#zenyatta appreciation week

[ya-zz]

I really want something a little bit silly with the very serious robut so I have a request, please hear me out

So Ramattra with a crush on a little human who is friends with Zenyatta and absolutely gets into shenanigans with him. Like they’re usually quiet and even timid but the moment Zen asks them to help him with a little prank or goofs and gaffs or a little bit of trolling they are in.

Mischievous is the word I’m looking for…

Also I love the way you write Rama so ty in general because (chef’s kiss🤌) ✨marvelous✨

Aaaa thank you! This was such a fun request to do!

Gotta add Zen into the gif for his participation in this~

Ramattra x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1620

For a few months now, you and Zenyatta formed this bond, one full of playfulness and banter. You would go to him when you needed help and he was usually always there and he would always come to you when he was feeling mischievous - he had a new scheme each week. Of course, they were harmless pranks, never intended to hurt any omnic. Being the only human in the Monastery was challenging at times, so having Zenyatta there made it worthwhile. 

He brought you out of your shell for a moment or two, and you greatly appreciated that.

Just like any other day, Ramattra would wander the halls of the Monastery, the metallic feet of his tapping away as he walked, a schedule he rarely broke unless absolutely necessary. However, there had been a lot of noise recently, especially between another monk and a human. The other monks didn’t seem to mind, but it clearly irritated the ravager until he finally gave in and ignored the laughter altogether. 

Yet, despite all of the irritation, he would still listen, his circuits warming when he hears you laugh. If he could smile, he would - just the thought of you laughing brought him some comfort he hadn’t really felt for a long time. 

Ramattra never admitted it, but you had grown on him, more than any human had ever done in the past. The irritating days grew into a soft admiration in a matter of weeks, and with the help of his brother, those feelings only grew more. 

Now, today was no different - Ramattra went about his day, sitting outside and meditating in the spring time sun, the orb of his hovering above him, slowly spinning in rhythm of his ‘breathing’ as the breeze gently passed by. 

But that peace was disturbed when he heard two entities approaching. His head tilted, trying to pick out the footsteps. Only when he heard your laugh did he know who else was with you. 

“Ah, brother.” Zenyatta calls out, waving at Ramattra when he turns. “I do not suppose you could look after [y/n] for awhile? I have an errand to run.” 

Ramattra looks at you, noticing the hesitant smile. “Of course.” He cocks his head to the side, wanting to seem friendlier than what his appearance lets on. 

“Thank you. I will not be long.” Zenyatta gently taps your shoulder as he walks away. You smile gently at his touch before turning your attention to the larger monk as he turns back, facing forward to resume his meditation. 

You took a seat next to him, careful to leave enough space between the two of you, the grass beneath you feeling warm against your knees. The air around you was calm, sun shining warmly on your cheeks as you look out across the mountains. 

No words were said between the two of you, despite Ramattra wanting to talk. He glances down at you every so often, noticing the way your breathing softly and in rhythm to his orb. For once, he realises another purpose of it, to bring you comfort and peace, should you ever sit next to him again. In that moment, he was content with everything. 

He was that content that he never saw his sensors going off in the corner of his vision. His mind was too busy in thought, his guard was down… 

It was the perfect moment for Zenyatta to strike and you were just the distraction and the perfect one you were. Zenyatta knew, he knew quite a lot than what he let on. The way Ramattra looked at you was all he needed to fuel the next act of his play. 

Pulling a harmless prank on Ramattra was not something you had ever wanted to do. You knew who and what he was, what he had done before coming to the Monastery, but having Zenyatta with you only fuelled what little courage you had inside. You sat there, listening to the humming within Ramattra’s body, feeling the warmth on your cheeks before droplets of water rained down on the pair of you. 

“Rain was not on the forecast today.” Ramattra spoke out, head still facing the mountains in front. He raised his hand slowly, but no rain was landing on him. 

You look up, the sky still clear and blue. “Perhaps a sudden burst of rain?” You suggest, knowing exactly what was about to happen. 

“It has stopped.” He remarked. By the time he noticed the warning in his system, it was too late. A sudden splash of cold water hits him in the back, dripping down the metal framework. He lets out a surprised gasp, head tilting back slightly from the sudden cold. Ramattra stands and turns around, head cocking to the side as he speaks. “Brother. Do you think this is funny?”

Zenyatta lowers the water gun and you can tell he has a smug smile behind the expressionless faceplate of his. “Very. Did you think you were free from us?”

Ramattra turns to look at you as you let out a small laugh before standing up, brushing the dirt from your legs. 

“Sorry.” There was a light airy tone to your voice as you smiled, turning to face your partner in crime, a small nod of your head.

The smaller monk raises his weapon again, pointing it directly at Ramattra. 

“Don’t you dare.” Ramattra’s voice was low as he stared down Zenyatta. 

There was no hesitation as Zenyatta fired the water directly at his omnic brother but the water never hits him. Ramattra’s movements were quick as he grabbed your arm and pulled you in front of him. The yelp you gave out as the cold water hits you was all the satisfaction he needed, a smug feeling spreading throughout his body. Ramattra kept you in his grasp as he moves his optics on his brother. 

“I warned you.” He spoke out. “Look at what you have done.” A mockingly pity tone joined his voice. 

You inhale sharply as a breeze passes by, your shirt sticking to your skin as you look at Zenyatta, his head cocking to the side slighty as if to silently apologise. Ramattra’s hands never left your shoulders, keeping you in place, a shield for anymore attacks. 

Ramattra leans down to speak to you, head gently brushing your ear. “That is what you get for being his accomplice.” He chuckles, his proximity making your cheeks warm. “Getting my guard down was one thing, I’ll give you that.” He admits. “Whatever shall I do with you now?” You could hear the playfulness in his tone as you feel him squeeze your shoulders gently, still not removing them from your body.

“Zen-” You speak up.

“No, no, look at me.” Ramattra moved one of his hands, placing his thumb and forefinger on your chin, turning you to look at him. “He cannot help you now.” 

You glance over at Zenyatta who was just standing there, head cocked to the side, watching everything happen.

Ramattra’s circuits warmed up at the sight of you, so helpless, so… cute. 

“In fact…” He looks over at Zenyatta then back at you and the realisation hits you. 

“No- No, don’t you dare!” You look over at your friend who had already raised the water gun at you. “Zen, I swear to-” Before you could even finish, water splashes on your torse, the breeze only adding to cold. Ramattra holds you still, smaller droplets falling down his faceplate from the backsplash. 

Ramattra chuckles again as you struggle, a faint warmth spreading through his chassis. The feelings he felt for you only just grew more and more with your pleas. 

“Zen, stop!” You cry out, laughing as your legs give way, dropping your body to the floor. You keep laughing, leaning back against Ramattra’s legs as you try to catch your breath. Ramattra looks down at you on the ground, relishing in the moment of your laughter. He enjoys listening to your laugh, something of which he won’t admit just yet. He enjoys the change in your body language when you’re comfortable just as much as he enjoys the more timid side of you. Every part of you he adores more and more the longer he’s around you. The monks look at each other, nodding in silence, passing silent words to each other before Zenyatta lowers his weapon and slowly approaches you. 

