#widowmaker sort of

[kraviolis]

*clings onto any and all characters who show both subtle or explicit signs of plurality from all of my various interests and hyperfixations consistently throughout my entire life* no no its all a coincidence im just fascinated with the concept i certainly dont relate to it haha

[bookerdwitt]

also overwatch is crossing over with wow rn and let me tell you if i never get litch king reinhardt im blowing up blizzard hq

[talonprteam]

Why I Subscribe To The Deep Cover Reaper Theory/Headcanon

First prefacing this with the fact I know that at this point the only way it'll end up canon is if a lot of Code of Violence gets retconned.

Now that said, my biggest reason I choose to believe the idea that Gabriel Reyes is with Talon in deep cover in order to spy on them and sabotage their efforts is that simply I cannot think of any other compelling reason for him to have joined Talon let alone take a leadership position in it.

His motive for joining Talon has always been nebulous at best, and somehow after eight years that's not any less true. Even acknowledging Code of Violence, Talon is the exact sort of corruption of power that Gabriel was tired of, and is still an organization that he passionately hated who killed people he cared deeply about.

The possible motivates I can see in a Watsonian analysis are:

Chaotic Evil: He just suddenly and inexplicably became evil and stopped caring about literally anything he used to. Completely ridiculous as an answer and poor writing.

Stupidity/Forgetfulness: It would explain his willingness to join, but is incredibly poor writing and would feel like such a ridiculous answer. So absolutely not.

Amnesia: Were he to have more generalized amnesia it would be a less ridiculous answer and would explain why he'd join. The problem here is that he has not shown any major signs of amnesia, recalling people and his relationships with them easily in his interactions with them. How it would play narratively would depend a lot on execution, but it could easily feel cheap if played wrong.

Brainwashing/Mind Control: Would explain his joining and not be ridiculous, however would raise a lot of questions about why on earth they'd let him have a leadership position, and would infringe on Widowmaker and Sigma's narratives about control from Talon and being used as weapons. Also he's behaved as though he had agency in joining in his interactions with others.

Corcieion: Moria is the only doctor likely to be able to keep Gabriel alive in the condition he's in, so could have potentially used that to force him to join Talon; however that does raise a lot of questions about his leadership position, and I have trouble believing he'd be so selfish as to join Talon just to save his own life.

Deep Cover In Overwatch: He was pretending to be good guy all along with them, this contradicts nearly everything we know about him at this time, and also would be incredibly ridiculous considering Gabriel was literally the first person to sign up to found the organization.

And that leaves, Deep Cover In Talon: He joined Talon in order to spy on it and sabotage it from the inside, working towards a leadership would make a a lot of sense for those goals, and it fits his personality and vendetta against Talon.

Specifically here's how I see it playing out:

He originally creates the Reaper identity to monitor criminal and terrorist spheres without risking his other agents and without tying things back to Blackwatch given how much controversy its already in. As the beginning of the end happens he starts to think about drastic measures to undermine Talon such as having someone infiltrate it, preferably himself given how intense of a mission it would be. Perhaps this idea is even the one that him and Jack were arguing about when the explosion happened. He explosion does happen and now the world thinks Gabriel Reyes is dead, and he's even more reliant on Moria than ever. Everything lines up to join Talon and start hunting down the corruption that was in Overwatch.

To me this all also nicely parallels with Ana and Jack who also unintentionally faked their own deaths and then went on a self destructive path to try and protect the world.

For my own writings this is what I'll be going with 99 times out of 100.

[secret-places-of-the-heart]

⊹ how overwatch heroes love

⟢ i found the start of this in my notes from last summer and decided to finish it. only did a few because they stuck out to me the clearest

⟢ cw :: none; just drabbles of their "vibe" or whatever. includes junkrat, ashe, and widowmaker

also putting it here since i dont have it anywhere else: yes i do requests

| ♡₊⋆ˎ-ˊ junkrat

junkrat would, fittingly, love like a bomb.  jamison fawkes has no experience with a partner, let alone love.  but he’s diving in headfirst, fuses alight with hearts for pupils.  he’s unpredictable; you never really know where he’s going to land emotionally.  all you know is the blast will be damaging — not particularly in a bad way.  those little explosions of love will burn away your skin and all those fleshy layers until he can see your heart.  he doesn’t mind the blood as he cups his hands around it, so raw and so you, the beating of it against his palms akin to a countdown.  and then every burn scar he gets while tinkering on his creations he dedicates just for you.  his love is always around, just a constant ticking clock until the wick is at its end and you hear that familiar ring.  he’s a block of c4 strapped right over your heart.

| 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ashe

ashe is a hole in the head.  something so intense it disrupts your entire way of thinking. a shot she never misses.  her love is all you can focus on, dripping all out down your forehead and into your eyes and mouth, staining your teeth a visible red when you smile so love-drunkenly for her.  it’s a consistent shot of pain, an ache that will never cease.  she leaves your brain all mushy, torn up so all you can really think about is her. when you look, she’s stood in front of you with her hat tipped down, muzzle of her gun pressed to red pouted lips, blowing a leash of smoke around your neck with no intention of letting go.  your head is split open for her viewing pleasure, and she makes sure you know. but she cradles your jaw with lissom fingers and wets a white handkerchief with her tongue, dabbing it over your heart-shaped wound.  she sort of revels a little in the way you wince at the sting, cleaning you up just enough so the wound never really heals.  it may scab over, but ashe is always ready with another bullet, and you know how quick she can reload.

| ᥫ᭡₊ ⊹ widowmaker

widowmaker loves like a spider bite.  you’re tied up in her sticky strings of love, her carefully woven web tied from lamenting bone to lamenting bone. and it seems for a moment the spider whose web you’re caught in has died with how long you struggle all alone.  but she’s there, perfecting her poison before her final performance.  widowmaker is graceful as she moves along that pretty, heart-shaped web of her design.  long legs tantalizing you, love just dripping from those sharp fangs of hers. you can feel it spread painfully through your veins, pumping into your heart.  and it’s like your chest constricts; she’s taking you for herself from the inside out.  she’s focusing in on every single part of you, scoping into the sweat that’s dripping off your face, the intoxicated way your eyes fight to stay open.  your vision is so foggy when she lifts your head by your chin, all you can really make out is her shadowed form.  and now it’s like the web that ensnared you is the only thing holding your body up.  your veins write jeremiads up your arms; her love is a pain you just couldn’t bring yourself to hate.

[sshadowritestoriess]

Hey! Do you think you could write some NSFW headcanons for Widow, Mercy, Kiriko, Lifeweaver and Genji (gender neutral afab reader) please? Feel free to ignore if that's too many characters or if you just don't want to do it. Have a great day, and don't forget to drink water dear author!

Sure! I did my best, sorry they’re all so short. I just didn’t want a super long post 😅

Widowmaker NSFW

She can quite literally take you out in ‘one shot’— you’re not certain how exactly she does it, but she touches you in all the right places in quick succession and finds exactly where you need her most in just an instant. You’ve lasted about thirteen seconds at most with this technique of hers, and it was quickly banned from the bedroom unless you asked for it

She’s a very hard biter, like she doesn’t realize she needs to be a bit more gentle. You often wonder if she thinks she’s actually going to inject venom into your bloodstream this way

Eerily quiet responses toward any pleasure, even if you’re doing everything right she makes it hard to tell if you’re doing anything at all. So she tends to be the one in charge, that way you don’t end up questioning your capabilities or doubting her reactions

A slowed heartbeat seems to increase her stamina, though. It’s only somewhat annoying, especially in addition to her lack of emotion toward intimate times. But you refuse to believe she’s not feeling anything at all, either— otherwise she wouldn’t be stepping on you ‘for fun’ unprompted, or initiating half of these encounters

Mercy NSFW

An unpredictable switch— everything that happens in the bedroom is a flip on a coin based on what she’s feeling and when. You never know if you’re about to give or receive, but either way it’s extremely rewarding and it’s hard to discern any complaints out of a night with Angela

She is pretty vocal, makes the nicest noises and lewd sounds you’ve probably ever heard. She definitely sounds like an angel, and it’s worth every touch to hear her sound off while completely red in the face

Maybe a bit too in love with pegging you. As a doctor and being very knowledgeable about the body, she’s rather enthusiastic toward loosening you up and talking about safety before giving you the ramming of a lifetime. Certain recommended positions even relieved your back pains somewhat, to your astonishment

She highly prefers to schedule these exchanges, rather than doing them on a whim. She refuses the ideas of quickies or anything with risk— especially in communal/public areas. You’d need to absolutely guarantee no one will be walking in or she might not ever forgive you for the embarrassment

Kiriko NSFW

Absolutely a brat, and we all know this. You’re not getting anything done without force or a trade, and she clearly relishes in those methods— always a “no” or a “why”, and then the “what will I get in return?”

