Jack Morrison came from such a tranquil, time-lost place. A sea of green and gold cornstalks stretches from horizon to horizon. There is no wind, no sound save the buzz of a few lonely insects. On the rare occasions when I cross paths with other living souls, they describe young Morrison in different ways. He was a rambunctious youth. A humble, salt-of-the-earth farmer's son. But these people all agree on one thing: Morrison was never destined to live out his days in the land of rolling plains and deep blue skies.

At eighteen, Morrison packed his bags and joined the military. He had planned to serve a brief stint in the armed forces and then return home to the family farm, but his work ethic and courage caught the eye of the military brass. Before long, he earned a coveted position in the government's controversial and still-classified (but widely acknowledged) "soldier enhancement program." Military scientists shaped Morrison and other inductees into the perfect soldiers, blessed with superhuman speed, strength, and agility.

Morrison and his fellow augmented soldiers would soon put their abilities to use with the advent of the Omnic Crisis. Across the globe, the omniums went rogue and churned out legions of militarized robots. The world reeled at the appearance of this new enemy. The omniums and their robot populations had originally been built to bolster manufacturing and create economic equality worldwide. Now, these marvels of modern science sought to overthrow the human race, posing one of the greatest threats to the survival of our species since the Cold War of the 20th century.

"Even I had my doubts about whether Overwatch would succeed, but Morrison never gave up hope. He didn't just meet our expectations for what Overwatch and its agents could achieve; he shattered them."

As governments tried and failed to neutralize the machines, the United Nations was busy forming an international task force called Overwatch. This small, experimental group would bring together the best and brightest from around the world to wage asymmetrical warfare against the robots. Overwatch's short list of prospective agents included two members of the soldier enhancement program: Morrison and Gabriel Reyes, a senior officer. Reyes, a hardened and highly respected veteran, grew up about as far from rustic Indiana as you could get—the sprawling urban melting pot of Los Angeles. Despite their differences, the two soldiers became friends. Their decision to join Overwatch together would change the world, for good and for bad.

Leadership of Overwatch fell to Reyes, but Morrison would have a greater impact on the group in the long term. He brought out the best in the people around him and helped mold Overwatch's diverse (and sometimes conflicting) agents into a cohesive fighting force. In unity, they found the strength to defeat the robots and end the Omnic Crisis.

"Even I had my doubts about whether Overwatch would succeed," UN Under-Secretary-General Gabrielle Adawe, one of Overwatch's key architects, said shortly after the end of the Omnic Crisis. "But Morrison never gave up hope. He didn't just meet our expectations for what Overwatch and its agents could achieve; he shattered them."

The UN rewarded Morrison for his contributions by making him Overwatch's first official commander. Reyes was passed over in the process, and it created a rift between the two men that would lead to tragic consequences.

After the Omnic Crisis, Overwatch experienced a meteoric rise in prominence. New funding and resources gave the now-public organization far-reaching global influence. The world celebrated Overwatch's agents as heroes, but none more so than Morrison. He became the face of Overwatch, a symbol of hope and promise, from the cobblestone streets of King's Row to the sweltering night markets of Bangkok.

Strike Commander Morrison envisioned a bright new future for humanity. Under his leadership, Overwatch served as a global peacekeeping force and an engine for innovation, making advances in scientific fields as varied as space exploration and medical research. But even as Overwatch grew in power, Morrison stayed dedicated to the people around him. He trained new agents, instilling in them Overwatch's noble goals and ideals. At Morrison's memorial service, Reinhardt Wilhelm, one of the group's original members, said, "He devoted everything he was to Overwatch. He was our moral compass. Our inspiration. Our friend."

Morrison and his peers ushered in an unprecedented era of peace and prosperity, but it was not to last. Two decades after Overwatch ended the Omnic Crisis and saved humanity, it was brought to its knees by a series of shocking allegations: negligence resulting in high-profile mission failures; corruption and mismanagement; weapons proliferation; human rights abuses; and more.

A special UN committee launched a lengthy and highly secretive investigation into the claims. This inquiry would lead to the dismantling of Overwatch, and its once-beloved agents would become objects of derision and suspicion in the media. But before all of that could happen, another tragedy would rock Overwatch and serve as the troubled organization's death rattle.

As the UN investigation proceeded, Overwatch's Swiss headquarters was destroyed in an apparent accident. Among the casualties were Morrison and Reyes. The UN has steadfastly maintained that there was no foul play behind this event. However, an anonymous source has given me access to classified UN debriefings and other data that paint a different picture of Overwatch's final days.