Ramattra hooks his hands underneath your arms and pulls you up, eliciting a surprised gasp from you. 

“I am sorry, [y/n].” He speaks, standing in front of you.

“I will get you back for that.” You reply to him, subtly accepting his apology. 

Zenyatta chuckles at that before looking up at his brother. “Perhaps you should go inside and dry off before you catch a cold.” 

“I wouldn’t have to if someone didn’t use me as a shield.” You turn and face Ramattra, wiping your cheek as a droplet of water falls down it. 

“My apologies.” He looks down at you, the smugness still coursing through his wires. “Come, my quarters are closer.” He offers his hand out to you, hoping you will accept and when you do, he feels his metal heart skip a beat, his servos warming up at the contact. He notices the blush on your cheeks, how you’ve become shy once more. Ramattra keeps his optics on you before turning and leading you back down the path towards the Monastery, hand still holding yours. He feels your heartbeat pick up, a silent sigh escaping him.

Zenyatta watches on and if he could smile at the sight before him, he would. His plan had worked, and he had you both to thank for that. 

[cyberbirb-arts]

Accompanying piece to a Gency ficlet under the cut! :D

Angela would tirelessly dedicate a good portion of her week to monitor Genji's enhancements, double-checking his oxygen levels and considering new filtration systems for his biotic fluids. She then worried about the adjustments to his cyborg body and new pain medications, second-guessing her own decisions one too many times.

But Genji always reassured Angela that everything was fine, and that if there were any issues he'd tell her at once. He did not like seeing her so stressed and anxious.

He fondly remembers their late night conversations, sharing a dish of her favorite apple pie and cups of stale coffee. He'd listen to Angela ramble for hours about the same subject, boredom never crossing his mind. How much sleep she was getting exactly, however...

Genji found her too often collapsed at her desk; glasses somehow tossed on the floor, papers and documents scattered across, and her tablet dangerously hanging off the edge. He quietly retrieved her readers and caught the tablet in time. He carefully placed a cushion under her cheek and draped a small blanket over her shoulders. It's the least Genji could do, he didn't want to disturb her workspace.

He believed that she always had wings, even without her field suit. But angels needed their rest, too.

"Take care of your own needs as you do for others," he told her. "Please don't leave yourself out."

"I know," she smiled genuinely. "I appreciate you looking out for me."

That evening she was wide awake and the moonlight complimented her pale blonde hair so beautifully, it seemed like tiny golden halos were escaping the loose ponytail. Genji called her ethereal to himself, even as she apologized about her smudged eyeliner and tired, weary smile – all evidence of long hours and few breaks. And the extra coffee probably wasn't the greatest idea. So, her picture-taking skills were a bit clumsy with shaking fingers until Genji held up the other end of the phone.

She waved at him through the screen and started the countdown for the photo timer, but Genji noticed some pie crumbs on her chin.

"Hold still, Angela...", he whispered, using the softest part of his pinky finger to swipe them away.

She laughed, "Quite the professional I am."

"...The best one I know."

She met his gaze, and suddenly Genji wished he didn't plan his return trip to Nepal to contemplate consciousness; a place so far away from the one he could never call home anymore, bearing witness to the great blanket of stars enveloping the snow upon the mountains.

Because at that moment, he fell in love with the entire universe in her eyes.

He entertained the idea briefly, and in his mind he saw Angela's worried expression as she'd approach him, unpacking his bag. Genji would say nothing but tuck a loose piece of her bang behind an ear – the one that would always fall unceremoniously in front of her right eye – he'd selfishly wanted to do that.

Maybe softly kiss her cheek; a quiet thank you for everything.

He'd have to write an extensive apology to Zenyatta, for the desire to stay a little longer with the amazing woman who saved his life...

But of course, he could not stay.

His spiritual path beckoned him to the Shambali once more.

And her hands were full already as an engineer and field medic for Overwatch.

As Genji finally caught himself staring at her after a bit too long, the both of them reluctantly glanced back at the phone screen and their bashful smiles.

Angela silently cradled his gentle hand in hers and nearly gave it a kiss – but she stopped herself.

The camera timer was about to run out.

"Make sure to write me a letter, Genji..."

No one could smile like her.

"I will not forget, Angela."

As beautiful as the Moon.

"...Danke schön."

[dalishthunder]

I'M BACK I'M NOT DEAD. Life's been hella busy and it will be again by the end of the week but I'm taking this little break and typing this while I can lol

As usual, amazing characterization, I'm deeply enjoying ramattra's inner monologue. He's still got these conflicting moments of not particularly caring for human habits/nature (like sleep. ignore that he seriously needs some more metaphorical rest himself) and at the same time appreciating reader's trust to share these moments with him. Also he was laser focused to have counted how many minutes until they stopped snoring lmao I loooove when 'noticing the small details' is taken to this extreme, there's something very endearing about it

Also

“Ramattra?” Your voice was hoarse as you sat up, sucking in air through your teeth and wincing.

“By your side.” He let his orb fall into his hand.

aAAAAAAAAAAAA (read: if i could word things a bit more smartly I'd say besides being heart-achingly sweet this perfectly captures his voice and the DOUBLE MEANING)

Okay now my favorite part of the chapter which is also the fic title THE GAME OF GO, I LITERALLY HAD THE BIGGEST GRIN WHEN I GOT TO THAT PART BC I HAD A FEELING I KNEW WHERE THAT WAS GOING AND IT'S SO MUCH BETTER THAN WHAT I IMAGINED

They let him go first? Okay. They placed the tile right next to his? Okayyy. They kept the board just for him?? Okay Okay. ACTUALLY WINNING?? BEATING HIS ASS AT GO THEN TELLING HIM YOU'RE STICKING TO HIS SIDE NO MATTER WHAT?? *insert that soyjack pointing meme* SYMBOLISM!!! TITLE REFERENCE!!!

This was a great cascade of events and also my favorite part about their dynamic (and how the fic is written), there's always two conversations happening at the same time with them; one with words and one without. And they both seem to see the two happening and it's so delicious

Three last things to note...

1. Ramattra holding back on his fantasies bc that's just silly it's never happening then the second reader goes "I'm staying btw" he immediately stops resisting LMAO

2. Zenyatta keeps getting referenced so I wonder if that's leading up to anything...

3. “… Please don’t ask me to shoot anyone though.” “We shall see.” THAT'S. THAT'S NOT A NO. RAMATTRA THAT'S NOT A NO.

I am so so excited to see what happens next bc reader will be probs directly involved w the decision making now, or at least come in as another factor and Ramattra's not gonna be happy with all of it...