Hugely into degrading and she’ll meet you halfway, criticizing your every move as if it doesn’t have her writhing in euphoria. She’s mostly in control of the sounds she makes, but when you get enough of a rise out of her the high-pitched noises are totally worth the struggle to get them in the first place. But she tries really hard to pretend like you don’t have an effect on her

She totally abuses her abilities to make you both finish faster, and especially against your will if you intended to take your time. Everything she does in bed is completely in spite of you— you’re fighting to earn the outcome you want, so hopefully you’re up for that kind of challenge

Her attitude is to make up for her low libido, and especially in her inability to last very long. She’s super sensitive, but she’ll never admit it. You’ll figure this out sooner than later though, and she’ll put up even more of a fight with a smirk on her face before you get anywhere near the brink of relief

Lifeweaver NSFW

Undoubtedly has a preference for being on bottom, but absolutely more than capable of being a top if he’s in the mood for it.

He’s sort of a pillow princess, likes having all the work be done for him. Much more of a receiver than he is a giver, but only in intimate moments— he’s much more giving outside of private moments that heavily lack clothing

But he is extraordinarily talented with his mouth, and he knows this. Yet he won’t offer such services without being asked politely, which must include a ‘please’ or he may remind you of your manners. It’s all in good fun though, he likely wouldn’t have refused either way (please ride his face)

He makes a lot of sounds, though they’re always muffled by his hand or pillow— or you. He also super loves using rope for things, like being restrained, and shibari. He gets more excited when he’s trapped and vulnerable in front of someone he likes

And while he’s a gentle top, he makes sure to return every favor you’ve given him on the occasions he does take over. These sessions last significantly longer than when he’s on the receiving end— edging turns out to be a specialty of his. And along the way, he’s more than happy to remind you of your previously indulgent behaviors

More Genji NSFW

Genji is still Genji, and even under all that metal he’s still pretty full of himself. So he totally, secretly, has a mask kink, and goes a bit feral when you wear his helm along with a lingerie or something else enticing (maybe even his hoodie lol). There’s just something about seeing his own visor on you that makes him want to pounce

I don’t imagine he’s super into wireplay/anything that has to do with his mechanics, but he’s not against it. He’s fine with it enough and appreciates you’d find these parts of him just as attractive, it just doesn’t get him going as much as other things do. He will happily indulge you though.

He’s dangerously easy to arouse. Drop one hint, playful or not (but only after the first few intimate exchanges) and he will find someplace to make it quick. Of course, he’s fluent in consent, so he’ll back off if you really were only joking. But otherwise you may often find yourself getting that super-enhanced-ninja special in the strangest secluded areas

And he makes it his job to make sure you cum before he does. On occasion he slips up, and if you’re competitive like that then it can be pretty 50/50. But he praises himself as a gentleman who treats his lover with the utmost care, and will deliver to you everything he has before taking you for his own pleasure

[dr-spectre]

also it's a random thing but I've realized people have been using brainwashed wrong too

Brainwashing has nothing to do with actually mind controlling people and has everything to do with propaganda. And being told it constantly

For context -

<- the actual definition of doing something

if we use this definition instead of how literally everyone uses it (ie. It's just a replacement for mind controlled)

Then honestly callie being "brainwashed" makes more logically sense if you treat the hypnoshades as consistently feeding her propaganda. It's not literally taking over her mind she's literally probably being played octavios music tbh

Because it's canonically a thing that octavio uses music for propaganda

TLDR: even by LITERAL INSISTENCE INKIPEDIA DEFINITIONS that she id "brainwashed and mind controlled", she can not be mind controlled. Realistically if Callie was brainwashed that means she was just fed propaganda about Octarian.

So people can't argue that she was forced into that outfit she wears in splatoon 2 still because she probably chose to wear it maybe as a strange solidarity idea. It's not about being forced to wear something... Like that. It's wearing a uniform.

Uh that tldr is too long:

Etldr: callie can't be mind controlled no matter how much people insist, brainwashing literally is about propaganda and not "oh no my memories are lost I can't feel ::((("

You literally cannot force her to not have autonomy no matter if it's "brainwashing vs hypnosis"

It's NOT MIND CONTROLLL 😭😭😭😭

o god this is super long

I actually got a comment that was VERY similar to this!!! Someone (I forgot who) said, "I'm gonna think of cult brainwashing instead of sci-fi brainwashing for callie for my own sanity."

From my knowledge, the term brainwashing has always been this general term to describe mind control plots and shit like that and people use it poorly and wrongly. And THAT'S where my anger comes from. Because people wanna make Callie's arc in Splatoon 2 way worse, more disgusting and less interesting. It's so SOOOOO annoying and disregards any sort of arc that Callie could go through....

The word is either used in cults, or military experiments, or family drama of "you're brainwashing my child!" Or sci fi lazy bullshit where it's just "mind control and you lose all of your autonomy and memories" aka Winter Soldier, Widowmaker, etc. It's such a general term that has a trillion different meanings and it's fucking frustrating as hell.

If I try to look at Callie’s story through the lens of "standard" brainwashing where it's just psychological manipulation and propaganda from the Octarians and Octavio, considering that he is known to use music and other things as motivation to boost Octarians.... then... I actually wouldn't have a problem with people using that word... maybe...

Because Callie STILL had some amount of agency and autonomy, even with the shades on, she couldn't have been forced to do anything against her will cause of how hypnosis works. She still heard out the Octarians and listened to their propaganda. Was Octavio still in the wrong? Yeah! DUHHHH!!! NO FUCKING SHIT SHERLOCK!!! HE MANIPULATED A MENTALLY ILL SQUID WOMAN!!! YOU THINK IM RESOLVING THAT MAN OF BLAME?!?! FUCK NO!!! But in that scenario it's WAYYYY LESS EVIL than what the fuck people and Nintendo tried to suggest that they did. I dont wanna believe that Octavio immediately grabbed and then "brainwashed" Callie with the shades after she said "okay fine I'll hear you out." And then "kidnapped" her and her memories were wiped... Ugh. (Fucking Nintendo bro god I hate them...)

It would also help explain WHY she doesn't feel any sort of trauma or suffering from those events and why she finds the Octarians cute and why she went with Octavio to the Low Water party. She probably felt sorry for the Octarians and wanted to help them willingly because her life beforehand was shitty and she was alone... Octavio probably didn't need to do much to convince her, too, which is kinda sad... She probably doesn't feel regret or pain because, well, she was going through a rough period and she wanted an escape, so the Octarians, in her mind, were the only way out...

However.... I can't see that word the same anymore, and every time that I see it, I ALWAYS think of the bullshit sci-fi definition and people just LOVEEEE TO USE IT AS A CATCH ALL TERM!!!! IT'S REALLY REALLYYYYYY ANNOYING!!!!

That word has actually caused me physical reactions when I hear it, like I was in a family dinner and one of my parents used that word and like... I fucking tensed up and felt stinging across my entire body, my heart was pounding and stuff. NO THAT ISNT A JOKE! THATS HOW FIXATED I AM ON THE STUPID SQUID LADY!!!!

Idk if I will be able to comfortably use the word "brainwashing" to describe Hypno Callie because that word has been fully engrained to me as the sci fi. one, rather than the general cult one with more autonomy and more room to dive into depth and character change.

I guess you could say that Nintendo have... BRAINWASHED me into believing that the word is only used as a way to say mind control and "oh no I lost all of my memories!!!" Heh... Heh... eh.... I wanna die.

I fucking hate Nintendo bro. I hate them. So much.

