#weighingsouls

[honorpmoved]

QUIETLY, GENTLY TAKES HIS HAND & BRUSHES HER FINGERS ACROSS THE SCAR RUNNING DOWN HIS FACE.

@weighingsouls

   THERE’S A QUESTION ON his lips, parted in a moment’s hesitation. Not a sound leaves them as he watches. Inquiry is replaced by speculation, the way her eyes peer up at his face with intent. Fingertips close around hers, the roughened callouses of scarred pads tracing over the softness of a gentle hand. Her hand rises up, until it’s out of his view.

   He can feel it, faintly. The way she traces over it. Nerves have long since been heavily damaged, a scar deeper than many of those littering his body. Wide. Thick skin like leather, discolored by age and a wound long since healed over. Patched together some time ago, an event which even he struggles to remember. He knows it was messy. He knows the gore that was present, he remembers fractured moments of the frenzy that had overtaken him. The shock. And panic. He knows the wound left only enough remnants, in terms of muscle and bone, to allow him the slate of a cold glass eye, one he’s conservative to tell of ( for nothing more than it’s an unnecessary detail ).

   That was his scar. The lot of it. The memory and physicality. A tragedy. A story he needn’t tell; one that didn’t flow with excitement in a looming tone, and didn’t have so happy of an ending ———— because it brought back a sense of dread. Remember when he almost lost everything ? Remember how that felt ? And within every storm there came an eye ( hah. ), and within that came a silver lining. Somewhere. The start of Overwatch. A new phase in his life.

   But that didn’t make for an interesting story, did it ? Trying to remember anything aside from waking up in a hospital room and being told he would see his mother again. Being told he was a lucky man to be taken out of this war when that’s not what he wanted. Scrounging through pieces to try and make something that would catch the interest that the view itself did.

   So he always made it up, time and time again. Even to Ana; but there was an understanding in that instance. He told her and she smiled right through him. She never asked, nor did she ever mention she didn’t believe him. He had kept the tale brief. She didn’t believe him, but he didn’t believe himself. It was easy with many, creating a whimsical tale from other events in his life ———— or carrying it into layers of fantasy for the comedy. Not with her, however. She would smile and amuse him, but she knew. 

   He never knew if it bothered him or not; he realizes, now, it doesn’t matter. As her delicate touch closes his parted lips, pulls a sigh through his nose. His lips curl into a soft grin ------------ she never cared about the tale. She only sympathized, even through the facade.

   In response, his grasp closes around the gentle hand which rest on his; with a slight lean, he presses a kiss to her knuckles.

[honorpmoved]

can you please rant about rein finding out jack & ana aren't dead. thx.

@weighingsouls @warpledged here u go my ass to you both on a silver platter.

god the thing that crushes me the most about them is that rein forgives them. so immediately and easily because he experiences all at once that overwhelming sensation of so many years gone by. of like… 5, more than that because ana was taken out before the explosion ( correct me if im wrong, but i think it’s generally accepted that was so??? how long before who knows ) and just. mourning them both. mourning his greatest friends and the people he lived with for longer than his own family. it could never be expressed, the normalcy of having them in his life. overwatch was like oxygen to him. it was so natural and there, and even in retirement, which he fought against tooth and nail, he was still there. they were still with him, still his friends and he often came to visit them. and of course, it is, without him being there that they’re gone. for starters, naturally he blames himself. for any ounce of a difference he could have made. his presence, at the very least, would have felt like more of an impact.

and the years and years he spent just working out of muscle memory. roaming and traveling and saving the world bc it made him feel alive again. it gave him purpose, again, to be defending people. living by his old morals when there was nothing anymore. when all that order and structure got torn down in the explosion and all his friends were gone. just,, making himself a new story. cuz that’s what he can do, right???

and then in the after. where he meets them and it’s just so painfully casual. like, how else can it be done? it’s just surprise, im alive. and of course his immediate reaction is to hold them and forgive them and express his disbelief. but i feel like that need to know, that true what the hell happened isn’t so immediate. i feel like he knows himself that comes with time. he can’t ask right there in the middle of the base why ana never told him. or any of that shit.

and that’s the mutual understanding, too. he knows when jack and ana are comfortable they’ll tell him every detail. they’ll sit him down when they collect their thoughts and feel comfortable enough to. the trust is there, but time has changed a lot. their surroundings. new friends. there’s so much, and one thing needs to be taken at a time. a deep breath. but it takes every ounce of his being not to explode between that time. he never would. he could never bring himself to get mad unless they literally made an effort to omit something he wants to know, which i doubt they ever would. they owe him that. cuz after all this time, he still loves them and trusts them with his life. he’s changed so much, but his moral and ethical code hasn’t changed at all.

but you can bet you buck there’s tears when it all comes through. if not tears, help back emotion and just. it’s a lot. if the tears aren’t immediate they’ll come later. it all really depends on how the unveiling happens. i think he’d cry with ana. i think he’d hug her close and just softly cry for a little after hearing it, and thank her for telling him. and telling her they’re gonna make sure it’s not happening again. not on his watch and all that :^) but inside he’s fuckin dyin scoob.