- smile anon but you've probably already guessed hehe

Smile Anon I need you to know how much joy you bring me, sorry your life has been so busy, I definitely understand though (my job sent me on a business trip this week the week before Christmas! My bro has come to visit for the holidays and I miss out on a little bit of that)

I've read this at least 10 times like ... Hhhhhh you're so sweet thank you!

Yes! I have been doing my best to stay true to his voice and character, though I caught a few mistakes in earlier chapters that I went back and corrected bc I'm neurotic lol

I love this omnic so much it's insane, I'm so glad you enjoyed the game of go!!!!

And I love writing conversations where the words aren't the only focus because communication is more than just language

And yeah, it definitely was not a no 😏

[ink-flavored]

💞💥💌

Thank you friend! <3

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

Jeez, this is a hard one. I think I have the most fun with world-building, and I personally click off of most stories that don't use proper grammar/paragraph breaks/dialogue tags so that's obviously important to me as a writer, but overall I'd say that having strong characters is what's really going to make or break a story.

You can have the most action-packed plot in the world, tailor it perfectly to the hero's journey, make the perfect 3-Act Structure Narrative, etc. etc.. But if people don't enjoy reading about the characters who have to carry out the decisions in your plot, the story is boring. How many people have stuck around for the compelling characters in a story with a thin or uninteresting plot, compared to unlikable or flat characters in fascinating circumstances?

The characters can and should inform your plot. If your characters aren't compelling, the plot dies with them. That's my philosophy, at least, and I'm sure there are people out there who disagree, but when I write, I always aim for interesting, well-rounded characters.

💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.

According to my AO3 stats, the least kudos'd fic on my account, at 8 total kudos, is The Price of Oblivion. It's an old Overwatch fic that was supposed to be multichapter, but sadly I lost interest in it very quickly.

I actually do think the initial concept for this fic is one of the sickest I've ever had. Steampunk, eldritch magic, sentient robots, cyborgs, necromancy, there was a lot going on under the hood. It was supposed to be an expansion of a one-shot called Oblivion that I wrote for Zenyatta Appreciation Week 2018��which, for the record, is my highest kudos'd Overwatch fic. So I definitely had a good concept! I still love the one-shot! But sadly the writing juices never materialized. It happens.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

Well, those subscribed to me on Ko-Fi will have already read this, but I am STOKED to post Day 15 of AU-gust '22 on AO3 next month. Here's a little piece:

One case closed this month concerning the annual corrupt member on the Domino Chapter of the Mage’s Guild, and silence ever since. His other cases had gone cold, his leads dead or skipped town to avoid being traced. As much as his mentors liked to say otherwise, having a reputation had only made his life harder. Not that he blamed them for wanting to get as far away as possible.

Someone next door had been thinking extensively about the state of their home repairs for the past hour. His other neighbor couldn’t wait to get down to the pub after nightfall. The pair walking down the hall held nothing but contempt for each other, despite the friendly conversation. A new patron walked in the door of the office complex thinking unspeakable things about a stranger they’d seen on the street.

Atem was in all their heads. Whether he wanted to be or not.

If you love sad wet detectives, this is going to be a fun one.

[send me a fic writer ask]

[anonthefold]

I've noticed that mechanically I am getting much better at ow. It is like the more I play the better I get! Who would have thought?! I did some comp yesterday and did pretty well ( so far 5-2) but damn I had some weird games. One game we got rolled by a group that was waaaaaay above my current skill level. I managed to stay alive as much as their support and throw decent numbers but they were very aggressive and I just couldn't adjust to help the team. The rest have been close but sort of easy. When I say that I mean I had to focus on what I was doing more often and really just enable the other teammates to do work. At this level I know I struggle with when to use coalescence. I feel like I'm playing at a gold level and just burning opponents down becomes significantly less realistic. Plus putting myself out of position is a lot more punishing. Ended the night out with running a couple dozen games of quickplay with my friend which honestly helped me after the type of day I had. I appreciate her company and the fact that she likes to play and improve. She's not outwardly judgemental and as far as temperament has a very similar disposition as I do. Plus she is one of the few people that I don't feel awkward around if it is just quiet. Unfortunately with most of my friends I feel a need to fill the conversational void at times and it can lead me to saying some really stupid things. It was a lot of fun though. I probably played longer than I should have because I was super exhausted and began just running on auto pilot which doesn't add much to absorbing information but I want to see if we can at least max her BP. I was working on more advanced moira movement tech but that is only as effective as the maps you get. I did do a little bit of Zenyatta which was fun but I would need a lot more practice with him to better utilize his abilities. I'm not sure that I will prioritize him because I still want to practice my Bap and Kiriko. But it's nice to just get a change of rotations going. After the little gaming session I thanked my friend for the company and went to bed. I am trying to get better at showing my appreciation for others because I hear it in my head but that doesn't translate to the people it's directed towards. I could probably do better in how I word it in the future though. This is all so awkward for me. But in general I feel like I am actually learning a lot. I'm really happy about these last few weeks despite having their own hardships and all.

[zenyattaappreciationweek]

HELLO!

So, I thought Zenyatta deserved a week of appreciation, so here we go! This blog is rearing to go, but I need to give some info and ask for your cooperation!

Please spread this post so lots of ppl see it and want to participate! We’re all united within the Iris, so let’s try to make this a positive, happy time for everybody and show Zen some love :D

VOTING PERIOD IS OVER

poll will be up for a week, from today until next friday so please vote!

Rules so far

both sfw and nsfw is allowed, but nsfw posts need to be tagged for nsfw and will be under a cut. if they are images, edits or pictures, there will be a need for a sfw preview, so everybody can browse without worry

both shipping and gen stuff is allowed! please feel free to indulge as long as ZENYATTA is the actual focus! That’s important!

rarepairs are welcome! give the bot some love and use this chance to make him feel all the love!

any content is also allowed -fanart, fanfics, sfm, playlists, crafts, etc! as long as it’s Zenyatta-centric!

you can either submit to the blog when the time comes, or make your own post and then tag it #zenweek2018 or #zenyattaweek2018 which i will track, so i see everything :)

tag everything accordingly, let’s keep things easy to find and avoid clutters. tag ships if it applies to your entry, tag possible triggers or sensitive content.

feel free to shoot me an ask here or to my main blog (linked in the info bio) for anything you wish to know

What’s missing

We need prompts or a theme! So please feel free to submit ideas, the more the merrier! Ideal would be to have one or two every day, so there’s some choice for people to go with :)

Also very important

I know that not just content creators are part of the fandom, but that leaves a lot of people who cannot contribute! So what can you do if you are not a content creator?

Reblog, spread the news, COMMENT and add lots of tags when entries start rolling around! Make sure your content creators KNOW you’re backing them up!

But that’s not all. I’m considering adding a free space for not content creators, like... for each day, you can add your input! headcanons, meta, when you fell in love with Zen or how you decided he was interesting, that sort of thing... so you can participate, too, spread more ideas around, and who knows, make some friends :D

Ok so for now that’s it. Please don’t mind how bare the blog is for now, I’ve just created it today and it needs lots of tweaking around still.