"After Morrison's promotion to strike commander, his relationship with Reyes changed. The tension became more pronounced as time went on. I tried to mend things. We all did. Sometimes when the closest bonds break, all you can do is pray you stay out of the cross fire."

These records indicate that a rebellion tore the group apart from within. On one side was Morrison, determined to hold together what remained of Overwatch. On the other side was Reyes, whose agenda remains unknown to this day. A battle raged between these men deep within Overwatch's base. At some point, their fighting triggered an explosion that destroyed the facility and sent the dreams of an entire generation up in flames.

According to Overwatch's former agents, this outcome was inevitable. "After Morrison's promotion to strike commander, his relationship with Reyes changed," Dr. Angela Ziegler, medical director of Overwatch, stated during a UN committee hearing. "The tension became more pronounced as time went on. I tried to mend things. We all did. Sometimes when the closest bonds break, all you can do is pray you stay out of the cross fire."

The UN data goes on to disclose something even more disturbing: Morrison's body was never recovered.

This revelation could explain a recent string of high-profile robberies and attacks that have dominated the news. A masked vigilante whom authorities have named "Soldier: 76" is considered the prime suspect in these incidents. In addition to bombing corporate offices and financial institutions in the United States, this individual has breached a number of former Overwatch bases. Soldier: 76 has stolen valuable technologies from these sites, including experimental weaponry, causing untold damages in the process.

I've heard my share of theories that Soldier: 76 is Jack Morrison—theories I once would have discounted as fiction. But based on everything I've seen, I now believe these claims are true.

UN officials have declined to comment on Soldier: 76's identity. However, security personnel who were present at the former Overwatch base break-ins described the attacker as someone well versed in covert ops tactics. Surveillance footage of Soldier: 76 shows him performing superhuman feats of strength and endurance. At my request, noted forensic expert Amir Nejad, PhD, analyzed this footage. He determined that Soldier: 76 is precisely the same height and build that Morrison was in his last public appearance.

If Soldier: 76 is indeed Morrison, what is he doing, and why?

The veracity of the allegations leveled against Overwatch years ago remains a point of contention. Some historians and political pundits have questioned the motivations of those who first made the corruption charges against the group. Is Soldier: 76 on a mission to avenge the fall of Overwatch and restore its name? Is he trying to uncover a vast conspiracy that discredited and destroyed Overwatch? Or is he simply a bitter old soldier, clinging to lost glory and fighting a phantom war that he believes is still raging?

Even I, a child of the Overwatch Generation, know that the more altruistic of these scenarios are the stuff of fantasy. Soldier: 76's reckless activities, his willingness to put the lives of innocents at risk, prove that he is not driven by noble intentions. He is just a man acting in his own interests, another villain in league with the despots and international crime lords who terrorize our communities on a daily basis.

Standing before Jack Morrison's grave in Arlington National Cemetery, I'm reminded of rural Indiana's quiet serenity. Like the sea of cornstalks, neat rows of ivory tombstones seem to go on forever in all directions.

In this place of reflection and bittersweet remembrance, I realize all the more that Soldier: 76 is not the Jack Morrison I knew from my childhood. The Morrison I knew wouldn't hide behind a mask. He wouldn't plant bombs and steal weapons while the world suffered through another year of war and heartache.

That Morrison was buried here six years ago. All that's left is the shadow of the hero we once knew.

[ornii]

The Soldier of Fortune

The Omnic Crisis

Twenty eight years ago, the world faced its first true ultimate threat. Omnics, created by humans, rebelled against their creators and plunged the world into a war that would only last two years but cause irreparable damage to society. But the entire crisis was halted in the final days of the end, by a single Soldier.

Overwatch Base, 28 Years Ago.

A Single soldier was taking a few jabs at a punching machine, delivering powerful but heavy blows to the sack of sand. One final swing knocks the bag back almost off its chain. The soldier was in his late twenties, nearly the age of 29. He gripped the bag to keep it from swinging. He was your average soldier built, strong, well built and tall. What made him different was his left arm, from the elbow down it was entirely cybernetics. Losing his arm serving his country turned him into a Hero. But why join overwatch if everyone already adores him? Simple, the adventure, the potential fortune, that’s who he is: The S.O.F.

“Finally done?” A Voice asks him, he sighed and turns around, a lean, beautiful figure was standing in the doorway of the training Hall. Long black hair, gorgeous bronze skin, an illustrious Egyptian tattoo right under her eye. Ana Amari.