[honorpmoved]

AND OVERDADS pls

Send me a ship and i’ll rate it.

nope / not exactly / it’s okay / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell

GOD I THINK EVERYONE AND THEIR FUCKIN MOTHER KNOWS I SHIP OVERDADS BUT I DON’T GIVE A GOSH DANG HERE WE FUCKIN GO. ima start from the beginning: cuz i fucking die for these losers being best friends from the get go. getting along so well even from the start, before jack’s commander, laughing and grinning cuz they’re optimists who can be little stinkers together every now and again. playing pranks back and forth and joking and just laughing and having fun. going out for drinks bc even if jack can’t really get drunk rein just makes it a real fun atmosphere to be with friends and watch games together and make bets on who’s gonna win and etc. competitive fun and support between two great people and the ability to be there to support each other when one is down like CMON MAN jack’s such a guten support for the team especially but rein is like. that golden fallback. the person who can catch even jack when he’s down, and to boot, jack can turn around and do the same for someone like rein who sorta has a tendency to hide that shit. be on that wavelength of just a LOOK portraying emotion to one another cuz they’re just. best fuckin friends man. and what ship isn’t beautiful when they’re both super in love and also best friends like??? going from laughing their asses off at 3am over stupid shit to laughing their asses off in bed together at 3am over stupid shit.

and to boot, for 76 and shit in all that downfall, it’s sorta the last thread of trust. when everyone betrays jack and there’s nothing left, there’s some semblance of something in all the ashes. it’s a broken and shattered jackie and rein to help put him back together and give him at least a scrap of something to turn to. cuz rein has been on his side from the get go, whether shipping before the fall or not. rein was beside jack. he supported him, esp when ana was gone. there’s so much history to just push them together after it’s all said and done and so much room for that angst of repair. of jack to either lash out at something like that to try and reject it before he slowly falls into acceptance or just for that immediate acceptance, for someone for jack to finally just let go of that survival and fall to his knees and have someone who can actually pick him back up after years and years of being alone.

so yeah like it’s an alright ship

[honorpmoved]

anahardt i mean you know

Send me a ship and i’ll rate it.

nope / not exactly / it’s okay / cute / adorable / sexy ( young them are like the sexiest motherfuckers ) / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn / screaming and crying / i will ship them in hell

LIKE FUCK MAN I WOULD LOVE TO DELVE MORE INTO THIS SHIP LIKE. fuckin i die tbh just these two. stubborn babies in their own separate stubborn ways. rein’s a big ol sweet romantic and ana would adore it. being so fun and flirty and always smiling. tHE GOLDEN BANTER. rein’s the optimistic sort and ana’s just that no bullshit sort and they’re both sweetiepies. give good advice and can be depended on in different ways. makin the team a better place they’re the og ma and pa of the team and later the granpapper and grandma. let them be sweeties who stick to one another like glue and just have an awesome time. their dynamic is precious and just IT’S SO GOOD in game they work so well together to boot like how can you deny.

[mirrorbled-a-blog]

          ❛     ALLOW  ME  TO  tell you a little fact.  see this device on my wrist  ?  it works like a lie detector.  it scans your heart beat to tell if you’re lying.  i mean ,  i don’t like to be too reliant on technology myself  &  i’ll confess it can sometimes be wrong.   but  ...  let’s just say  ...  i don’t need it to detect your BULLSHIT story.  jesus christ.  did you really think i’d believe that  ?  i’m  ...  i’m actually genuinely offended.  give me some credit ,  lady.   ❜  

@weighingsouls

[paraselen-blog]

'it is undeniable that overwatch did the world good at the beginning; do you regret your part in that? would you rather have never joined, to spare yourself everything that came later?'

ASKING   THE  HARD  QUESTIONS  /  always  accepting.@weighingsouls

DEAR  SOLDIER,  strain  your  eyes.

quiet  breath  stayed  within  his  lungs  as  he  looked  away,  death  turning  its  gaze  to  spare  her.  she  could  not  see  his  features.  the  mask  wasn’t  new.  it  had  always  been  //  who  are  you,  jack  morrison  ?

what  was  it  that  reyes  had  said  ?  overwatch  was  for  glory  &  blackwatch  was  for  redemption.  he,  the  once  -  kissed,  the  once  tended  to,  the  once  loved  &  once  adored  could  have  never  understood  that.  he  had  been  cold,  then  warm  &  now  he  was  dead.  he  had  both  feet  in  the  grave  &  teeth  carved  from  the  bones  of  the  old  soldiers  that  never  made  it  home.

how  many  did  he  save  compared  to  the  ones  that  he  had  drowned  in  his  guilt  ?  what  good  did  he  do  if  he  didn’t  do  anything  at  all  ?  thought  :  it’s  pointless,  it’s  too  soon  to  debate  politics.