[livingthedragonlife]

Oblivion

fandom: overwatch

series: zenyatta appreciation week 2018

warnings: n/a

words: 3520

summary:  They still whisper about him, on dark and lonely days, when the rain is violent, and the winds show no mercy. They call him insane in the same breath they call him a savior. They say he barely counts as a hero, for heroes do not often walk and live in shadows. They call him the Monk.

[ao3]

They still whisper about him, on dark and lonely days, when the rain is violent, and the winds show no mercy. They call him insane in the same breath they call him a savior. They say he barely counts as a hero, for heroes do not often walk and live in shadows. They call him the Monk.

To them, he has no other name. He is simply a title, a faceless being for people to project their worst fears and darkest illusions. He worships no god, no material being, no spirit or realm, but a being of catastrophe. A timeless, ageless, pseudo-god that shows paths only to destruction and chaos. He worships a being beyond the comprehension of any mortal, including the Monk himself. He says nothing more of the thing he worships – will not even speaks its name – only stating that it lives and walks in the darkest and deepest of shadows, hiding in the crevices of the mind. He does not preach his gospel, nor what this creature of wanton destruction asks of its followers, and the floating Eyes that circle his neck keep people from asking questions.

The Monk is the last resort. The black-cloaked figure, tentacles made of machinery, hovering eerily above the dirt, is a well of deep and dangerous power, and none choose him unless they must. But they never find him before he finds them. He always arrives when the people become desperate, and his only explanation for finding them so quickly in their hour of need is, “The Iris of the Universe always watches.”

Along with the mysterious traveler is his companion, known only as the Swordsman. They’re not sure he even has a name, for the Monk never uses it, and the Swordsman has never been inclined to introduce himself. He dresses in similar robes to the one he follows, dark and flowing, a wicked sword strapped to his back. His head is covered by a cone-shaped hat that hides his face, but when he looks underneath the wide-brim, only his eyes are visible, glowing an angry red. The rest of his face covered by a strange metal casing, stopping only at his neck. Some believe he can’t speak. Some say he chooses not to.

The two are always seen together, and the Monk claims they serve the same creature, the Iris. Some whisper that the Monk created the Swordsman to serve him. Some say he was enslaved to serve the Iris and its followers. None can say for sure, but the two travelers themselves. And they never speak of how they met.

All in all, a perplexing duo to wander throughout the land, righting wrongs where they see fit, and asking for no material wealth in return.

But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a price.

 “Look there, my apprentice,” the Monk murmurs. “It appears we have found what the Iris is seeking.”

The Swordsman steps to the side of his master, swift as an eagle’s graceful dive, and gazes down at the quaint village from their perch on the side of the overhang, seeing clearly despite the night’s darkness. His Eyes glance to the Monk. He observes the place from their far away perch like a wolf stalking a lame deer. The tentacles on his face move, gently twist around themselves and the others, as if each of them has a mind of their own. His arms rest in his lap as he floats above the ground, lotus position. The floating Eyes encased in metal and gears rest like a grotesque necklace around the Monk’s neck, looking in all directions. Servants of the Iris who did not serve correctly, or enough.

All at once, the Eyes swivel around to look at the Swordsman, gently pulsating green light. The man’s own eyes glow red as he tips back the brim of his hat to gaze into the disturbing jewelry. The Iris of the Universe gave him the blessing of speech, but only the Monk can hear him. The black-cloaked figure tilts his head as he listens. The Swordsman’s hands twitch, aching for the pommel of his sword.

“Peace, gentle warrior,” the Monk says, without irony. “We are not needed for a fight just yet.”

The Monk taps his fingers against each other, making little metallic clicks as his joints move and fingertips touch. He wears a bracelet on each wrist, large and black, inscribed with green runes in the language of the Iris. The Swordsman thinks they look like manacles, but the Monk does not agree. They don’t agree on a lot of things.

“The Iris tells me we are in the correct place,” the Monk says, turning away to travel back down the cliff. “Come, dear apprentice. There will be a fight soon enough.”

The Swordsman follows, looking one last time over his shoulder. Something crawls down his spine and chills his heart – they are not alone.

 “Whadda you want?”

“My companion and I,” the Monk says, gesturing to himself, and then the Swordsman, “only wish to stay the night in your delightful little town.”

The crooked man at the gate bites on his lower lip with the remainder of his yellowed teeth, then fishes a key ring out of his pocket, and unlocks the gate for the travelers.

“Don’t be causin’ no trouble, now,” he warns them.

“Oh, we won’t,” the Monk promises. He looks the man in the eye as he passes into the town, and so do all of the other Eyes. “Embrace oblivion, my friend.”

The man grasps his chest and steps backward, as if he’d be shoved. The Swordsman follows his master, nodding as he passes. The man watches them go, swallowing thickly as he closes the gate and returns to his watch.

The darkness is heavy, no moon or stars to light their way, only the light posts – glass boxes with flickering candles – show the way. But the Monk and the Swordsman walk the streets as though they’d lived in the village their whole lives. They enter the first tavern they see, The White Whip.

The interior is almost empty, save for a few lonely drinkers. The owner is wiping down the bar, and looks up to see his new customers. He begins to smile, and then it falters.

“Welcome to the White Whip,” he says, nerves creeping into his voice. “What can I get for you?”

“Thank you, Caius, but we’re not here to drink,” the Monk says, waving his hand dismissively.

Caius’ eyes widen, and he takes a step back. “How…do you know my name?”

The Monk’s entourage of floating Eyes turn to the man and glow. “The Iris knows many things, good man.”

Caius freezes, swallows, and looks down at the counter. “I – if you’re here for a room, we’re all full up.”

The Monk laughs, but it holds no humor. “It’s not very polite to lie to a paying customer.” He pulls a pouch out from his belt, and drops a few coins onto the counter. “Now, you have at least one room available, don’t you? Upstairs, the third door on the left?”

Caius squeezes his eyes shut. Beads of sweat trail down his forehead. “How –”

“Is it available?”

“Yes! Yes. Gods, just stop looking at me.”

The Monk flicks his wrist and the Eyes return to their natural state. “The key?”

Caius wipes his brow with one shaking hand, and uses the other to snatch a key from under the counter. He drops it in front of the Monk like it burns him and swipes up the coins like they’ll cure the injury.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” the Monk says, lifting the key from the counter and pocketing it. “Embrace oblivion.”

He floats to the stairwell, the Swordsman not far behind. Caius watches them leave, and collapses onto the bar counter, shaking and in tears, once they reach the top of the stairs. He never speaks of what the Iris said to him. Not to anyone.

 The next morning, the Monk and the Swordsman are downstairs in the tavern, sitting at a table in a shadowed corner. They buy no food and no drink. The Monk hovers in place above one of the chairs, shuffling a deck of cards absent mindedly. The Swordsman leans against the wall, crossing his arms, nearly invisible in the darkness that clings to the wood. The Monk deals a deck of cards to himself and four empty chairs. He sends one Eye to each of the four places, studying his own cards.

