@hclixfire-a-blog / hclixfire-a-blog.tumblr.com
|| reminder that if i see u interacting at all w a blog that changes tracer, a canon lesbian, into a trans man (which is extremely harmful to both lesbians and trans men), that i will immediately softblock and unfollow u
|| honestly might start doing the same for if i see ppl interacting w blogs that change her sexuality at all. there’s no excuse for supporting the erasure of representation
|| like if u read
I don’t know how to colour
Lovely Grandma
❥ NON - SEXUAL ACTS OF DOMINANCE .
feel free to edit or elaborate as you please . ( add ‘ reverse ‘ to your message if you’d like to see how my muse would perform the action ) . otherwise , send in one of these for my muse’s reaction to …
some are considered to be triggering and/or offensive with heavy mentions of death and threatening lives.
some doodles of everyones fav support sniper
first prize of my art giveaway for @deadcyed of these soft soft nerds
do NOT tag as a ship pls and thank
first prize of my art giveaway for @deadcyed of these soft soft nerds
do NOT tag as a ship pls and thank
mclove of my mcfuckin life
S A T Y A
BEING SATYA, she doesn’t take much note of the pink in Fareeha’s dark cheeks. Instead, there’s a feeling of warm pride, that she was finally able to connect, relate, be amicable with someone in this organization.
❝ I know the feeling. Over time I have come to realize politicians do little but squabble over nothing while their people suffer. ❞ Her smile turns wry. ❝ I imagine Helix faces worse, however, being a military organization. It is a wonder you were even able to join Overwatch, Ms. Amari. ❞
Fareeha gives a soft chuckle, raising a brow, “I imagine you must have faced quite a few useless politicians talking out of their asses. They always do seem to be the ones in charge, yes?” Satya’s wry smile makes Fareeha’s own pull wider, her eyes bright with mirth, “You’d think the military would have to deal with less politics, but we always seemed to drowning in it. Thankfully I never really had to get involved. I think my superiors knew better than to put me alone with a politician.” A low laugh rises from her, her smile playful.
Her brows shoot up at Satya’s comment, honestly somewhat surprised, though it takes only a second to realize what the woman said really does make sense. Still, she smiles softly, giving a light shrug, “Perhaps. At least Overwatch is far more separate from politics than it was before. Though I’m not sure that ever would have stopped me. After all, joining has always been my dream.”
She leans forward, expression warm, curious, “But what about you, Satya? What brought you to Overwatch?”
T H E W I D O W
Amélie had only seen a few people from her past that she remembered, but even then their visits were few and far between. If they came to see her, it was usually an encounter filled with caution rather than happiness like she… silently wished for. She had fully expected animosity in the form of betrayal and anger, but part of her had wished that someone saw her differently.
As soon as she heard footsteps coming down the hallway, her attention would turn, only for her to spot Fareeha Amari standing there, staring back at her. Golden eyes would widen as she stared back at her, panic and uncertainty rising inside of her as her fingers would tighten the hold upon her own hands. A slight tremble would shake her person as her bottom lip was bitten into nervously.
Memories of the past came rushing forth; The sight of her bullet hitting its mark in Ana Amari’s eye, followed by the stories that Ana had been killed in combat and the joy that her death seemed to bring her at the time. She remembered feeling anger when Ana suddenly resurfaced, alive, but now that Widowmaker was no longer around, Amélie felt nothing but regret.
Even now, standing before the daughter of someone she had considered as a second mother to her, Amélie was terrified of what might happen between them.
“F-Fareeha…” Her tone was quiet and distant, but she was very visibly distressed by having the other in her presence. She isn’t even sure what to say as she stands there like a statue, frozen like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car…
…and she wasn’t ready.
Fareeha sees the way the woman before her trembles, watches those unnatural golden eyes widen as though she’s afraid, and the near innocence of the widow’s reaction is enough to make fury rise in her heart. Her own hands shake where they’re balled into fists at her sides, her dark eyes blazing.
Memories surface, flitting across her mind with such clarity that it’s almost dizzying. She recalls the moment the knock on her door came, can see Jack’s face in her mind and the expression he wore at the exact moment he told her that her mother was dead. She remembers finding out who did it, realizing the woman her mother had treated almost as her own had betrayed them. Not only had Amélie turned against justice, against everything good, she’d turned against her family.
And, to Fareeha, that was unforgivable.
Her voice was low and heavy when she spoke, eyes narrowed as she met that strange yellow gaze, “Widowmaker.” There’s an almost overwhelming urge to rush forward, to slam the assassin into the wall, to pin her there and demand answers or an apology. Or maybe to exact revenge.
But she holds herself back, expression stony, voice cold, “Are they really letting you wander without supervision? That seems foolish.”
“We can’t keep doing this. If we got caught, it would end us both.”
“Indulge me, just this once?”
“I hate you, and I hate that I love you.”
“Calm down, no one followed me. We’re safe out here.”
“No one can find out about this, do you understand? I will kill you.”
“Who thought the perfect hero would fall for someone like me?”
“Maybe out there, you’re the one in control. In here, though, it’s me.”
“You just make me so fucking mad, I want to slam you against the wall and break you!”
“You know, I never thought that smirk would turn me on. This might be dangerous.”
“How long do you think we can keep this up?”
“No, I can’t do this anymore…this went too far.”
“I was never meant to love. I’m not made for softness.”
“Please…please, let me help you. Let me do something!”
“You’re supposed to be the good one, aren’t you? Then why can’t you stay away?”