Oh Nintendo, when I find you I swear to go-

[yanderes-galore]

Another for Overwatch. Lifeweaver with the Black Swan skin with the Darling being the white swan, a scenario please! Kinda like the one you did for Widowmaker some time ago? -🐈

It won't be exactly like the Widowmaker one but I will try to do something similar. WE NEED MORE LIFEWEAVER, OMFG!

Monochrome

Yandere! Black Swan! Lifeweaver with White Swan! Darling Short/Scenario

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Courting, You're implied to be animal hybrids, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Kidnapping, Delusional behavior, Violence, Murder, Blood, Mentions of "mate", Forced relationship.

Niran has managed to find beauty in everything that this world has to offer. He himself is a beautiful creature of nature, yet so ostracized from his kind. Swans are meant to have sleek white feathers... his are a midnight black.

Even though most of his kind has shunned him, he still managed to fall in love. Niran has a knack for admiring beautiful things. You happen to catch his eye.

Technically there isn't much different about you compared to all the other swans. You're a white swan with feather that glow when the light hits them. Yet despite this... you managed to catch the black swan's heart.

Perhaps it was your nature that drew him in, your kind personality despite his differences. To Niran, you two are the only swans that matter. Two monochrome beauties living in a world of endless beauty despite the cruelty that festers within it.

You may just be trying to be nice... but it's enough to have Niran attempting to court you. While you merely want to offer friendship, Niran is prepared to shower you in black flowers he's created and charming words. Two different beings... two different wants...

Two... two... a monochrome relationship.

Some may see him as tainted. Some may criticize him. However, Niran has learned not to care.

Why should he when he has a beauty such as you in his sights.

You poor thing continue to give Niran your kindness. You allow the outcast to enter your nest and give you all sorts of goods. Clearly he's courting you.

You keep trying to dissuade his courting but Niran never listens. It starts with charming words and gifts. Near the end it becomes him grasping onto you with a possessive grip as he presses himself against your back.

"We're perfect." Niran says to you as he nuzzles his face into your neck. "We can build a new nest together... we'll be beautiful mates."

All it takes is a little kindness before Niran is preparing a nest. He wants to match the beauty you both have... which is why he wants you to join him. You two are the best pair... no other swan can compare.

Spurred on by his fantasies, Niran is quick after his courting to take you home.

It doesn't matter if you've said yes or not. Indulging him has sunk you further and further into a trap. Far as he knows, you two are mates for life now.

Niran keeps you in your new nest and encourages you to help him decorate it. He prevents you from leaving and acts possessive when another swan enters his territory. After all... his pretty little mate doesn't need to move z feather.

Niran doesn't mind being an outcast. It just means he feels a whole lot less empathy when he kills rival swans. You may look at him in fear when he's covered in red... but he washes himself well.

Niran continues to court you for about a year. It takes a year before the nest is fully developed. In fact... swan couples are in a honeymoon phase for about a year.

Hopefully in a year you will no longer need those chains.

Hopefully afterwards... you can even mate with each other like proper swan couples! Niran will wait as long as he needs to. Yet he admittedly gets excited at the thought.

You begin to lose yourself as Niran coos over you. He praises you... courts you... loves you. He holds and kisses you, treating you surprisingly well despite the blood on his hands. Soon, all due to your naive mistake, you finds yourself sinking into his dark nature.

Niran is as dark as his feathers. There's reasons he was an outcast. Somethings wrong... not just his appearance... but his behavior.

Unfortunately... you were too late to notice it.

Now you two are mates... for life.

[forwhump]

a/n; y’ever wanted gore that also makes you deeply sad ??? >:)

word count: 5k 😬 (it’s a WHOPPER I’m so sorry)

tw/cw: gore, graphic depictions of violence, mutilation, decapitation, execution, major character death (reoccurring), threats of sexual violence, implied rape, noncon, misgendering, transphobia, mentions of medical torture

living weapon whumpee, captivity, escape attempt

In the wants he keeps close to his chest, Silas gets a happy ending.

He gets it with Wren. They get to get out of here.

Silas doesn’t know what that means, not really. He doesn’t know anything outside of this place. He doesn’t know what a life outside of here would be, what it would mean for something like him. He knows with everything in him that he wants to do it anyway, whatever it is, as long as he gets to do it with Wren. His Wren.

The heart that Silas wears on his sleeve beats Wren’s name in time. There’s a spot in his chest where Wren festers, the spot where his heart used to be. There isn’t anything in the world Silas knows or the one he doesn’t that he wouldn’t do for him, for his Wren. He doesn’t know what a life with Wren outside of this place would be but he knows he wants it. He can’t even begin to fathom what’s waiting up there for him but he wants to brave it with Wren.

He’ll never get to.

He knows that now. He’s always known, really, but being the biggest, being the strongest, being a fuckin’ freak killing machine comes with a sort of arrogance that Silas never really realized was arrogance. He always figured, at some point, he’d win. There was never really a doubt in his mind. Silas is the biggest, the strongest. Silas is a fuckin’ freak killing machine. The widowmaker. All the soldiers, the guards, the recruits, the scientists, the surgeons — they’re all afraid of him, they’re all so afraid of him that some of them can’t hide it, not with all the trained rigidity in the world. There would come a time, Silas knew — he didn’t think, but he knew — when their fear would mount and it would make them stupid and all that would be left, to send home to any of their grieving families to bury, would be a couple of broken bits of teeth and maybe a broken fingernail, if Silas were feeling especially generous. They’d get to be free.

He knows now it was just a delusion. It was stupid, and it was stupid of him to ever think he was deserving of any sort of happy ending. He just isn’t hardwired for it. Silas is gonna die just as he lived — miserable and hundreds of feet below ground.

They’re all scared of Silas, and for varying reasons, they all hate him, too. He’s difficult and he’s a disappointment. He’s not smart enough, he’s not obedient enough. He’s too violent, too unpredictable. Not good at following orders. Belligerent. Lacks any sort of respect for authority. Difficult to control.

But Silas isn’t just any captive. He isn’t any soldier. Silas was biomechanically engineered. A lot of money, time, manpower, the world's best surgeons and smartest scientists and steadiest hands had gone into Silas’ insurrection; too much for them to let him go to waste. They won’t let Silas leave for the same reason they won’t let him die, not without reanimating him.

They can’t. They need him. They spent too much money to let him go.

He’d be lying if he said he took that lying down. Silas never lets himself want, and the only time he ever slipped up, the only thing he ever let himself want was Wren, and to live the life Wren wants with him. He dug his nails in so deep that losing it had torn out every one of his fingernails. But maybe that was his own fault. Maybe he should’ve known better than to ever let himself want.

That ache had worsened, split open into the leaking yellow pus of a wound that festered, infected, spread him through with rot. The rot had spread quickly, infected him inside and out with a raw, bloodthirsty sort of resolve. Silas is never getting out. Silas doesn’t get a happy ending. Silas is going to die down here, no matter how much or how privately he might yearn otherwise.

That doesn’t mean Wren has to.

It’s a solid resolve in his chest, not one that weighs him down but one that makes him stronger, that thickens his skin. There’s no reason Wren has to die down here, not while Silas is still breathing. If Silas is gonna die down here, if he has no choice, than his death, at the very least, is gonna mean something. If Silas has to die, he’s gonna die happy.

Quietly, he says, “where is he?”

Still, his voice echoes down the long concrete corridor. He speaks quietly but not kindly. He grins, but there’s blood on his teeth. It isn’t his own.

There isn’t anything Silas wouldn’t do for Wren and there isn’t a life he wouldn’t end for him. He can only imagine the nightmare figure he must cut; does he look like somebody that’s going to die today?

His hair is matted with blood and splattered chunks of flesh, sticking to his face, the sides of his throat, his bare shoulders, his chest. His joggers were grey, hospital grey, the same dull grey as everything else, but they’re so soaked through with blood they’ve turned a wet, shimmering sort of black. His socks are the same, blood warming the bottoms of his feet and leaving lethal footprints in his wake. There’s blood on his hands, so much of it it looks like he’s dipped them. There’s blood under his fingernails, chunks of flesh between his teeth.