“Well if it isn’t Miss Crackshot, having fun with them butting heads?” He says, and begins to unwrap his arm. Ana sighed and scowled.

“No, they’re still going on about the plan, guess you’re the Tiebreaker.” She admits, (Y/n) smirks and walks over.

“Really? Reinhardt and Torbjorn are at heads? What about you?” He asks her, Ana kept a stern face.

“You know my thoughts on it.” She responds, (Y/n) smirks. “That I do…” he trails off, (Y/n) breaks the awkward silence and walks off, “Well. Let’s go join the circus.” He heads down the hall, past soldiers and recruits to the officers deck, and can hear arguing from the door.

“I sometimes wonder if that armor slows your brain down!”

“And I sometimes wonder if your height is why you’re always in a bad mood!!”

Reinhardt and Torbjörn are arguing about armor schematics, but more importantly was Reyas and Jack.

“This plans a suicide missions!” Jack said.

“We’re soldiers Jack, it’s what we do! We have a chance to put the crisis on ice permanently and you won’t take it!” Reyas yells at Jack.

“I won’t ask soldiers to die for what could or couldn’t work!” Jack argues, the two turn to see the soldier.

“Having fun?” He smugly approaches and the two get a bit more professional.

“No, Jack won’t green light the operation. This is our change to rid the Omnics of a primary factory and halt their invasion.” Reyas explains, (Y/n) ignores him and walks to the table. Pressing a button on the display it shows the schematics and blueprints for their plan.

“So, run it by me again?” (Y/n) asks. Reyas goes first.

“One of the Omnics biggest factories was deep in the heart of the North Pole, a perfect place for them. Little heat to avoid melting, a perfectly cold place to produce mass machines, but there’s one thing. The factory was built on a large foundation of ice, and its slowly melted away.” Reyas explains, (Y/n) rubs his chin looking at it all.

“So, we sink it.” He said, “Precisely.” Reyas said. “We plant thermal charges on weak points in the foundation, it explodes with enough force to crack the ice under it send it plunging into the ice.”

“And we’d put an end to their Plan.” (Y/n) nods, “So, why haven’t we?” He asks.

“Ask Jack.” Reyas prods, Jack swaps the display to the explosives.

“The power needed to blow the foundation isn’t your normal thermal charge, the ice needs to be absolutely thrashed in order to force it to collapse. We have the power but we’d need to get someone to carry it, get it to the heart, set the charge and escape in time, it’s suicide, too many things could go wrong that could result in a needless death.”

“I can do it.” (Y/n) said, which caught everyone off guard. Ana turns to him, shocked.

“You can’t be serious…” she says. Even Reinhardt and Torbjörn were taken aback.

“You’d agree? It’s suicide! You’d be walking into a cold death! Torbjorn said.

“Possibly, but we could also put an end to the Omnic crisis before it could take any more lives, I say my life is worth that.” (Y/n) turns to the exit, “I’ll be prepping for launch then.”

“You aren’t going alone!” Reinhardt storms over, “We finish this! As brothers!” He said proudly, Ana quickly chimes in, “Me too.. I refuse to allow you to do this yourself.”

“Then I have a three man Cell, Jack?” He turns to the leader, the determination on the three heroes was more than he could handle.

“…Fine.. no heroics this time. Get the job done and that’s it.” He orders, and Operation Silver Ice, was ago.

(Y/n) entered his quarters to suit up, dawning the overwatch tactical suit and uniform, his classic Tactical Ion energy Rifle and ammo to pack, his ears pick up to the sound of footsteps at his door and it opening. Ana was awaiting once more. This time with a much less enthusiastic look.

“Already packed?” He asks, lacing up his boots.

“No, I’m telling you what Jack Said, no Heroics.”

“I heard him.”

“Doesn’t mean that you’ll listen… for me, please.” She said, (Y/n) stopped and turned to her, he saw the desperate look in her eye, Ana has lost too many people, too much of her life she spent killing and watching others die.

“I could never say no to you, fine… after this, you’ll finally stop rejecting me and let me take you somewhere nice? Italy? France? Germany?” He winks, Ana’s cold demeanor melts to a sly grin.

“Fine, we can put this all behind us, now finish up, this’ll be the last one.” She walks off, and the trio prepare for Operation Grey Ice.

The trio trudge up a frozen taundra of ice and snow, the blinding polar night with the biting wind made travel hard for the trio, but eventually the darkenss looms even closer as red begins to fill their visors.

