#oncelegend

terrified yet aroused

     it’s finally her turn to be surprised. she had been so ready to get another one of his awfully cute reactions to enjoy, and she saw it working across his face, the blush rising high on his cheeks. another small victory over her dear commander to thread into her thoughts and put a particular pep in her step, but then that smirk comes and she’s the one left speechless. heat warms her face while her brow furrows in turn, her only tells as she meets his gaze evenly and tries her hand at keeping up with this newfound tempo. so she steps into his space with that clever grin of hers.

He blinks a few times before glancing down at the wrapped package, frowning slightly. He can’t give this to anyone else, he hand made it just for the other! He frowns and glares at him, before tossing it at him and grumbles hobbling off. If, the man were to open it. It would be a simple sweater, gentle blue with his visor red and a pattern of white stitched into it being 76.

Jerk, who does he think he is. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to ruin peoples Christmas by gifting bombs!

He walked off, slamming the door to his workshop.

At one point Hanzo considered selling himself. However, his pride would never let him stoop so low. If there was one thing he had left, it was that.

It wasn’t until he made a stop in a rough city that he heard about the underground fights. Men, and the occasional women, would step into a circle and beat each other into the ground. People took bets on who would win, excitedly screaming around the fighters. He had intended to try and make money through gambling, but the risk was too high. There was very little control in the outcome and he could potential make himself worse off.

So he has to fight, then.

Finally, after managing to squeeze the location of the fights out of someone, he stood watching two men go at it. So sloppy, lacking proper form. He feels no shame, placing a large bet on himself. If this was anything to go by, this would be too easy.

When it’s his turn to enter the makeshift ring, he removes his jacket but keeps his long sleeve shirt on to keep his tattoo hidden. He pulls his hair up and cracks his fingers, waiting for his opponent. A man steps in, white hair and scars on his face. By his build, military. Likely to have some sort of training, but not like Hanzo. He narrows his ever watchful gaze, moving into stance and waiting for the match to start.

It is known, both by wise men and the laws of the universe, that ruined things shall attract ruined things. 

She sits upon the precipice of the necropolis. One, two, three bottles of tequila lie empty by her side, the fourth half empty at her lips. How long had she been here? Long enough for the sky to fade from a dull blue to blood red and pitch black. Reaper black. No stars, just the city in the distance. Cold, empty, and silent. Just what she needed.

Jack wasn’t her last choice. Sure, he was her only choice now, but she respected him too much to consider going to him a last resort. He vouched for her, he didn’t seem incredibly upset she’d gone to them, especially when she explained the situation. The betrayal. What Amari thought of her remained to be seen, she seemed more upset by Reaper’s fall from grace. Or maybe they just thought she was useful. After all, she came with every file on Talon they could ever ask for. She could still hack. She could still do some digging for them. She could be useful.

Sombra needs to be useful. It’s all she ever is. Not a friend, not family, not a person. Just useful. She takes another burning swing of alcohol as footsteps approach.

i…. like them……..