Dagger looks up at him, sprawled across the concrete, just barely propped up against the wall. Silas had made quick work of incapacitating him, splitting open his achilles tendons with a knife he had stolen from his buddy, Venom’s, belt. First, Silas had used that knife to split Venom’s Adam’s apple down the middle, then to separate his head from his throat. The tendons, arteries, threads of sinew had split around the blade like snapping elastics. His spinal cord was easy enough to sever, a flick of Silas’ wrist, and he turns Venom’s decapitated head over in his hands again, facing him towards Dagger as he repeats, a little lower, a little bit worse, “where is he? Tell your buddy if you don’t wanna tell me,” and when Dagger chokes out a wet, strained sound, pained and scared, weak and non militant, Silas grins widely. “You scared, Dagger?”

He chokes out another sound he’d probably be too proud to make if he weren’t dying. His feet are hanging off of his ankles at weird angles. Silas may have cut him too deep. His lead lolls, probably heavy, against the wall. “How do you think this is gonna end for you, Park?”

“M’not worried about me,” Silas answers. “Where is he?”

He tips his head back a little further to look at Silas, so much bigger than him, even crouched in a pool of blood on the pavement. “Her fucking dog,” he says bitterly, and chokes out a sound that’s probably supposed to be a laugh. “She’s with Point, Park. Where do you think she is?”

Silas lifts his chin, pretend grateful, as he says, “hold this, man,” and hoists Venom’s head into his hands.

Instinctive, woozy with blood loss, Dagger takes it, and in the split second it takes him to realize, just as he drops what’s left of Venom into his lap, just as he starts to make this sound of dawning horror, Silas takes him by the face, digging his fingers hard into his eye sockets.

Dagger starts to scream and his eyeballs burst around Silas’ fingertips. The hot fluid that leaks from the sockets clears tracks in the blood on Silas’ hands. The soldier doesn’t scream, he makes this high, whining sort of sound, and Silas pulls his head almost ninety degrees from the wall to crack it back against the surface with so much force that Silas breaks completely through his skull and splits open his knuckles against the concrete.

He already knew where Wren was. A long time ago, it might have been a little harder to find him in the labyrinth of the district, a maze literally created, in some points, to confuse and disorient and discourage escape. Wren could’ve been anywhere, could’ve been with anyone, but that was a long time ago. A lot of time had passed since then and a lot of things had changed. Now, as he has been for a long time, if Wren isn’t with Silas, and he isn’t in medical, he’s with Point. He’s just at the end of the hall.

The barracks is an odd space in the district, honestly, and Silas doesn’t care for it, especially because of all the horrible things that have happened to Wren in here but additionally because it’s so jarring on the eye. Almost everything Silas knows is grey — the walls, the floors, his sheets, his clothes. His uniform, for training and for field tests, is black, the same black as all the rest of the soldiers, but it’s such a small dose that he can handle it. The soldier’s uniforms, their weapons, the masks, they’re all black — the surgeons, too, their masks and aprons, but the sight of them has always strained Silas’ eyes, anyway, black or otherwise. The barracks are wholly and entirely black, top to bottom, sheets and bed posts and the shackles they use, and it hurts to look at and Silas hates to see it.

It’s empty. Unfortunately, it’s empty. It hadn’t been, not before everybody had come running and Silas had started using the corridor outside as a slaughterhouse. Point hadn’t been among them, unfortunately. There’s still time — somebody will notice the carnage eventually, and if not then, Point will notice Wren is missing, and he’ll raise the alarm. He’ll come running. If Silas gets anything, he wants to get to kill Point before he goes. How can that be too much to ask?

He finds Wren exactly where he expected him, in Point’s stupid private bedroom, a little black room off a short black corridor in the very back black corner, almost hidden behind a row of bunks. Wren’s shackled to the black bedpost with a black restraint. He looks really surreal on the black sheets, white hair and pale skin and the stupid, frilly layers of white material Point had made him wear. He isn’t unconscious, but he’s sleeping, snoring softly, and Silas doesn’t really have time but he stalls for as long as he can, letting him get as much sleep as possible. He doesn’t have a totally cohesive plan, but he imagines the next few minutes are gonna be incredibly hectic, and then Wren’s got a lot of running to do. He’s gonna need at least a little sleep.

As carefully as he’s capable of, Silas tears the leather at Wren’s ankle and tries not to look too hard at how bruised it is underneath. He won’t forget it, though. He lifts Wren into his arms as delicately as if he’s lifting glass, cradling him to his chest, still trying not to wake him as he carries him from the barracks, down the corridor, past the carnage.

Silas really isn’t good at very much, and he wouldn’t be comfortable saying he is, but he has a small handful of talents, and there are a few things he’s better at than anybody else. Silas is a weapon, a freak, a monster, etc., but he was trained as a soldier, too. He couldn’t give Wren the directions, but he remembers the layout well enough. He can get him where he needs to go.

He makes it farther than he would’ve expected before War stops him. It isn’t a good sign, and Silas exhales softly, placing Wren down gently, close against the wall. He turns the knife over in his hand again as he turns back to face War head on, cracking his neck.

“Where do you think you’re going?” War asks calmly, lifting his gun. He doesn’t work general security detail, he’s too important, so Silas doesn’t see him too often. If he’s weaving the labyrinth on Silas’ tail, it means he was sent after him. It means they’ve noticed he’s missing. And if they haven’t sounded the alarms, it’s because they don’t want him to know yet.

Silas is running out of time.

“I have to make this quick,” he says, “so this won’t hurt for long. It’s gonna hurt a lot, though.”

“Just gotta be quicker than me, big guy,” War says, and he pulls the trigger.

Silas is fast, almost fast enough. Nothing lethal, not immediately, but he takes a bullet in the shoulder, the bicep, and then one of his ribs. He tears a hole in War’s throat with his knife, opens the soft flesh chin to sternum. War gurgles, his gun flails, he loses aim, and Silas reaches through the wet, opened cavity of his throat to pull his spinal cord out through it. War drops into a disfigured, bloody knot on the concrete.

Shoving him out of the way with the side of his foot, Silas spits on him before he turns. Wren’s sitting back against the wall, watching him, and as inappropriate as it is, Silas can’t help himself and he smiles at him, crooked. It’s disappointing, of course, in a way that Silas knows will fester, will get infected the more Silas starts to miss him, but it’s hard, right now, not to feel good about it. Sucks that he’s gonna die, but he dies all the time, what’s one more? Sucks he doesn’t get to go with Wren, but Wren gets to go, and that’s what matters, isn’t it? Sucks that Silas is gonna spend the rest of his life, however long or short it may be, missing him, but how fortunate that Silas, who never got anything else good in his life, got to have Wren, at least for a little while. He’s never deserved Wren, not ever, but he got him, anyway, and the rest of his life, however long or short, will pale in comparison, but it’s so fuckin’ unbelievable he got to have it at all. He’ll die happy this time.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Silas says.

Wren smiles blearily, angling his head. “I missed you.”

Silas feels a small beat of guilt he chooses to ignore. “I missed you, too.”

“What are you doing?” Wren asks, taking the hand Silas holds out to him, clinging to it still once he’s on his feet

“I need you to come with me,” Silas explains. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“I can walk,” Wren says, but he doesn’t, angling his head again as he looks Silas up and down. He motions him closer, and Silas leans down, letting Wren try to wipe blood off his face with one of his white sleeves. “What are you doing, Silas?”

“We don’t really have time for this,” Silas says softly, but he doesn’t stop him. “Come with me.”

“Where?”

Silas hesitates. He shouldn’t have — it gives him away more than anything he could’ve said or any lie he could’ve come up with off the top of his head. He doesn’t know a lot of things, but he’s learned a few things about Wren in the time he’s loved him and Wren is so unbelievably stubborn, especially for such a soft, human person, that sometimes Silas doesn’t know what to do with him. And he digs his heels in weird places, about weird things, he fights Silas about Silas’ general disregard for his life so ferociously that sometimes it’s actually a little intimidating. Silas had been expecting a fight. He was just hoping they’d be a little closer to freedom.

Wren’s hand is a firm touch against his cheek. “What are you doing?” He repeats softly.

“I’m gonna get you out,” he says.

