Pandabatman9

sure! i want to write moira so thank u for giving me this chancesorry this is short.

Widowmaker

Widowmaker jumps when you pick her up. She’s not enjoying this at all, shut up. Put me down, now. She glares at you when you won’t comply. She might even struggle a little bit while you carry her. Struggling makes things harder, doesn’t it. She stops struggling, deciding that you carrying her out of danger is better than the both of you dying. She’ll still pout.

She crosses her arms. She hates the very idea that she’s not doing anything helpful to you. She’s a little annoyed, especially because she should be the one trying to protect you, not the other way around. She should keep a closer eye on you for next time. You can’t pick her up if she’s already got you in her arms, right? She certainly thinks so.

She finds it slightly more dignified than you carrying her over your shoulder. She still feels like she’d rather carry you than the other way around. Yes, you’re a rescue team member, but she’s a trained agent. She doesn’t need saving. The way you cuddle her close to your chest, though… She could get used to this. She only starts liking it when you’re putting her down. She walks away quickly. …Be more careful next time.

Sombra

Sombra is surprised when you suddenly pick her up. She finds herself pretty amused at first, gently putting her arms around your neck. Aw, babe! You’re looking out for me. She chuckles. Careful with me, alright? Her grip on you is tighter than you expect. She trusts you, but she’s worried that she’s weighing you down. …You can drop me, if you want.

She’s not very used to being treated like a princess. Even just being carried like one is a surprise to her. She’s had a rough life, after all, but somehow, she finds you comforting to her. She’s close to your chest, her arms resting on you. She knows that this might not ever happen again. She’ll enjoy this while she can. She cuddles you a little, a grin on her lips.

It’s not like she usually asks Talon members for physical affection, so she feels pleasantly surprised as you hold her close. It’s a nice change of pace, even though both of you are running from a dangerous situation. Still, she’ll take what she can get when she can get it. She teases you a little if you ask her about the way she cuddles into your chest. It’s nice here. You put her down. She grins. Let’s do that again sometime!

Moira

Moira is surprised when you pick her up. Why are you picking me up…?! I’m fine on my own! She’s definitely flustered, probably struggling in your arms for a little while before accepting that you’re going to be carrying her away. She takes a deep breath, sighing. She glares at anyone and everyone you two pass by, daring them to say something about it.

She refuses to glance at you. She doesn’t want to know what you’re thinking, nor does she want to distract you. Being carried is quite embarrassing, especially because she’s quite tall, and she’d rather not call further attention to herself. She’ll just let you carry her for now. She takes note of any injuries you get, and heals you while you carry her.

gee whiz i love to be SAD. also finally caught up and did three requests for today. nice.

Widowmaker is hospitalized and rooms with reader who becomes her friend that dies and leaves Widow a letter

Widowmaker is quiet when she is in the hospital for the first time. She isn’t going to get visitors. She stares out the window when she can, wishing she were anywhere else. In the beginning, she tries to tune you out, but she eventually makes little snarky remarks here and there. She’s going to be here for a little while, after all. She might as well secure some form of entertainment. Soon enough, though, she realizes that you’re something different. Not so much a pest, but someone she looks forward to seeing.

She soon finds herself amused by you and your attitude. You’re more cheerful than her, definitely, and she finds the contrast something she has to get used to. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, in the end. She finds herself even smiling, some days. One night, she decides that you are the only good thing that this hospital has given her. She makes a promise to herself to be a little kinder to you. The next day, she calls you her friend. I will only say this once. …You’ve been a good friend to me. Your reaction is definitely worth the initial discomfort she has.

She finds herself fond of you, and secretly grows excited for the day that you two are released from the hospital and can spend more time with each other. She’s going to be released soon, and has already promised to visit you often. It’s rare for her to actually feel okay about something. She could get used to this friendship. …Maybe she already has. She smiles to herself. She’ll tell you how much you mean to her one day. But not yet.

She wakes up, glancing at the nearest clock. It’s like two in the morning, and she hears talking. She glances over to you, but she can’t see you. There are doctors and nurses around you. She blinks, soon immediately feeling that something is wrong. One doctor speaks. It’s a shame. She was doing so well… We can’t always predict that these sorts of things will happen, and I… He excuses himself, clearly upset. She finds it harder to breathe. You can’t be…? Another doctor speaks. We have to get ‘em out of here. They pick up your body. She grips the blanket hard, eyes wide. She’s frozen as they take you away. She sits up and stares down at the blanket. You’re gone.

She notices something on the ground. A piece of paper. She picks it up and reads it. She feels her heart ache. You must have known. You must have known it would end this way, otherwise you wouldn’t have written that letter, right? Or… She feels empty. Did you write this in hopes that one day you would give it to her? She has so many things she wants to say, but no one to listen. She tucks the letter away, treasuring it.

tracer: i’m…you…hhh…big

But mortal hands build clever tools, and these last few hundred years I have lived in dread that they will break this, my sacred stone, the last link that preserves me, a faint shadow of a forgotten god. While my sacred stone stands, I do not, quite, fade away.

