Hey! My name’s Axe, as some of you probably know, and I’m the mun of this blog. Sometime last year my activity here starting slowing down, and in November I disappeared altogether for two reasons: 1) mental health stuff, probably, that I’m not getting into, and 2) I’ve started RPing more on discord. I find it easier.

Also, my muses have changed quite a bit. I don’t write Moira, like ever, nor do I write Lucio. Instead my main muses are Mauga, Baptiste, Gerard Lacroix (for some reason), Torbjorn, Reinhardt (rarely), and that Null Sector omnic from the Uprising cutscene. I don’t get the chance to write Reaper much anymore, but I’d still like to.

So um. This blog. My muses have changed so much I’ll have to revamp it, quite a bit actually, if I do end up coming back at all. If I do, I’ll probably drop all my old threads and start fresh, since it’s been a million years since I’ve replied to anything.

So let’s just say... I’m on hiatus? Idk when I’ll actually get around to doing something here so like... I don’t wanna keep you guys waiting. If I start renovations, I’ll write another update.

The words came through Ray’s earpiece soon after, and panic filled him. Quickly wrestling with the enemy he was struggling with, Ray hastily took them out before looking around and spotting Reaper on the ground. Rushing across the slowly-settling battleground and over to the wraith, he knelt down beside him and looked over the wound.

“Let me see...” He spoke, trying to side calm but occasional bits of panic slipping through. “Okay...Okay, hang on.” He reached out, helping the older man hold the bleeding wound while his other reached for his communicator.

“Dr. Ziegler! We need you over here now! Agent Reaper’s been hit! It’s not fatal, but he’s going to need to be patched up! I just sent our location your way!”

Once that was over, Ray settled next to Reaper, still holding his wound. “She’s on her way. I’ll stay here with you until she gets here. Don’t move too much, okay?”

He had closed his eyes, trying to ignore the searing pain that was currently in his side. Reaper didn’t even realize that his mask had been knocked aside, leaving his face completely visible. He looked slightly more monster-like than usual; maybe it was because of how little energy he had at the moment.

As Ray approached, the wraith opened his eyes only slightly, watching the other panic at his injured form. He started to laugh weakly at the sight, though quickly stopped since it sent another wave of pain through him. It was pretty funny, actually, to think that Ray was worried. The injury wasn’t that bad, no matter how much it hurt. Reaper would be fine. Unfortunately.

what if i.

Vampire Sombra @twosidesonestory

Sombra had been staying with Baptiste for awhile. She had been laying low and staying off the grid because she didn't want to wind up being discovered by anyone. It could be common knowledge that she was what she was. The masses would riot and she'd have to conceal her identity again. She knew Baptiste was good at staying off the grid, so it kinda suited things for her to be staying with him.

However, there was a downside. Staying off the grid usually meant that Sombra couldn't find a suitable meal meaning that she was tired and slow most of the time, it also meant that her injuries wouldn't heal properly. The only thing that kept her away from death was animal blood that she had found in the forest. She was good at hiding it too.

That's why Sombra was where she was now, leaned against a wall with part of her side blown in. The person that was there had already left the scene, leaving her there deeming that she'd die on her own, bleed out without a worry. They were partially right. She was breathing heavily, the wound simply not closing like it should have.

“Sombra...?” Baptiste called out quietly, hoping she had hearing enhanced enough to hear him. Having a vampire for a girlfriend had its ups and downs for sure, but the medic wouldn’t have it any other way. Keeping her hidden was a bit of a challenge, but thankfully Baptiste had experience with laying low. When she suddenly left for a night and didn’t come back as soon as she normally did, he was worried, though assumed she was feeding. But his fears eventually got the better of him, and he went out to find her. And he did. Though she had certainly looked better.

“Somb-- oh no...” In an instant, he was by her side, eyes frantically looking over her for any other injuries apart from the obvious wound in her side. “Who did this...? Why...? Merde...” The medic unclenched his fists, unsure when he clenched them in the first place. Anger at whoever the culprit was could come later, but first Baptiste needed to make sure Sombra didn’t die in his arms. 

The wound itself was not something Baptiste was unfamiliar with, so he could probably take care of it just fine-- but there were 2 main obstacles in his way. The first was that he had to get Sombra home first, and he wasn’t sure moving her was the best idea right now. Calling someone to pick them up was absolutely out of the question. The second, possibly more important issue was that Sombra was a vampire. She healed faster than most humans, when she was fed. Baptiste wasn’t exactly a blood bank, so he didn’t think she drank as much human blood as she needed to to heal as fast as she could. If only he could get her some...

If... only...

@twosidesonestory wanted a werewolf!McCree starter! (For your Baptiste in ya fantasy verse ^-^)

On his way to fulfill his quest, McCree decided to take a small break in the nearby village for the time being. It was almost nighttime, and worse of all, full  moon, so he needed to take a good care of himself before going wild. Visually, it seemed to be a pleasing place, but a strong scent caught the cowboy’s attention. Male… Canine… Nearby… That was all that he caught for now, until he started to chase the scent.

As it got stronger and stronger, McCree eventually catches the glance of the one who had that strong canine scent. A  Lumberjack? McCree questions himself, before approaching the guy.

“Howdy there!” The cowboy’s cheerful attitude echoed on his features, as a bright smile cover the suspicion behind the other’s form. “Noticed you were packing your things, so I’m assuming you live around here? I’m a traveler and don’t know much about the place. Maybe you know where is a taverns where I could stay the night?”

Baptiste would have to get home soon. He could feel that the full moon would be rising soon, which, of course, was never a good sign. Unlike a lot of other werewolves, Baptiste was never able to control his more feral form, no matter how much he tried. He was dangerous to both himself and others, which was why he needed to leave right now.

He was in the middle of packing his things and going home when someone approached him. Normally, he would’ve insisted that he needed to leave, but something about this person seemed... different. Canine. Smells canine.

...Like me?

Mauga gasped, dramatically placing a hand over his heart in a show of offense. "Excuse me, sir, you can never have too much pumpkin spice. You just have no taste."