Wren thumbs slowly over his cheek as he sighs, “Silas.”

“Not like last time,” Silas tells him softly. “I fucked up last time. I know. Let me make it right.”

“You don’t have to make it right,” Wren says softly, pushing Silas’ hair behind his ears on both sides, touching his face so gently it sort of aches. “I’m not angry with you. You tried —”

“Not hard enough,” he says simply. “I didn’t do good enough. I didn’t get you out.”

“You tried,” Wren repeats. “You —“

“Let me try again,” he says, leaning his cheek a little harder into Wren’s palm. “I fucked up last time when I tried to leave with you. I’ll do it right this time.”

Wren’s hands leave Silas’ face so quickly Silas doesn’t have time to stop him. “You wouldn’t come with me?”

Silas shakes his head slowly. “I can’t.”

“What?” Wren says, and Silas can see it, that stubborn thing starting to harden in his face. Wren is the only person Silas has ever met that’s never been afraid to stand up to him. Silas is gonna miss that about him. “You want me to leave without you?”

“No,” Silas admits, “I don’t want you to go. But I can’t get you out if I go with you.”

“No,” Wren repeats. “I’m not going anywhere without you. Silas, they’d fuckin’ kill you.” That much would’ve been obvious, Silas would’ve thought, and he can’t help if his eyebrows raise as he heaves his shoulders. The hardness seeps quickly out of Wren’s expression, replaced by something so blank it gives Silas a weird spike of discomfort. Just as quickly, Wren flushes with a sort of fury Silas doesn’t think he’s ever seen on him before. “No. What the fuck are you talking about?” He spits. “You’re not gonna fuckin’ die for me, Silas.”

“Wren —”

“No,” he snaps. “I’m not even entertaining this.”

“I can do this, Wren,” Silas says. “I can get you out.”

“I’m telling you no,” Wren scolds sternly. “Absolutely fuckin’ — no. Are you — no. I’ve never thought you were stupid, Silas, but this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Silas can’t help that his mouth pulls up on one side, crooked. “I’m gonna die again anyway,” he says softly. “Let me die for you this time.”

“No,” Wren says. “I’m not leaving here without you. I’m not leaving you here.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Silas says, exhaling a sound that he thinks might be the closest he’s ever come to laughter. “This is all I know, Wren.”

“That’s why I worry about you,” he snaps.

“It’s more important that you get out, Wren,” he says. “Not just to me. You have a whole life you can get back to. People that miss you. I don’t know anything that’s not here. I don’t miss anybody. Nobody misses Silas.”

“I will,” Wren snaps. He looks like something Silas can’t quite explain — something impossible. He looks up at Silas, heartbroken, and it breaks Silas’ heart in turn.

He doesn’t want to hurt Wren. He’s never wanted to hurt Wren. But this — he needs to do this. Even if it hurts.

He reaches out to him and Wren bats him away with more strength than Silas was expecting. “I’m not fuckin’ leaving you here,” he seethes.

Silas shakes his head slowly. “Wren —“

“No.”

“Wren,” he repeats. “They won’t let me go.”

“Then we’re not fucking going! What are you talking about?”

“I can get you out,” Silas says. “I can do this. Please,” he tries. “Please, let me do this for you. Let me die happy.”

“I’m not going to let you die at all!”

He lifts his shoulders. “You can’t stop me.” Wren looks like he’s probably considering it — the very best way to incapacitate Silas. In truth, it would be easy for him. If he asked Silas for the knife, Silas would hand it to him. If he asked Silas to bare his throat, Silas would bare it. “Wren,” he says softly. “Do you really want to stay?”

“Stop it, Silas, I’m not —“

“Stop being angry with me,” Silas says, “and be honest. If you had a choice. Leave or stay. Would you really choose to stay?”

Wren scowls. “Silas —“

“Wren,” Silas says. “Come on. You’re miserable.”

He almost looks offended. “Don’t —“

“Don’t,” Silas interrupts. “I’m serious. Nobody should have to live like you do. I don’t want you to. Who cares about me?”

“I care about you!”

“Okay,” Silas says, “but — come on.”

“Stop,” Wren snaps. “Stop this stupid, self sacrificing bullshit. I’m not leaving you here. You’re not dying for me.”

Silas sighs softly through his nose. “Wren,” he tells him softly. “You can’t stop me.”

“Like hell I can’t,” Wren says.

In truth, if he asked Silas to bare his throat, Silas would, and in truth, any other time, if Wren asked him to incapacitate himself, Silas would do it. For Wren, he would do it. But this isn’t any other time.

Any other time, Silas tries not to be too big around Wren. he tries not to be too strong. Wren is so fragile, still too human, and Silas is careful with Wren like nothing else. But this isn’t any other time.

“Don’t be mad,” Silas murmurs, and he lifts Wren off his feet and over his shoulder with one arm, with his good arm.

Wren does the whole thing; fights, thrashes, screams, threatens, presses his face against Silas’ back and pleads. Silas keeps a hand at his back as he carries him, thumbing across the stupid, crusted material of his stupid dress. Silas is really going to miss him, and selfishly, there’s a part of him that wants to let Wren have this one, that wants to keep him down here where Silas is; Silas has never really cared where he is, as long as Wren is there with him. He’s gonna miss him. He’s never gonna quite be the same without him.

They almost make it, too.

They get so fuckin’ close.

It’s a staircase that leads up, to a locked door that Silas breaks down, to a long corridor with another door at the end. The second to last door they need to pass through.

Vineyard stands in front of it, mask pulled down so his white, obnoxious teeth catch the light. His shotgun is held across his chest, nearly at ease, but his finger is stiff on the trigger.

“I’ll give it to ya,” he says. “You don’t know when to fuckin’ quit, Yeller.”

Wren tenses over his shoulder and Silas can’t help that his fingers flex in the stupid material of his dress. He isn’t worried — not yet. He’d wanted to kill Point but he’ll settle for this one. Point likes him best, so there’s gotta be something especially fucked up about him.

Slowly, he places Wren back on his feet, angling him behind him as much as he can without taking a hand off him. He flips the knife over again in the other. “You gonna get out of my way?” He asks.

Vineyard pumps his gun. “Take a step away from the girl,” he warns, “or she’s about to get real messy.”

Wren inhales sharply. He presses himself close at Silas’ back, clinging to his arm.

For the first time, something less than hopeful starts to worm its way up the back of Silas’ throat. It isn’t doubt, not yet, but if it grows anymore it will be. Vineyard is too far away, too close to the door and too far from Silas — Silas is big, fast, but not big or fast enough that he would be able to even get close enough to unravel Vineyard’s small intestine through his groin before Vineyard blows his head into such small pieces it would be doubtful there would even be enough of him left to put back together. And if it guaranteed Wren’s safety, of course, he would do it in a heartbeat. But if Silas dies here, now, permanently, Wren would probably never be safe again. And he definitely wouldn’t be safe in the aftermath, not here alone with Vineyard, not in such a short skirt.

For a fraction of a second, Silas thinks the clamour that bursts behind him could almost be a gunshot, but before he can even think to tense what’s left of the ruined door is blown out of the way by the calvary of armed guard that swarm into the room to flank Silas on all sides. To corner him.

Fuck.

Masks are pulled high and guns are lifted but it’s the laughter behind him, unnatural, that finally make his shoulders finally tense. Wren goes so still behind him it’s like he’s been turned to stone. Silas, instead, moves the quickest he’s ever moved, keeping Wren behind him as he pivots, angling himself between him and Point.

Point, who says, “this was a cute attempt, big guy. Really. Look at you! You almost made it.” Silas snarls, and Point’s grin stretches wider, more grotesque. He takes a step closer.

“Silas,” Wren breathes.

Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Silas wasn’t fast enough. Wren was supposed to be two doorways further away by the time the brigade caught up to Silas. Silas was gonna kill as many of them as he could, buy Wren as much time as he could, slow them down as much as he could before they finally put him down. Wren wasn’t supposed to still be here. Wren was supposed to be safe.

“Back the fuck up,” Silas warns.

Point grins even wider, hands behind his back as he saunters forwards, closer to Silas, almost leisurely. Silas’ lip pulls back from his teeth, but just when Point is almost in reaching distance, execution distance, Wren’s warmth leaves his back and he screams.