“Heat signatures located, we’re here… remember the plan?” He asks the Two Reinhardt laughs. “Of course! We sneak in and plunge their little factory into ice! First we need, distraction!”

“Uh huh, alright.. after we do, follow me.” (Y/n) said, he aims his arm, and the Nanotechnology begins to form the arm into a hand cannon, with one shot he lobs a Molotov like explosive near the base, it flies over the large wall and explodes in the lower corner of the building, the Omnics soon begin to clamber to stop it from causing any damage to the base, the trio then take the front entrance and rush in, avoiding detection and entering the base, somehow, even with Reinhardt clunking around, reaching the lowest depths they entered the core or the “Heart” of the factory. A large reactor with multiple heat sinks that lead to exits all around the base. Reinhardt drops the large bomb and (Y/n) and Ana begin to prep the explosives.

“How much time with the distraction give us?”

“Should be more than enough to—“

“It’s not enough!” Reinhardt yells, (Y/n) turns around to see Omnics tracing their snowy footsteps.

“Damn. Ana finish up the explosive! Reinhardt?” (Y/n) ordered

“You need not ask Friend! Let’s crush them!” Reinhardt charges in with his Hammer and swings, each hit turning Omnics into scrap metal! (Y/n) loads his rifle and begins to mow Omnics down. His arm opens up And rockets fly from it. They continue to keep the Omnics off guard. Allowing Ana to finish up the touches, until a laser blast from an Omnic shatters a device on the bomb!

“(Y/n)! We have a problem! The timer it’s..”

before she can speak she rolls and aims her rifle, blasting a hole though an Omnic. (Y/n) and Reinhardt leap behind cover and the trio come up with a plan.

“Bombs not going to go off now… unless we trigger a manual override. Reinhardt, Get Ana out of Here..” (Y/n) smug attitude turns dead cold as he begins to pick off Omnics. Reinhard nods and picks Ana up, putting her under his massive arm.

“Reinhardt?! What are you doing?!” She yells, he runs off and kicks the grate to one of the large Heat sinks and the rush off. (Y/n) rushes go the bomb and begins to override it, lasers and bullets fly around and near him. He keeps his head down to avoid it getting blown off.

Reinhardt Carries a fighting Ana in his arm.

“Let go of me! Dammit Reinhardt I have to save him!” She yells, Reinhardt keeps a stern face under his helmet.

“Let him go, don’t you see Ana? This is him, a soldier risking his life. If you go and die saving him. You’re spitting on his name, to risk your life, in order to save millions, that’s a true soldier! Do not sully his name.” He said, Ana was actually taken aback by his words, and could only look back at the base.

(Y/n) finally was preparing the charge before a blast hits him right in the back, he falls forward behind cover and is in bad shape, feeling the Omnics close in, he only has one plan left.

“Overwatch, activate override code 04-N11, Clearance level Omega.” He leans against a wall, and the bomb pings.

“Vocal activate code Required to engage bomb… please speak the activation code.” They ask, (Y/n) sighs and reveals it.

“Code… Ana.” He said, the code was authorized and the bomb was already triggered, Ana watches she feels the ground shake, and the factory itself begins to cave in on itself, and sink into the darkness of the water. (Y/n) plunged into the dark, never seen again.

28 Years Later.

My eyes slowly awoken, I felt the stiffness in my bones, my body. My vision slowly began to repair itself and my eyes focused on the figure before me. For whatever reason, a giant Gorilla with glasses was looking at me.

“You’re awake, tremendous!” He said with glee, he talks too.

“Am I, dead?” You ask, he shook his head.

“No, Far from it.. my Names Winston, and you’re very much alive. In fact you were part of a project to be found, thanks to Ana.”

“Ana? How is she?!” You ask hurriedly.

“She’s nearby, you should rest, you have been gone for 28 years.”

“28?!” You yell, The Gorilla attempts to quell your confusion.

“I know, I know, you have many questions and I plan to answer them But introductions are in plan here, my name is Winston.. Welcome, to Overwatch.”

[eulogium-red]

imagine being juno and your first introduction to earth is the second omnic crisis 💀 i'm so sorry

[delugedecade]

Mirrorwatch: The Overwatch What If

This is for the mutuals and anyone who hasn't touched Overwatch in AGES. Overwatch 2 has been pumping out new content in monthly seasons, and here in Season 10, we have the Non-Canon Mirrorwatch Event.