I am in a park, now, clipped and tamed, my forests long gone. But they landscape around me and my stone, admiring its beauty, so I do not complain. While they take pleasure in the stone, I am safe.

There is a playground a few lengths away, and the laughter and happy shrieking rouse me a little from my sleep. I watched over children, once. It’s nice to hear them again.

But I don’t truly awaken until the Offering is made.

Little hands touch my stone, with curiosity and a sort of reverence that only the very young feel now. For a child young enough the world is still a mystery, and even an ancient granite stone provokes wonder. So I stir, when she touches the stone, becoming hazily aware.

And then, solemnly, the child places a tiny colourful object in the roughly shaped alcove in the stone’s side, the place where offerings were laid two thousand years ago and more, and I awaken. Many people have put things in that alcove, of course… to take pictures, usually, these days, or putting a lost object where it will be seen. Merely to place an object in the alcove isn’t enough. A true offering is given as a gift, with intent.

As this is.

Thank you so much, luckily writing is a good way to get across my emotions <3!!

‘‘Am I going to die?’‘ Choked back, distressed words and a nervous laughter as young eyes meet theirs. ‘‘Oh my god I am going to die.’‘ They are so cold, aren’t they? The Inquisitor looks up at them ‘‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t fix everything. Please don’t cry’‘

Cassandra: She holds them, shaking words of encouragement to not close their eyes, to stay with her. ‘’You are not dying, you hear me?’’ She didn’t even notice she was crying, she was actually surprised to hear them say that. Cassandra knows thought, that they are dying. No healing magic could heal this wound, it’s too deep and too far gone. All she can do is hold the Inquisitor’s body as they bleed out, humming a soft tune from when she was a child; making sure they know, they were amazing. They did everything right and they shouldn’t say sorry. They didn’t die alone, they died in the arms of a friend. 

Solas: He gives them a pained expression, because he knows that if he hadn’t planned such a brutal plan, a young life would have been saved, if only for a bit longer. He can’t heal this- Solas knows that. But he tries, desperately for some time before he gives up. Whispering about how great they did, how hard they worked despite everything. ‘’You did great, Inquisitor. You did amazingly.’’ As the Inquisitor gives him one last, tired smile he feels himself freeze. Falon’Din enasal enaste.

Dorian: He curses at first, telling them to stop speaking such nonsense. But he realizes shortly after them that; they are right. They are dying. Nothing can stop this and it hurts him. He tries to hold the tears as he holds the young Inquisitor, shaking his dead. ‘’You did great, you hear me?’’ He whispers this as he starts shaking, their body goes limp in his hands and he feels the tears falling. This war has taken too many people from him.

Sera: ‘’Yer not dying, ya hear me?’’ She hisses when she presses her hand to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. She fucking knows they are dying, but she won’t accept that. Hell now. She will sit with them, telling them to wait for reinforcements. She knows they will come too late; she knows this too well. So when the Inquisitor mutters how tired they are, she keeps talking. About the pranks they will do as they get back to Skyhold and how priceless the looks on those nobs faces will be. Even as their body goes limp, does she keep talking. She starts crying without realizing. 

Blackwall: He takes it the best, he has seen young soldiers die in war way before their time. He holds the Inquisitor tightly, and talks with them. About their favorite foods and colors, what their favorite flower is and if they like sunny better than rainy. When they beg for him to forgive them he chuckles, regret in his face as he shakes his head. ‘’It’s you who should forgive me.’’ When they go limp, he just sits there. He won’t move, not yet. He needs some time, tears falling from his face as he bites his lips and starts shaking. Forgive him, forgive him for not saving them.

Iron Bull: Bull Holds their small frame in his hands, krem is there too. Krem is always there lately; and they all three just talk and joke. When the Inquisitor asks for forgiveness; Krem breaks. Damn Bull almost does so as well. The kid did so good, why won’t they realize that? When their body goes limp, Bull softly puts them down. And hugs Krem, the chargers mourn that night; because they lost a family member. They lost a charger to this fucked up world who does nothing but takes and takes. Bull will never forgive himself; for not checking their back when out on that patrol. It’ll haunt him forever.

Vivienne: This has to be the first time the Inquisitor sees her cry, the mage muttering about how things aren’t over yet and they can’t give up. She knows however, she saw this in Bastien. And for a split moment all she can do is cry, hugging the small fragile Inquisitor as they pass away. She will never forgive herself for this; they were just a child.

Varric: He can’t do much, he doesn’t know what to do. For the first time in forever he feels helpess. This young person who had their entire life ahead of them, is now dying in his arms. He lets out a shaky breath, is this how Hawke felt? Varric knows how it is to loose someone; but never someone you feel the need to protect. He never had to protect Bartrand in the way he did the Inquisitor. Is this how it felt for Hawke watching Carver/Bethany die? He asks this, as he tells the kid stories; watching the life leave their body.

careful what you wish for, dread wolf

me pointing at the bird: is that your manager 

cashier: … 

me: sorry, that was a bad joke 

cashier: Oh good I was about to say, because clearly THAT’S our manager