It happens too quickly. Wren is wrenched away from him and Silas turns, an instinct more than anything else, drawn to him, and as Vineyard wrenches Wren into his arms, off his feet, and Wren screams, Silas takes an instinctive step towards him and Point takes three in the same time. He drives his knife through the back of Silas’ knee with an almost inhuman strength, he pushes his knife into the back of Silas’ knee with so much force the blade comes out the other side. Time starts to slow, not to normal speed but even slower than that, when Point turns the knife, cracks Silas’ knee cap, and pulls a fistful of arteries and a wet chunk of meat out with the end of the blade.

Silas can feel that pain in every nerve ending in both his legs, biological and prosthetic. It knocks the wind out of him, and he doesn’t lose his balance, but he sways, and when he sways Point kicks his boot into the opened flesh into the back of his knee and completely separates Silas’ kneecap from the rest of his body. His leg gives out, and he drops onto his knees with a sound like splatter. He can feel the knife leave his hand but he doesn’t see where it lands. He doesn’t let himself scream, but he can’t help the winded, groaning sort of sound that’s knocked out of him. He doesn’t let himself scream, but Wren screams for him.

Vineyard’s gun is strapped to his back again, Wren at his chest. Wren, who wasn’t supposed to be here for this. Wren, who’s gonna suffer for Silas’ efforts.

Point stands in front of him. He takes his time unholstering a handgun for the sake of shoving the barrel down Silas’ throat, chipping one of his canines in the process. “You’ve been a very, very bad dog,” he says.

Silas scowls around the gun. He grabs Point by the throat.

He isn’t gentle. He means to kill him, to crush his windpipe, but Silas is losing a lot of blood very quickly, and he’d already been shot more than once. He grabs Point by the throat so hard that his face changes colour about four times in the span of the second it takes Silas to get his hands on him, before three soldiers, armed and dangerous, take Silas by the arm, between him and Point, and wrench it out of its socket with a crack so loud it echoes down the corridor. When they drop his arm again, it falls limp to his side, attached still to his body only by the skin of his shoulder, the bones completely severed.

This time, Silas roars. He can’t help it.

Point tips his head back towards the ceiling as he cackles. There’s already a bruise around his throat in the shape of Silas’ hand. “How did you think this was gonna go?” He teases. “Really? What do you think we do to dogs once they've started to bite?”

Silas meets his eye. He raises his eyebrows.

Point’s smile vanishes and he forces the gun a little further down the back of Silas’ throat. “You’ll get off lucky,” he tells him. “You’re just gonna be put down. The girl, on the other hand,” he says, and when Silas growls, low in his chest, Point grins again, right back to manic. “She’s gonna be punished greatly for your little performance today. It’s gonna be really miserable for her.” Wren makes a broken sound, a sob, and Point grins a little wider, stretched unnaturally over his face. “And something tells me you’re gonna be gone for a good, long time this time,” he says. “Might have worn a hole in her cervix by the time you see her again.”

Silas is bleeding so much it’s pooling around Vineyard’s feet already. The room starts to tilt as he lifts his head, and still, Silas flexes his fingers to try and get the feeling back and lifts his good arm, the arm still riddled with bullets. He grabs Point by the throat again.

The very last thing he sees before he dies isn’t Point, because he isn’t looking at him. He’s looking at Wren, a surreal streak of silvery light amid the grey, amid the black. He’s flushed with struggle and with crying, tears pouring down his face, shimmering in the fluorescent light. Hazy with blood loss, he looks the most surreal Silas has ever seen him.

“I’m so sorry,” he tries to say.

Then Point pulls the trigger, and he empties his gun into Silas’ face.

[amarylidaceae]

speak to me, speak to me; with love in your words...

hello there sweetie, did you come looking for something? perhaps lady lihua? ah, pardon my defensiveness, we don't get visitors often! here - why don't i teach you about a few flowers? the name's circe by the way! ❀

anaxagoras. | kaveh. | venti. | megumi. | kiryu. | shigaraki.

have you gotten lost? no need to fret, it's a good thing i found you before you wandered too far! the forest sorts things primarily by the flowers like :: [partner] and any inbox responses will be sorted by :: blossoming letters. still a little lost? well any reblogs are found under :: dandelion wish. oh and the flowers don’t like to be shared, apologies in advance.

nagi. | fyodor. | ashe. | oikawa. | giyuu. | widowmaker.

...make for me, make for me; a soft universe.

[lepusrufus]

I was gonna throw this in a list of hcs but actually I wanna give it its own post bc I'm very normal about Widow and what's been done to her

I know the more widely accepted idea is that Widow has some inhuman strength and agility due to all the procedures she went through, but what if it's actually the opposite? Her blood flow is so slow her body barely gets the minimum amount of oxygen through it to survive. It makes her lethargic and chronically exhausted because she's always on that fine line between surviving and dead. It helps her keep deadly still when sniping, with great results as far at that goes, but on the flip side a burst of physical activity while running from one place to another on an assignment exerts her body to the point of agony. There's always a team of doctors and days upon days of physiotherapy waiting at Talon's hq, but that doesn't really erase the pain.

There's nanites flowing through her system but they don't really work. Not like they work for Angela or even Moira because they're not there to heal her, they're just there to keep her body from collapsing in on itself.

Her blood flow is so fucked she has pretty much zero temperature regulation and any environment that's too hot or too cold or spikes in temperature really screw with her. And she can barely even feel it until it's too late and she's either dizzy to the point of fainting or can barely move. (Yes I see the cinematic of her wearing basically nothing in the tundra. Yes I'm ignoring that detail and saying her uniforms are made to help with that thank you.)

Her lack of emotions was a carefully crafted mix of psychology work and meds specifically made for her that by this point keep her body going just as much as every other bit of "maintenance" she needs on a regular basis to survive. It doesn't always work. The human mind is great and complex and frankly she would sometimes prefer it not to be because whenever a strong emotion manages to sneak past all the walls built in her mind it leaves her frustrated and more exhausted than she already is. She can still make connections, have likes and dislikes, but anything particularly strong is like an unwelcome shock to an already fragile system.

But Talon doesn't really care because she's their perfect sniper and at the end of the day all the pain that comes as a consequence is only there to make her stronger.

And to top it off, Moira loathes how Ameliè turned out.

She didn't have that much of a hands on role in the making of Widowmaker, she's neither a psychologist nor a surgeon or any other kind of doctor that could do all of that, but she has been sort of an overseer to it. She's the one handling the regular procedures Widow needs to survive and the one taking note of how she handles one thing or another. And she hates all of it.

Moira used to be proud of Widowmaker, but after years of seeing basically a dead woman constantly walk the line of barely even alive, she realised that this is the complete opposite of what her idea of going against the limitations of the human body used to be. If Widow was to ever stop taking the fistful of daily meds or the medical procedures needed to keep her body going she would simply die, and even Moira can despise something that cruel.

[professionalranter31]

I have more general headcannons for the Overwatch heroes

Bastion has yet to really figure out their gender, they identify as he/him currently because of their relationship with Torbjorn but they are still discovering parts about who they are

Bob used to have a voice but Ashe’s parents had it removed when Ashe started to treat Bob as her parent instead of them, it had the opposite effect that they had intended. Ashe is determined to find a copy of Bob’s voice so he can tell her his stories again and talk to her while he makes meals and hum to her when she just needs a hug

When Efi began to create Orisa’s Javelin update she let Orisa pick out her own hairstyle, there are several hair styles stored away because Orisa went slightly overboard with picking one out, Efi is currently debating getting into selling hair styles to Omnics she’s made so many that she’s become that good

Brigitte had a habit growing up of trying to make mech suits for various animals, from a jet pack mech for a cat to a flying suit for a squirrel, Torbjorn already warned Bastion that she may try to do this with Ganymede, but he also knows that Reinhardt encourages the behavior

Widowmaker’s brainwashing did not simply affect her current emotions, the way that the brainwashers ensured it worked was that they altered her memories of her past emotions so that she felt like she was faking them instead of actually feeling them. Once that process was done then they implanted that she only feels real emotions when she kills someone and implanted the urge to kill Gerard. It also has to be stated that barely anyone knows that she is actually brainwashed, the only people who do are those that brainwashed her, some of them are dead, and Doomfist. So most people thinks this is the real Amelie instead of the fake. Angela and a few others just thinks she suffered a psychotic breakdown