(If you want you can watch the announcement video for Season 10)

{What is Mirrorwatch?}

A fierce fight between Overwatch and Talon rages upon Watchpoint: Gibraltar. And in a single moment, an unstoppable object would collide with an immovable force. A Punch from Doomfist against Reinhardt's shield so hard it shatters reality. Among its pieces, an alternate reality.

==============================

{Who's Who Now?}

Alignments have shifted in Mirrorwatch, Overwatch Agents are now part of Talon, and Talon Agents now Overwatch. But let's see who specifically, with some explanation as to why I think things changed

Overwatch

Overwatch is led by Strike Commander Ogundimu. It's likely in this reality this Doomfist was mentored by the First Doomfist, Adhabu "The Savior" Ngumi, As opposed to the canonical universe, where Akande was mentored by the Second Doomfist, Akinjide "The Scourge of Numbani" Adeyemi, who was the person who recruited him into Talon.

His second in command is Captain LaCroix. Whether or not her husband Gerard was assassinated, Lacroix joined Overwatch and climbed the ranks as their lead sniper, and I can tell you for sure, there's a lot of lore for her considering who she's fought with in canon.

The last Overwatch agent in this event is Agent Colomar. Overwatch likely had more involvement in the displacement of orphans after the Omnic crisis, So instead of finding power in manipulation and information, she found power in helping others improve. Plus her Hack symbols have smiley eyes

Talon

In Mirrorwatch, Angela Ziegler takes the moniker of Vengeance as the leader of Talon. Not much is know as to why she chose this path, all that we know is that her nefarious plans are for humanity's future. Vengeance Mercy is this Season's Mythic Skin, and so has variations to her design, and during the event, her resurrection has changed from reviving to detonating fallen souls.

Second to Vengeance is Arch-Commandant Ana. Once again, there are some details I'd like to go further into later, And much like Doomfist of canon, Ana believes the world has grown complacent.

The first Talon Agent I'll talk about is Reinhardt, taking the name Fallen Knight, which implies at some point he defected from Overwatch to Talon's side. Judging by his voiceline when eliminating Ana, He doesn't like being leashed around.

Talon Zarya. I got nothing for Zarya being a Talon Agent other than Volskaya Industries being evil and loaning her out to Talon.

Now this is menacing~ Talon Brigitte has some real lore to theorize about. Either she's been raised under Talon if Torbjorn was sided with Talon to begin with, or she enlisted with Talon after learning Reinhardt defected to it. Also look at Mitzi, looking all evil and forboding.

And lastly Operative Oxton, where to begin~ A few fan comics have head-canoned that Lena's chrono-accelerator was faulty/damaged, leading to an explosion that killed Emily, which would be quite the dark backstory to join Talon in revenge against Overwatch. This actually plays well with how her Blink ability works in the Mirrorwatch event, where she take make more teleports at the cost of her health. And if it isn't obvious by her pose, she's sort of the Reaper equivalent.

Other Affiliation Changes

Genji and Symmetra have both landed themselves in Australia as Junkers

Kiriko and Hanzo have joined the Shimada's rival Clan, the Hashimoto.

Zen is part of Null-Sector this time as Z-EN Destroyer, with Ramattra taking his place as the monk who wanted peace between Human and Omnic.

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{Changes to the story}

Of course with Affiliation changes, there are lore changes. Here are the main two that are most prominent.

LaCroix VS Amari

In canon Overwatch, Ana loses her eye after hesitating to shoot a brainwashed Lacroix turned Widowmaker. But if you noticed earlier, Arch-Commandant Ana doesn't wear an eyepatch. In Mirrorwatch, because of the shift in alignments, It's Widowmaker who loses an eye in the shootout and she has a cybernetic one to replace it.

Widowmaker VS Tracer

Back in the Alive Cinematic, Tracer fails to stop Widowmaker from assassinating the Omnic Monk and leader of the Shambali, Tekhartha Mondatta. But in Mirrorwatch, instead of Mondatta, Ramattra becomes Tekhartha of the Shambali Omnics and is assassinated by Tracer. And if one of her elimination lines against Tracer says anything, Widowmaker was the one who failed to stop the assassination.

So yeah, that's why I said Widowmaker is like the Tracer of Mirrorwatch, getting the most lore to pull from.