The cards in front of the Eyes begin to move by themselves, playing the game. The Swordsman watches the Monk’s deck over his hooded shoulder, and points to a card or speaks to his master with the remaining Eyes. The red and green glow eerily as they communicate.

A ragged man approaches the table, holding a threadbare cap in his hands. “I d-don’t mean t’ bother you sirs, but –”

“Would you like to be dealt in?” the Monk asks, not looking up from his cards. “The game is called Băo Huáng – I’d be happy to teach it to you.”

“N-No thank you,” the man says. “I just…wanted to know if you’s the fightin’ kind.”

The Monk looks up from his cards, and waves his hand. The four Eyes return to his neck, the cards falling and scattering. He snaps his fingers and the cards stack themselves in a neat pile in the center of the table. The Swordsman straightens, tipping back the brim of his hat to look at the man, his hands noticeably fidgeting.

“We have been known to assist in such matters,” the Monk says. “Please, sit.” He gestures as if welcoming someone to his home, and a chair pulls itself out in front of the man.

Warily, he sits, shooting nervous glances at the Swordsman. “I work in the mine jus’ outside of town, and we’ve got a bit of a… problem.”

“Something that has killed a great number of workers, I take it?” the Monk says, his fingers steepled on the table.

“Yes, sir,” the man says, nodding vigorously. “It’s a terrible creature – been here for months. No one’s been able t’ do anythin’ about it.”

The Eyes whip around to look at the Swordsman, and start glowing intensely. The man jumps, but the Monk holds his hand out to calm him. The man nods, staring at the glowing Eyes.

The Monk tilts his head. “My companion wishes to know what manner of beast this creature is.”

“Well, I-I don’t rightly know, sir,” the man says, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s a giant...metal spider, y’see.”

“A giant metal spider?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds silly, but I swear on my own life, it’s real.”

The Monk nodded. “Very well. Tell us where the mine is, and we shall defeat this… metal spider.”

The man immediately blurts out a stream of directions, drawing an invisible map on the table with his fingers. When he stops, he’s almost out of breath. “Thank you, a thousand times, stranger. Myself, I’m not very rich, but I could get the other miners to –”

The Monk throws back his head and laughs. “Your coin means nothing to me. I have no use for it.”

“I – well, if you’re sure –”

“But there will be a price.”

“Y-you just said that –”

“A price does not always mean coin, my friend,” the Monk says, and all of his Eyes turn to look at the man. He swallows. “You will know when your time comes to pay.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

The Monk claps his hands and stands up, and Eyes all returning to normal. “I think we should start looking for this creature.” He looks back at the Swordsman. “Don’t you agree?”

The Swordsman nods, and lowers the brim of his hat back over his eyes once again.

The Monk looks to the miner one last time. “Embrace oblivion.”

 The mine is just on the outskirts of the little town, in the lowest cave of a nearby mountain. Mine carts and pickaxes litter the ground, and a sign on the entrance to the cave reads “North Peak Mine – CONDEMNED.”

“Ready your blade, my apprentice,” the Monk says. The slither of metal on metal rings as the Swordsman takes his sword out of its sheath. His hands grip the hilt, fitting as though they belong there. The Swordsman takes the lead into the mine, and the Monk follows close behind him.

The North Peak is dark. The oil torches have long-since burned away the last of their fuel, and any lanterns are shattered, glass strewn across the cave floor. The Monk uses the glow of the Eyes, in lieu of any proper light source, trailing them ahead of the two so they could see where they were walking.

The Swordsman listens carefully for any sign of movement – ahead, behind, above, or below. For what feels like hours, nothing.

Eventually, the Monk and the Swordsman come across a magnificent room, the claustrophobic corridors of the mine even smaller in comparison. It opens up from other tunnels like a bee hive, all leading back to this chamber. It’s as big as a cathedral, with tunnels and holes all up and down the walls. Tunnels that are too big to be the mine’s.

A skittering noise, like the click of a thousand teeth, echoes all around the chamber. The Swordsman readies himself, dropping into a defensive stance. The Monk spins his hands around one of the Eyes, and it floats above the Swordsman’s head, a tendril of golden light connecting to him.

“Walk in the shadows, my apprentice,” the Monk says.

The Swordsman nods, and hugs the wall, listening to the echo, searching for the source.

A loud boom echoes throughout all the tunnels as something giant drops from the ceiling of the chamber. A ball of metal falls into the center of the room, and as it uncurls, it reveals eight elongated legs, four red, glowing eyes, a bulbous body, and pincers like daggers. It shrieks, a sound like a million bats dying, and the Swordsman holds his head in his hands, trying to block the sound. The Monk is unphased.

The Monk’s Eyes glow with green energy, and shoot out toward the face of the screaming creature. They crash against the metal, shattering one of its eyes, and knocking free one of its pincers. It stops screaming. Instead, it whips towards the Monk.

The Swordsman dashes at lightening speed, cutting off the spider and slashing at one of its front legs. The spider moves the leg, and another ball of energy crashes into the other. It rears up in pain, and slashes at the Swordsman.

He ducks out of the way, slipping underneath the arched leg, and slicing at the body. The sword glances off the metal hide, and the spider’s front-middle leg, thrashes out and kicks the Swordsman back. The impact sends him flying, and he crashes against the wall.

The Monk shoots another volley of green energy at one of the front legs, and hits the second joint, breaking the limb nearly in half. The leg goes limp, sparking, and the spider screams again.

The Swordsman stands, shakily, encased in golden light. A stomach wound, bleeding heavily, closes and the blood vanishes. His crooked arm snaps back into place.

“Go for the legs!” the Monk shouts at him.

The Swordsman dashes toward the spider, and it skitters toward him, dragging its broken leg. He slashes at the unbroken leg, but the spider leaps at him, trying to gouge him with its remaining pincer. The Swordsman leans back, holding his sword in front of him protectively.

Three balls of energy hit the side of the spider’s head, and the spider recoils. The Swordsman jumps into the air, and lands on the spider’s back, shoving his sword down.

The spider screeches louder than ever, thrashing around, trying to throw off its unwanted rider. The Swordsman doesn’t budge, instead twisting his sword deeper into the mechanical beast.

The spider jumps into the air, landing on the edge of one of the highest tunnels, its lame leg dangling in the air. The Swordsman, hanging on to his sword as tight as he can, dangles from the beast as it tries to shake him off.

The sword starts to slip.

The Swordsman can feel his blade start to ease its way out of the thrashing beast. He also knows a fall from this height will kill him, regardless of the Monk’s magic.

The sword is hanging on by the very tip. The spider gives one last thrust out.

And the Swordsman is falling.