Ana has a small holo disk that holds articles about all of Fareeha’s achievements, from her promotions to her completed missions, everything. Fareeha does not know about this

Ramattra has been analyzing certain individuals in order to create generals for Null Sector, or at the very least super soldiers (this is in reference to the Null Sector skins some heroes have, I want all of them to be canon to the lore)

Sombra hates hacking Omnics, the first time she tried it felt so wrong that she ended up getting sick. The issue that arises is that with manipulations there is always some sort of choice, no matter how much of an illusion one may be, but hacking an Omnic takes away all choice, and Sombra hates that because it makes her feel like the people she’s hunting down to uncover the conspiracy. She was sick for several days after she hacked several Omnics in Numbani for Doomfist

D.Va is a really good at making meals, and I mean like from scratch, it was something she learned to do when first entering the streaming scene because she didn’t want to become reliant on cup noodles and snacks for sustenance, which is ironic because she absolutely sucks at cooking games, which is made further ironic because Tracer, who can’t make a meal to save her life is amazing at cooking games

Doomfist’s philosophy was born when he lost his arm, he cried out for help but no one came even though he could see that people heard him, but no effort was made to save him. He had to force himself out of the rubble pinning him down, and forcefully tearing his trapped arm off to get out. That is when his philosophy first began to develop

Lifeweaver is constantly studying plants to try and find new effects he could create with his biolight that could help people, but the first plants he researched after he left Vishkar were some of Satya’s favorites. She had a small garden that she would trim and keep from overgrowing, with a bonsai tree to round it all together. The first plants he designed and created after leaving Vishkar and joining the Arcology were from that garden, he keeps a replica in his room to remember his best friend

[wildwinterlunas]

Do you think Widowmaker should have a backstory that builds up to her becoming Widowmaker like I also enjoyed her lore on how she was a ballerina I would like a show about her backstory

Oh absolutely, the thing is I see people talking about her backstory with Gerard and all that but something to consider is that Amelie was raised in a conservative rich, presumably old money family. In her bio the specific reasoning behind her love a ballet was because it was an escape for her. If you actually look into her early life it's very obvious that she's always craved freedom, something cemented by how isolated Château Guillard, her family’s ancestral home and the place she grew up.

A big part of Amelie's story has always been freedom. Which is a tragedy considering her role in Talon. It's also a tragedy because everything that happened to her wasn't because of her choices, the only real full choice she made after her brainwashing was getting her emotions locked off because she couldn't deal with the guilt of killing Gerard and the thrill it gave her. She was a civilian she was never mentally prepared to deal with that sort of thing.

I think if we ever get a full look into Widowmaker's backstory it should be a show or a novel like Sojourn, Deadlock Rebels and Hero of Numbani. The dread and build up to the tragedy of Widowmaker's story can only really be translated into those two medias to me. The only exception would be a movie but I doubt they would make a movies specifically about Widowmaker.

[foap-enjoyer]

CoD characters' Overwatch mains

141 + Laswell + Nik + Roach Price: Soldier. 100% That man is a soldier player and you cannot convince me otherwise. He wouldn't know how to play anyone else. Ghost: Dabbles in all sorts, mostly Reaper. He likes the dark, edgy characters, but his secret side-main who he'll never speak about publicly is Mercy. Gaz: Baptiste. But he also adores Ashe. Roach: Cassidy. He loves his voicelines (and his looks, though he won't admit it outloud) Soap: Junkrat. He doesn't care about teamwork off of the field. Just bombs. Laswell: Ana. They're identical, I'm telling you. No further reasoning needed. Nikolai: Pharah. He likes being in the air, even in videogames. ~~~ Los Vaqueros + Valeria Alejandro: Reinhart. He just charges in there swinging and hoping for the best. Rodolfo: Lifeweaver. He spends the entire game bringing Alejandro back from the brink of death and wondering why he even bothered introducing Ale to this game in the first place. Valeria: Sombra. I see no difference between the two. She likes to traumatise Rudy by stalking him. ~~~ KorTac Graves: Doomfist/Roadhog. Likes being tank, likes being a leader and most importantly, likes harassing semi-innocent people. König: Widowmaker. He just wants to be a sniper, dammit. Horangi: Hanzo and Reaper. Spams the most edgiest of voicelines. ~~~ Honourable mentions Farah: Any hitscan. Ashe, Soldier, Widow. Alex: Farah's little pocket-puppy- Mercy.

[dykebelova]

White Widow #1 by Sarah Gailey review.

We can all agree that we all fell in love with Florence Pugh’s Yelena Belova in Black Widow (2021) and for many people, including me, she was our first introduction to the character. And as an absolute, completely sane and normal person, I said to myself “Why not read all of her appearances in the comics ?”, and I did.

Surprisingly, both characters are incredibly different. Nonetheless, both interesting and amazing on their own. While I agree that MCU Yelena has more depth and perhaps, more personality, comics Yelena is still a good character. The way she has been written has been very disturbing, even sick and twisted sometimes, like Pale Little Spider (2002) or Black Widow (2001). Sometimes messy, and I suggest everybody forget her Adaptoid phase or anything that ever happened in Secret Avengers (2013) for her sake. But still, you don't erase almost 25 years of a character's development, even if it has been inconsistent, just because you felt like it.

In the comics, Yelena has always been in Natasha’s shadow and has never had her own original story. In Widowmakers: Red Guardians and Yelena Belova (2020) and Winter Guard (2021), we had a glimpse of hope to finally see her character evolve despite Red Guardian’s appearance, a character linked to Natasha. When a limited-serie on White Widow, a character that hasn’t been properly developed and deserved to, was announced, I fucking cheered man. But then I remembered the curse of a character’s MCUfication, because Marvel never does anything right. And oh boy was I not prepared for what was coming…

I don’t even know where to begin. It all felt like a giant fanfiction written by someone who has only ever seen the movie and didn’t even bother to check on other writers’ previous work on Yelena’s character.

White Widow (2023) #1.

There are lots of things wrong in this picture. First and second panel, where does the needle come from ? After I checked and double checked just in case, there were NO records of Yelena being abducted or forced to do anything she has done in her life. She chose to join the Red Room. She chose to be a Black Widow and she was determined to outperform Natasha’s results during tests. She even had a whole mental breakdown about it.

Pale Little Spider (2002) #1

Now, let’s try to find excuses for the use of the needle… The first one would be the Red Room using the Black Widow’s serum they used on the 28th original Widows, during Natasha’s era. But our good ol' Grigor Ivanovich just ruined this theory.

Black Widow (2004) #4

Excuse number two, the Red Room used some sort of a mind-control serum which wouldn’t make any sense too for all of the reasons I said above.

Now the third panel… I’m at a loss for words. Where the fuck does it comes from. Where the FUCK was it during Secret Empire (2017) ? Yelena wasn’t even there anymore, she was dead. We didn’t see her until Tales of Suspense: Hawkeye and The Winter Soldier (2018), until she was brought back to life WITH Natasha. Also, she has a real family and they’re even mentioned in Black Widow (2001), Yelena calls her mother and her aunt Olga is mentioned.

White Widow (2023) #1

Now, the board... It looks like it has been made for a MCU tie-in more than anything.

Although I'd like to adress one thing that has been said on Twitter, about the "Hate nationalism → Imperialist invasion". There is a difference between nationalism and patriotism. Being a nationalist is being way too extreme about your country when being a patriot is to love your country, its people and its culture while also being critical about the way its being led.

Now, we know when she was young, Yelena was kind of extreme. In Black Widow: The Things They Say About Her (2005) #1, she admitted she was willing to sacrifice herself for the Motherland more than once. During her Black Widow era, she was naive and had a blind love for Russia which was her biggest weakness.

Black Widow (2001) #3

But as her character continued to evolve and grow through her appearences, Yelena is far more reasonable now. She considers herself like a true patriot and she has always been proud of being Russian. In conclusion, this board's section is not as bad as people make it out to be since Yelena went from being an extreme nationalist to a patriot.