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{More Mirrorwatch?}

There's definitely possiblity there could be more Mirrorwatch skins, if we go by an interview between Twitch Streamer Skiesti and Overwatch 2's Art Director, Dion Rogers. Vishkar Lucio, DJ Symmetra, Junker Winston, Overwatch Reaper, Talon Soldier: 76 were all ideas that were cut.

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And that's Overwatch 2 Season 10's Mirrorwatch.

If people would be interested in me roleplaying as some of these alternate universe characters, or want to learn about some of the other Overwatch 2 Story Events, like Starwatch or Questwatch, let me know.

[lady-of-endless]

hi!! do you think you could write something with Ramattra where he somehow ends up at overwatch and the reader (a new agent) is the only one who’s nice to him? And gradually they grow closer and when it comes time for him to leave on a mission she goes to the hanger to see him off and maybe gives him a kiss/they have an intimate forehead touch?your stuff is so good thank you!!!!

Author's Note: Can I just say how much I love this idea? I really hope I won't mess it up. I added a twist to your request, hope you won't mind it too much :( Thank you for requesting and I hope you'll enjoy it.

Overwatch recruit!Ramattra with Overwatch agent!reader

He could sense everyone's stares as he walked through the halls of the Overwatch Watchpoint. He got accepted there as a recruit (a soon-to-be agent), but only in theory. Practically, everyone was hesitant and slightly judgmental because of his tumultuous past and brutal acts.

Everyone tried to be mature about the situation and he appreciated it at first. However, day by day, that forced and rigid diplomacy he got from every Overwatch agent was driving him insane. Ramattra was expecting this type of approach yet, he longed for a true interaction. He wished for a real conversation.

Ramattra was convinced that he was entitled to receive those reactions from the other agents after all the damage he has done in the past. That is exactly why when you approached him with kindness, he was surprised.

You noticed how he carried himself, how he tried to fit in and prove himself as a recruit and wanted to help him. Also, you couldn't deny how captivating he seemed to you. There were times when he accidentally caught you staring at him but he brushed it off. Again, everyone else was staring at him.

Of course, before any mission, there was a meeting with both recruits and agents. Ramattra thought how clichéd it was that no one sat next to him. Not that something as insignificant as this mattered to him. "Hello, recruit." He heard a voice coming from his right side. "Greetings, agent." He automatically responded in an official tone before looking at you. It wasn't a memorable first encounter but he thought about it all day. Not because someone finally sat next to him and greeted him but because you smiled at him like you were honestly happy to see him. No one seemed truly glad to see him there.

Since that day, you always sat next to him. He was surprised that you would ask about how he's adjusting, how he finds working for Overwatch, and other questions. At first, he thought that some other agent ordered you to interrogate him but as time went by, he noticed how you were more interested in how he was feeling rather than any other information.

Ramattra wouldn't admit that he longed for more time spent with you. However, he would come up with different questions about missions and other agents to ask you. He could find the answer to those questions alone easily, but it was the most suitable strategy to get to interact with you more.

Days went by and you still were the only one who was treating him with sympathy and equality. Getting closer to one another felt natural.

Back in his days as a monk he learned a lot about gratefulness and although he had nothing to feel grateful for a long time because of the omnic crisis, now he finally found something. Someone.

During meetings, there were countless moments in which your hand would subtly move closer to his on the table, during meetings. Cassidy is the only one to catch that move so he smirks and tips his hat to you and Ramattra. Since he noticed that wholesome moment between you two, Cassidy was the next agent who has become friendlier to Ramattra.

What's more about those meetings is that Ramattra is always attentive to what everyone has to say but when you are the one talking? He is mesmerized. When you talk, in front of everyone and your eyes would linger on him, Ramattra fixes his posture a little bit.

The funny thing is that no matter how he felt growing more and more fond of you, he still called you "Agent" or "Agent (your last name)". He wanted to keep showing his respect.

One day, you hear that Ramattra will be sent on a mission without him being in your assigned team. It was a dangerous mission so of course you were worried and of course, you wanted to let him know how you felt just in case something dramatic happened. As he was getting himself ready, he was surprised to see you in his quarters. He stopped fixing some belts immediately when he noticed the distress on your face. You step closer to him, avoiding his gaze and confusing him. Was there something wrong?

Ramattra looks at you for a little longer before placing his hands on your shoulders. "You can tell me." He says in a calm tone. As he kept his hands on your shoulders, you finally placed your hands on his chest and looked up at him. You both noticed how close your faces were but no one backed away. Naturally, he leaned in, letting his forehead touch yours in silence. You both got the meaning of the affectionate gesture.