He closes his eyes and waits for death until –

P̳̬͉̲̟ͣ́̽Â̧̻̠̫̎̎͑͑̓̿͂S̛͔͙̘̫̗̳̐̌͌͒̓͛͢S͇̰̮̬͔͊́ͨ̇̌͢ ̢̜̮̝̭͚̚ͅI͒ͤ̑̎ͤ̒̌ͥN̢̞͕̮͔̰̰̞ͭ̈ͪ͑̌ͨ̎̅̐͘T̥͍͓̯̼̻̱̿̐͌̅̿̌̾̓ͤ́O̮͓͎͑̒ͤ̊̎͜͡ ̵͓̒̈̄͂̆͊ͥ̂̓T͙̜͂̐̑̀͟͜H̖̣͙͍̺͖͉ͭ̍͊̌ͅE̵͚̜̻͍̩̓͗̍̈ͤͯ͆ͩ̈ ̤͙̝̞̐̋̋̎́̚͞Ụ̡̬̪̈ͯͨͤͬͣN̎̊ͯ͝͏̱͎̝͜K̷̉̈́̏̈͏͖̲N̛̙̝̣̭̮̦͇̟ͣ̉̎̿ͮ͊̿O̡̨̡̯̗̜̭̙͈̮͎̹ͤW̻͎̹͇̎̓̇̾N͊͋̾ͨͬͣ̋͒͏͕͔̼̰. ̫͂ͣ

A voice from beyond the furthest reaches of existence rings through the mouth of the Monk. His Eyes encompass the whole of their casing, eight ethereal, purple tentacles extend from his back. He floats above the ground and flies. And a giant, green eye is wide open behind him, glowing with power. It watches him. It watches the world. It watches everything. It knows everything.

The Monk and the Iris of the Universe have become one.

The Swordsman hits the floor, but it feels cushioned, like landing on a pile of blankets. He bounces back to his feet, and watches the spider skitter up the tunnel.

The Monk returns to his natural state, though dazed, not even having the energy to float. He lands on two feet, his knees buckling, and sending him to the ground. The Swordsman rushes over to him, supporting him with an arm.

The Monk hangs onto his shoulder tightly. “I saved your life, it’s your turn to save mine, dear apprentice.”

Behind his metal casing, the Swordsman smiles.

He takes his master to sit against a wall, and grips his sword in both hands again. And waits.

The skittering is quiet, far away. Then it gets closer. And closer, and closer.

It drops from the ceiling, but this time, the Swordsman is ready. He leaps to the side, watching the beast uncurl itself. He dashes into the air, and swings down onto the spider’s legs.

The front-middle leg from the broken side goes lame with a slash of the sword. The spider collapses to the ground, unable to support its own weight. It scrambles helplessly as the Swordsman slashes at it back legs. Blasts of green energy attack the other side of the spider, the Monk now able to stand on his feet.

Blast after blast, slash after slash, the spider falls still. Its legs are completely severed from its body when the two are done with it, and all four eyes are shattered.

The Monk walks over to the Swordsman, who is surveying the beast, making sure it’s dead.

“I think our work here is done,” the Monk says.

The Swordsman nods, and is about to sheathe his sword, when he hears something.

Or…feels something.

The Monk can feel it, too. He looks all around, trying to find the source.

“Well done, ‘travelers.’”

The Swordsman spins around, blade held out and ready.

The Witch of the Wilds appears, clapping slowly as she strides into the chamber. Her wings are folded behind her, book and broom at her side.

“I thought I might find you here,” she says. “And hello to you too, Zenyatta.”

The Monk dips his head in acknowledgement. “We meet again.”

“You know what I’m here for, then.”

The Swordsman tightens his grip. The Monk places a hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, I am aware. But I don’t think you’ll be getting it.”

The Witch laughs, cold and merciless. “Oh, foolish monk. I saved him from the clutches of death. We have a pact forged in blood. I own him.”

The Monk shrugs. “I suppose I cannot interfere with such powerful magic.”

“See? We’re all in agreement. Come here, Genji. Now.”

The Swordsman didn’t budge. He stands tall and sheaths his sword on his back, stepping behind his master.

The Witch’s face screws up in fury. “I said come!”

The Swordsman does not move.

“You see,” the Monk says, returning to his floating lotus position. “I cannot interfere with such powerful magic. But the Iris has no qualms about such things.”

The Witch’s mouth drops open in shock. “How? I – I muzzled him! I stole his dragon! He cannot speak to reverse the oath!”

The Eyes all turn toward the Swordsman and glow.

The Monk tilts his head. “My apprentice says that the Iris gave him a new voice. And that his dragon will have revenge soon enough.”

The Witch balls her fists, and hisses through clenched teeth, “You have not seen the end of me.”

She spreads her wings and disappears in a flash of white light.

In her place, a raven flaps into the tunnel, and drops a letter into the Monk’s lap. He unties the ribbon and reads it, holding it so both he and the Swordsman can see.

“I believe we have a new destination, my apprentice.”

The Eyes turn to the Swordsman and glow. Yes, Master.

[killthemwithdoodles]

Day 5 for Zen Week! A little more about Zenyatta’s time before he was Zenyatta, with guest star Genji!

[acradelius]

Uhm, hey!

Sorry if this place is not the right place to drop requests, but oh well, here we go...

Could you do some NSFW Zenyatta with the Sunyatta skin x male reader (preferably, if you vam) with Zen being dominant hehe. I'm really intrigued to see how you would write him, Sunyatta is just hnnngh- sooo good! Some smut with Zen's best friend would be much appreciated! ;)

PS. I have a massive crush on Sunyatta's claws a-and I'd love for you to include them, anyhow you want! <3

"I AM YOUR GOD"

Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2

Pairing: "Sunyatta" (Tekhartha Zenyatta) x M!Reader

Rating: Lemon [🟡] (NSFW!)

Warnings/Mention Ofs: College Student! Reader, Human x Omnic Relations, Religious Aspects/Themes, Worshipping, Praise, Implied Manipulation, Obsessive Themes, Submissive Male Reader, Dominant Zenyatta, Slight Oral Fixation, Omnic Receiving! Blowjob, Robotic Cock Attachment, Claws, Scratching, Causing Wounds, Bleeding, Profanities, Orgasm, "Open"/Closed Ending

Word Count: 1,764 Words

Author's Note: robo dick robo dick robo dick

 There was something about studying abroad from the country you’ve spent your whole life growing up and living in, that was definitely something that (Y/N) could agree with. There was something about being able to wander throughout the bustling streets of Cairo, Egypt, taking the miraculous sights of the cultural events happening throughout the town, tasting the amazing exotic food that trying to describe the taste was just so difficult from how good it tasted. There was just something about going out to those night activities with some buddies from the university and leaving Cairo, sneaking into some ancient ruins of Giza Plateau, which started to make (Y/N) feel somewhat anxious about getting caught, and ending up awakening an ancient god from his slumber. Yet, there weren't any feelings of fearfulness, no feelings of ongoing dread despite the unknown words that proceeded to echo off the walls of the ruin and that booming, threatening tone of voice. If anything there was that feeling of inquisitiveness, that yearning desire to figure out who exactly this devine god was and what exactly he was capable of. 