          ❛   i  never  wanted  anything  to  do  with  it.  i  never  wanted  fight  at  all  :  i  just  wanted  to  go  home.   ❜

he  had  tried.  he  had  tried  until  his  eyes  bled  &  someone  had  to  force  him  to  walk  away  with  strange,  heavy  steps  that  had  never  fallen  so  leaden  himself.  he  had  wanted  to  go.  to  do  everything.  he  was  the  martyr  of  the  people,  the  sacrificial  lamb  upon  which  the  pyramids  collapsed  on  his  knees  &  broken  his  teeth.  he  was  without  cause.  without  soul.  without  value  &  now  turned  lost  mercenary  without  a  revelation.

asked  :  did  icarus  regret  the  fall  ?

he  answered  :  he  was  never  icarus  at  all.

[paraselen-blog]

15. FIXING HIS COLLAR ! // can i send another one i don't care i'm sending another one

PLATONIC  TOUCH  /  always  accepting  tbh.@weighingsouls

JACK’S  EYES  sloped  into  an  exhausted  haze.  there  was  still  blood  on  on  her  fingers.  he  could  see  it.  could  see  the  small  glimmer  of  red  underneath  her  long  fingernails  which  were  painted  over  to  hide  the  worst  of  the  marks.  she  had  groomed  her  hair  &  though  it  was  still  too  coarse  &  threatening  to  fall  out  of  its  braid,  she  seemed  more  put  together  than  all  of  them  combined.  it  was  as  if  she  had  returned  to  being  marble  again.  to  being  this  perfect  statue  with  veins  of  scarlet  ichor  reaching  across  the  surface.  she  seemed  so  smooth  &  polished,  even  with  eyes  carrying  the  same  smudges  underneath  them  concealed  with  a  heavy  application  of  make  -  up.  

her  eyes  were  what  captured  him.  in  how  they  shifted  &  skittered  across  his  form,  tracking  every  little  bit  of  inconsistency  within  him.  as  if  trying  to  disable  any  sign  of  the  bruised  ribs  wrapped  up  tightly  underneath  his  suit  &  the  stitched  gash  that  could  rip  open  if  he  wasn’t  careful.  she  tutted,  bringing  his  thoughts  back  to  her.  (  *  he  was  tired  //  he  was  swaying  where  he  was  standing  ) she  was  the  only  thing  that  kept  him  aware  enough  to  realize  that  he  needed  to  be  still  as  she  fixed  the  folds  of  his  collar.  her  lips  thinned,  eyes  narrowing  &  jack  watch  it  all  unfold  across  her  features.

it  was  a  singular  moment.  intimate.  close.  he  was  too  tired  to  speak  beyond  the  heavy  breathing  that  he  tried  to  stifle  &  quiet  as  she  worked  with  twists  of  efficiency  that  echoed  the  pull  of  a  trigger.  if  the  night  wasn’t  so  serene  &  swathed  with  a  faint  musical  harmony  that  filtered  in  from  the  main  room,  he  might  have  thought  himself  dead.  ana  was  lethal,  wasn’t  she  ?  there  was  a  candid  appreciation  in  all  of  them  of  how  easily  they  could  kill  people  without  even  a  gun  at  their  side.  it  was  in  the  way  she  watched  people,  as  if  she  was  higher  above  them  all,  eyes  elevated  to  glimpse  down  below.  if  this  was  day,  maybe  he  might  have  gone  blind,  but  things  were  quieter  in  the  night.  thought  :  how  frightening.

she  smiled  at  him  &  he  smiled  back,  fingers  coming  to  rest  on  the  perfect  crease  of  his  collar.  how  easily  she  had  wrestled  his  battle  -  worn  appearance  into  something  less  conspicuous.  she  had  dimmed  the  fires  &  washed  away  the  blood.  faintly,  jack  wondered  what  else  she  could  conceal.  if  she  could  hide  them  all  from  the  world  that  wanted  to  gawk  at  them  &  take  their  souls  for  their  own  selfish  purposes.

he  supposed  a  smile  was  enough.

        ❛   thank  -  you,   ❜  he  whispered  &  the  daze  gave  way  to  clarity.  he  turned  to  face  the  world  again,  as  if  ready  to  be  a  soldier  that  had  fought  in  all  their  wars  without  any  of  the  sign  that  he  did.

fifteen.  fixing  shirt  collar

[paraselen-blog]

THE  AIR  was  thick  with  a  drizzle  of  lazy  fog  that  curled  around  them  both.  the  morning  sun  was  still  deep  below  the  horizon,  the  city  still  asleep.  he  pushed  on.  it’s  been  days.  the  pace  was  relentless.  even  he  was  beginning  to  feel  the  strain  &  push  on  his  muscles.  he  paused.  head  lifting  up  towards  her.

       ❛   we  rest  here.   ❜   he  asked,  ending  on  a  low  growl.

@weighingsouls  /  liked.