Widowmakers: Red Guardian and Yelena Belova (2020)

I know many of you like Kate Bishop and Yelena’s friendship due to their duo in Hawkeye, I too, am a big fan of them… But unfortunately, they only interacted once in the comics. And they didn’t even talk to each other. That’s why mentioning Kate Bishop in her like section is purely fan service and although it is a nice nod to the series, it doesn’t make any sense here. Yelena has interacted with Clint Barton way more than the better Hawkeye, which is sad.

Black Widow (2020) #10

I'd like to come back in the hate section just a second to say I don't know why she hates the Infinity Gauntlet so much that's it's written in caps. It's 100% a nod to the MCU again but here it also doesn't make sense. But again, a lot of things doesn't in this issue.

I wont bother talking about her attitude and how she looks like a teenager swallowing vodka directly from a bottle when she used to be classy and extra with manners. I wont bother talking about her new suit's design which sucks more than her previous one. This is not the Yelena Belova we used to know, it's a complete new character made to match her MCU self and please a small public who mostly watch the movies/series.

I saw a lot of people celebrating Yelena's changes to match Yelena's Florence Pugh more. I know the character has become more famous because of Flo', but this is actually terrible and wasn't handled correctly.

We hoped for a more mature story, maybe a little darker than usual. A new start for her character, to follow her path in making the world a better place and get out of Natasha’s shadow for good. With a little backstory too, nothing much. The bare minimum. Instead, we had a copycat of her MCU counterpart and it is just heartbreaking to see a character I loved so much being destroyed like that.

I could go on and on about why this piece of junk is just a bunch of nonsense and laziness and how Sarah Gailey’s just went for the easiest writing ever… But I will stop there. I just hope she knows that us, fan of comics Yelena, are disappointed. Everything that made her character so special and dear to us, disappeared in one issue. The damage is surreal.

It’s only four issues long so I will continue to read it until the end, but I expect nothing from it anymore. I hope the writer won’t destroy Yelena’s character any further, because things can only go downhill from here.

[norcalbruja]

Updates with Loki, because of COURSE it's Loki.

What's up folks, I went to a witch festival yesterday and bought way too many candles, lmao.

Copied and pasted from Instagram/Facebook:

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October 5: In the hot-as-hell weather, I unwisely bought wax candles and metal or stone jewelry. I promised myself I would only buy what could fit in my bag or what wouldn’t get wrecked from the heat, so I just tried to jam the heat-sensitive items in my bag, away from the sun.

Most of it fit! I got a shop bag for the candle care kit, but then the jar candle started sweating inside my regular bag. Eek. I was damn lucky that it was on top of the candle dish, which was also wrapped in paper. Maybe I have an excuse to get belt pouches now, lol.

I probably made another unwise decision by buying a statue of NORSE MYTHOLOGY LOKI and not Marvel Loki, but there were these two adorable girls who spotted him and went “It’s Loki, my boy! …Asterisk!” Which clearly referred to Marvel-Loki being genderfluid, and it tickled me.

If you don’t hear from me next week, or if you hear TOO much from me, you know a statue of Loki is crashing at my place. Send help and/or a statue of Thor, so he can reenact the Lokasenna.

My smartest decision today was NOT buying a Norse drinking horn, even though they were super nice. I can barely afford normal amounts of alcohol—I will have no opportunities to use a Viking horn, that you traditionally had to pass around for everyone to get a drink. In Covid times, I don’t think anyone should share drinks from the actual horn, but I’d definitely pour out drinks. If I’m ever rich enough to buy any kind of keg or pay for a bar crawl, I’m getting a drinking horn to celebrate SOMEONE’S birthday. 😆

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And copy-pasted from early noon, when Things Started Happening:

So I’m eating spaghetti now and not hangry anymore. Here is why getting a pound of ground beef was way too exciting for me.

Last night: Came home from the Witchfest and started cooking spaghetti, only to find that the now-thawed ground beef was too old and gray for me to risk using it for the sauce.

Sighed, ate something else, tossed the meat in the trash, and put everything in the fridge. Made a note to get more ground beef before lunch.

This morning: Took the trash out and the bag leaked meat juice on the floor!!! Wiped it up fine and double bagged the trash, but I did not need that smell. 🤮

Went to the nearest store: Someone was warning customers that the credit card systems were down and it’s cash only for now. Checked my wallet and bag, no cash. Said bye to the employee, headed out. Ugh.

On the way to the next store: A fire truck starts blasting their alarm and no less than two Volkswagen Beetles look genuinely TRASHED, like they were used for Mad Max. One was beat up and covered in dust, and the other had no trunk door.

Next store: Parked asap, headed for the meat section, stashed my keys in a back pocket, and THEN found five dollars hiding out. With meat prices right now, I wouldn’t have been able to buy anything with it, but I feel like SOMEONE up there was laughing at me, hint-hint.

While I’m waiting in line to buy this damn beef, the shoplifting alarm goes off twice. It’s sorted out quickly, but at this point I am getting wigged out, and I just wanted the damn spaghetti sauce to get finished.

THANKS FOR THE UNWANTED ADVENTURE, LOKI LAUFEYJARSON.

I should have bought the Thor statue to keep this dude in line. 😩

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At 5:30pm: Me and my sister were headed to the hardware store and there was a DAMN FALLEN BRANCH lying in the road a block away. It was a huge widowmaker across the whole lane, and everyone had to drive around it. Loki is now on probation while I make a proper containment bag.

I’m not returning the statue or anything, but we clearly need some house rules before I unroll him from the Mjollnir joint. 😩

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Spirit-world/headspace wise, Loki was just cackling nonstop until I actually got fed up and rolled his statue up. He is confused that I was serious about Mjollnir and went, "Hey! Heyheyheyhey! Bro, I'm not trying to hurt YOU!" and the other spirits are like "Loki, that is not how things work. 😔 "

This seems to have literally "contained" the part of him responsible for "Things Happening WAY too close to me," because now he's just asking me to pleassssssssse let him outttttt.

I told him I'd let him out next Monday at the latest, and I might let him out earlier if he stays... NEUTRAL??? Like, I know he won't necessarily "behave" because he's a damn trickster, but he has to 1) avoid serious physical danger, and 2) try not to affect my family's finances.

And like, I assured him that I'd still FEED HIM until he was out. Because, you know... he seems genuinely distressed that I'm "locking him up," and he is specifically saying "Come onnnnnnn, Cyborg, let me out! I can't get you the good Marvel deals if I'm stuck in this dumbass shit!"

The other spirits are just constantly repeating to him about WHY he's rolled up in a Mjollnir joint. Even Sigyn came up while he was yelling, and she just sighed and went "Loki, what did you do now?"

Brighid is upset that I'm feeding him since 1) he's a god and (mostly) immortal, and 2) even if he needed food, it's not like he'd go hungry from LACK of followers like the Filipino spirits.

And I went, "Brighid, it's the PRINCIPLE of giving him basic necessities. I don't want to imprison him completely or banish him--I'd just prefer at least my BASELINE bad luck for when my mom gets home, and after I've had a couple of decent work-days."

[hyperfixated-homo]

idea for Freja: since she was part of a search and rescue team in overwatch, what if she found Amelie when she was captured? Amelia got captured and brainwashed by Talon, and she was found but then one night killed her husband Gèrard in his sleep and then went back to Talon and became Widowmaker, so what if Freja is the one who initially found Amelie?

Ooh!! This idea is really interesting- and fits well with what little we know about her thus far. if this were to happen, I can imaging it being part of the reason that Freya no longer does search and rescue but rather focuses on actual bounties now. There'd be an element of self blame that would probably arise from that, especially if you imagine that she knew Gerard and Amelie before she was captured.

This is also giving me thoughts about how Widowmaker and Freya might interact. We'll have to see when she gets officially added what kind of interactions she has with other characters, but I think it could be really interesting if they were... allies? I guess? Collegues? I mean, if you keep going along the thought that she knew Amelie before she became Widow, they'd probably act more jaded towards each other, but I could also imagine a universe where they only met afterwards and have a sort of "friendly" relationship because of it. Food for thought, I suppose.