What exactly had happened after that was uncertain to any of the trespassing members there, only brief moments that they could remember that wasn’t much to explain or too conflicting to process what exactly had happened. Yet, there was a certain amount of things that (Y/N) knew every time he would sneak out from Cairo back to those ancient ruins of the Giza Plateau to visit the god over and over again. 

Being able to worship him was such an honor. 

Being acknowledged by him was such an honor. 

Sunyatta reciprocating (Y/N)’s romantic feelings was such an honor. 

🔅          ����           🔅          🔅          🔅          🔅          🔅           🔅

It was becoming more and more difficult to maintain healthy boundaries with Sunyatta, seeing that everything else around (Y/N) was seemingly falling apart. He was struggling with his studies, finding himself missing more and more classes, failing more and more exams to the point he was on the verge of failing and being evicted from his classes. (Y/N) was struggling to maintain relationships with other people, including his own family, coming up with various excuses as to why he couldn’t socialize with them. Overall, he was neglecting his responsibilities, besides what had been ingrained into his mind as the most important one: to return to Sunyatta and worship him with everything he had. It had merely begun as something that had taken place every couple of weeks, but over time and spending more time with Sunyatta became more frequent in time, at this point it had been that (Y/N) was sneaking out almost every night to see him, spending countless hours with him. Tonight, happened to once again be one of those nights, Sunyatta having promised him a reward for his excellent dedication and loyalty. 

It doesn’t take that long for him to reach their usual meeting place, (Y/N)’s arms full of various objects to offer to Sunyatta, but had stopped within his tracks upon hearing him begin to speak. “You’re such an exquisite, loyal follower (Y/N),” Sunyatta began to address as he began to enclose the distance between them, not bothering to even glance at the items that were being carried, picking them up precisely with his serrated claws and merely tossing them aside until (Y/N)’s arms were empty. “You bring me various items, various items that you have believed to bring me delight, which they were in the beginning,” (Y/N)’s attention had been focused on watching the claws disperse them items onto the ground before glancing up at Sunyatta as he spoke, but was focused back onto the claws as they seemingly twirled and danced within his vision before one had started to prod at his lips, which he unconsciously opened his mouth slightly for them to enter into his mouth. “There’s only so many materialistic items that can be offered to someone such as myself to keep oneself appeased.” There’s a slight hesitation from (Y/N), almost stepping away from Sunyatta. Did his gifts not happen to be good enough for the god? Was there something more that he could offer to keep Sunyatta appeased? Multiple times (Y/N)’s mouth parted open to say something, but instead he was interrupted by Sunyatta speaking once again, “You’re next offering, I want it to be your body. Your physical pleasure~”

There’s an unaccounted time that passes that brings (Y/N) to this moment, being down upon his knees in front of the god, proceeding to softly whine as he gripped at Sunyatta’s loin cloth, beginning to be used for Sunyatta’s own pleasure. “You must be patient, as you need to be prepped for what is bound to come~ For the time being, you need to enjoy the show~” Sunyatta simply ignores whatever response (Y/N) might have gave, if he happened to give any response at all, and proceeds to begin by trailing his claws across (Y/N)’s flesh, watching as he would momentarily flinch as Sunyatta would press his claws deeper into (Y/N)’s flesh to leave scratches, sometimes deep enough to where blood would start spotting from said scratches. Then begins the removal of (Y/N)’s clothes, but not in any old-fashioned way, oh no~ Sunyatta does as he stated, taking his time and “removes” the clothing by simply shredding them to pieces, watching as with each more piece of clothing there’s of (Y/N)’s bare skin being revealed, more bare, unmarked skin for his beloved god to mark up. Scratch after scratch after scratch~ 

“Sunyatta,” There he was upon his knees beneath the one that he could only focus on at the moment, visibly trembling underneath the claws, bucking his hips against the air as if that would relieve some friction to his hardening, throbbing cock. “Open your mouth widely, it’s time to prepare yourself for the next phase of our delightful worship session~” (Y/N) wasn’t one to complain, as he could only imagine the pleasure to come. He was sure that if he obeyed and did what he was told to do, that he would be rewarded greatly. Opening his mouth widely he had stuck out his tongue, allowing there to be more room, and proceeded to take two claw tips into his mouth, treading with caution to explore them with his tongue. Being met with praise he let out a muffled groan, one of his hands once again tugging at Sunyatta’s loincloth all while the other one was trailing down to his own cock, beginning to slowly stroke the length. Continuing to address the claws within his mouth, not minding the faint taste of iron from having nicked his tongue. Upon the removal of the claws there’s a disappointed groan before it turned into a muffled noise of surprise as he felt something foreign enter his mouth, the texture being warm, but having a silicone based exterior. Upon opening his eyes he’s met with Sunyatta’s loincloth having been pushed to the side, realizing that apparently his beloved had his own cock, and he was being blessed with having the opportunity to pleasure Sunyatta’s cock with his mouth. Upon resting his hands upon Sunyatta’s thighs (Y/N) can feel the faint vibrations, a slight mechanical noise as the cock within his mouth begins to not only vibrate, but also rotate as well. (Y/N) figures that Sunyatta’s getting close to an orgasm, seeing the way that one of his hands was placed firmly on (Y/N)’s head, helping him take the length of his cock down his throat. 

🔅          🔅           🔅          🔅          🔅          🔅          🔅           🔅

It becomes difficult to focus upon anything with all the vibrating and rotating features of Sunyatta’s cock being activated within (Y/N)’s ass, causing him to clench tightly and have the tip of Sunyatta’s cock rub roughly against his prostate, causing him to cry out. He can’t help but absolutely love the way that Sunyatta is handling him, ass up in the air while his face is rubbing harshly against the ground, Sunyatta having one of (Y/N)’s arms pulled back while the other one rests on (Y/N)’s back, slowly etching scratches into his back that spell out his name. “You’ve come to realize that this is your future, yes?” Sunyatta hums, leaning down to whisper the words into (Y/N)’s ear, chuckling afterwards at watching the drool leak out of the corner of (Y/N)’s mouth and onto the ground, him not being able to speak a complete, understandable sentence without letting those sultry moans and pleas echo out into the open. “Your future is here with me, (Y/N)!~ You will serve me, treat me as your master!~ You will worship me, worship the very ground I walk upon!~” 

Sunyatta, beginning to lose his calm and collected pace and speed, began to thrust his hips quickly and disorganized, occasionally slamming his hips against (Y/N)’s ass to stretch him out, merely addressing it as preparation for future physical worshiping sessions. Leaning forward Sunyatta released the hold upon (Y/N)’s arm, using it to reach around and wrap around his neck, pulling his head back. “Maintain eye contact with me as we cum together, alright, (Y/N)~” Another whine, another string of saliva spilling from (Y/N)’s lips and onto the ground below, trying to maintain eye contact but finding it difficult to do so. Profanities echo throughout the air, a casual “F-Fuck, your cock feels so good!~ T-Too good!!~” followed by Sunyatta’s “Continue taking me cock, show me how much you actually love worshiping me!~” That pleasurable, twisting gut feeling becomes almost too much, even despite the pain of Sunyatta digging his claws deeply into (Y/N)’s skin, trails of blood being smeared across his skin, partially staining it a light red. “Cum, cum with me, (Y/N)!~ Cum with your god!~” It’s almost instantaneously that (Y/N)’s body begins to violently tremble underneath Sunyatta, crying out as he rides out his orgasm by weakly riding it out against Sunyatta’s cock that still had yet to cease its vibrations and rotation. Sunyatta’s hot, hot to the touch that is, but that doesn’t prevent him from beginning to thrust his hips against (Y/N) once again, chuckling softly. “I am your god, (Y/N)~ No one else can make you feel this way~ Don’t you ever forget that~”

[leorawright]

bro I'm so happy that reqs are open this idea's been plaguing me all week Lucio, Baptiste, Soldier, and Zenyatta with an S/o who's a serious fantasy nerd? maybe they play D&d or smthn and often bounce ideas off of them, use them to practice improv and character voices, and just have a really good evil laugh? S/o definitely shows their love through quality time and sharing ideas/showing them things. Definitely big on cuddles too. I think these boys with a lil nerd would be so cute.

Thank you, and have a wonderful day/night!

Omg yesssss

Overwatch with s/o who's a fantasy nerd

Lucio

Bro he's hyped to hear all of your ideas

He'll come up with so many different characters when he's with you

You also help him perfect his evil laugh but he always accidentally bursts into adorable giggles

He'd be ecstatic if you invited him to a D&D game with you

Baptiste

I think he likes fantasy but not as intense as you

He's happy to provide advice on any character ideas you have or help come up with backstories though

He'd be down for a D&D session every now and then if you invite him

Your evil laugh surprises him but he's worked with Reaper before so he has a good supervillain laugh

Soldier 76

He's a little skeptical at your ideas at first

But he sees how much imagination you have so he starts joining in

He's gonna need some help coming up with characters and he appreciates your help

It's so strange to see a 55 year old man playing D&D but he's having fun with you

Zenyatta

He's happy to listen to your ideas and he loves your wide imagination

If you help him create a character he might play some D&D with you

He's actually really good at improv (hence his many different backstories he has for himself)

[ya-zz]

So you play overwatch, I would assume.

Who’d you play as for each cat.?

I appreciate the 33 notifications LMAO

Alrighty, so, I play flex when I'm not doing dailies or I don't know who/what to play. (Not that it matters because whenever I play on my own, I NEVER get dps unless it's backfill)

For tank:

D.va

Orisa

Ramattra

Sigma

I used to be a tank main back in Ow1. Had no fear. I think two weeks before Ow2, I got my first ever ult team kill as D.va. Deadass watched the POTG a few times to understand how it happened. I was utterly speechless.

For dps:

Cassidy

Junkrat

Mei

Reaper

Soldier: 76

Fun fact- Cassidy was the first hero I bought a golden weapon for because I used to play him a lot on PS4... Aim has gone to shit now though, but I can still play him. Reaper was actually my first main when I first started playing back in 2017 (Although the hours were spent on my brothers account haha)

For support:

Ana

Lifeweaver

Mercy

Moira

Zenyatta

Listen- I can play all of them but these guys are the ones I play the most. Lucio usually gets used when I feeling a little silly or when I'm in skirmish. I have 100 hours on Mercy, but I don't play her as much anymore just because I started playing Ana more. Kinda got bored playing Mercy honestly, but in Comp, I'll play her when I need to.

These are the ones I play the most, despite what my profile says. My least played is Junkerqueen at 23 mins - I just can't seem to play her right. I'm surprised Doomfist isn't the least played because I absolutely hate playing him...

[lacertae-dreamscape]

Did you know today is the start of the Zenyatta Appreciation Week?

So let's kickstart it with my own entry!

Day 01 - Intertwined

my own take on soulmates is... i want it to be a choice, and i feel it would be important for both if it were to be so.

[suave-bagel]

day one of zenyatta appreciation week! “beginnings”

[l4dgirlsadventures]

I’M ALIVE!!! Back here with some Genyatta fanart for Genyatta week! Wooooo-This one’s for day one: Movie Night. They decided to stay home for cuddling n fluffy stuff like that for Movie Night. Zen just wants to comfortably watch the movie cuddling w/ his cyborg bf while Genji’s just like heart eyes loudly.

[p-cruz]

Day 3 - Echoes/Resonance

I believe dragon's orb is their energy source.

The Zenyatta Appreciation Week 2021 ついに今週からはじまりまして とってもそわそわしています

[zenyattaappreciationweek]

Hello everyone!

it’s been a couple years since our last Zenyatta Appreciation Week, but with everything that’s going on now, I thought we could all deserve some chill time and coming together as a fandom. :)

So, I hereby declare the Zenyatta Appreciation Week’s rebirth for the year 2021!

Please consider spreading this post and sharing or linking it (am considering making a separate twitter account as well, if so i will also link it on this blog for those who prefer using a different platform)

The Zenyatta Appreciation Week 2021 is currently set to be either the second or third week of MAY 2021 (17-23 or 24-30) so if you have a preference, send an ask and it will be tallied to see which it’ll be. Final decision will be posted with the prompts by next week.

RULES

both safe for work and non is alllowed, as long as the latter is tagged. Considering the situation here on tumblr, it’d be better if not safe for work entries are kept under a cut also, or posts hosted ouside of tumblr and linked here with a sfw preview (from twitter, image hosting sites, deviantart, pillowfort, instagram, etcetera)

both shipping and gen stuff is allowed! please feel free to indulge as long as ZENYATTA is the actual focus! That’s important!rarepairs are welcome! give the bot some love and use this chance to make him feel all the love!

any content is also allowed -fanart, fanfics, sfm, playlists, crafts, meta, etc! as long as it’s Zenyatta-centric! You’re welcome to do anything that you can, and the best thing you can do is enjoy, reblog and leave comments to other people’s creations to let them know you love it :) and spread the word also!

you can either submit to this blog when the time comes, or make your own post and then tag it #zenweek2021 or #zenyattaweek2021 in the first 5 tags, which i will track, so i can see everything and reblog it properly :) otherwise try to tag by ship if it applies, and possible triggers or sensitive content.

feel free to shoot me an ask here for anything you wish to know!

feel free to reblog and comment also entries from 2018 I’m sure all the creators would be happy to get some attention to their old works!

Soon I will make an additional post with the prompts, so that you will have an entire month to get some creative juices going :> if you have some ideas over the prompts, feel free to send ‘em over here through ask or submission. Each day will have multiple prompts in order to give people more options, and there will be a [wild card] day where you can just go batshit over whatever you want.