the truth is a weapon

Less Violence, More Humanity [A Meet-the-Mercs Headcanon]

I’m almost certain after seeing many of my posts on #TF2 or whatever other tags I use you’re probably thinking.

Hey, the guy who thinks up these headcanons is a violent monster who glorifies violence and makes violence  seem like the answer to everything, and he seems to have a pension for making the Mercs soulless killers.

To be frank with you, the Mercs actually aren’t heartless greedy sadistic killers. They’re sadistic killers but they’re not heartless and greedy.

In fact, if you haven’t seen Dr. Ludwig’s tidbits, then you probably wouldn’t know that he actually cares for The RED Mercs and that he has an actual personality besides “The Doctor that killed 23 Nazi officers.” He’s actually a caring individual who loves his team, he longs for his wife, he misses the days when he actually could be an doctor, he wants more doves, and he wants to travel to Tibet with The Spy because they’ve wanted to just retire and chill and go traveling, cause who doesn’t want to travel.

They’re all humans, they have their quirks, but they also have their dark-sides, but like I said in my “The Mercs’s Sing” Headcanon post, the guys like to drink and sing late at night after a day of murder and bloodshed to celebrate a job well done.

I won’t sugar coat it, their “job well done” would probably entail that they’ve tortured people, they’ve pulled out nails, they’ve beaten people to death, they actively remove people (even each other) out of existence just because they were annoyed by that person.

Frankly, they’re kinda just chill with other people, not really concerned with the lives of others, only the people they know and have some kind of relation to. But like, if you’re some BLU schmuck that wants to fight for BLU, well… You die.

But after all that, when they get home and go to their rooms most of them cry themselves to sleep at night because they miss their families, have regrets, or have dreams they probably can never really achieve because not only are they contracted to just plain murder people, they can’t even die to get themselves out of this. 

I’ve been trying to think of a time to actually post this, because I just wanted to throw it out there that through all the violence, the RED mercs are humans. Humans that kill for fun and for work, but humans none the less.

I wanted to point this out, and as a precursor to all the other Darker themed headcanon fics I’m going to post in the future.

Another character that kind of has a fucked up premise



is Wonder Woman.

Imagine you’re raised in this utopian, women only warrior society (this part isn’t fucked up) and you’re taught all about how outside of your society which is magically shielded by super-science/magic

there lies “man’s world.”

Man’s world is just horrible and fucked and violent place you hear stories about and the people who inhabit it and you reach a point growing up where you probably think “okay mom, it’s probably not that bad. Shit I bet men don’t even really exist you’re just fucking with me.”

And then a fucking man shows up on your island. He’s not at all like the ones that you’ve heard about. He’s not some violent monster who wants to ruin everything he touches. He’s a good dude. You decide you want to go see man’s world, you fight for the right to become your peoples champion and ambassador. It’s your job to share with man’s world the wonders of Amazonian society.

You get to man’s world and it’s fucking astounding. There are crazy tall buildings and cars and ice cream and all these different cultures and music and it’s just fucking mind blowing.

And there are lots of men. They’re walking down the street side by side with women. They aren’t murdering them, they aren’t reducing things to cinders. Obviously all the stories your mother told you were horse shit.

But then you start to pull back the curtain. You hear and see men disrespect women on the street. You go to the mall and wonder why all the mannequins are the same size if all the women clearly aren’t. You see all these magazines telling women what’s wrong with them, what they have to do to please men. That’s when you start wondering what’s up with this world.

You find out women are paid less then men, that no woman has ever been the leader of the United States, you see crime statistics, and you find out that this Steve Trevor, who you really thought was a good person, is an agent of a government that has declared the assaults on female soldiers “occupational hazards.”

Then you realize it’s not just the United States, it’s all over “man’s world.”

It hits you that this place is even worse than all the stories you heard.

And the worst part about it is: the gods that you’ve been raised to worship and fear, the gods that you know fucking exist, don’t want to do shit about it.

Imagine what that would do to you?

I wanna read about that Wonder Woman, the Year One Wonder Woman who’s like jesus in the temple flipping shit over. I wanna read about the Wonder Woman who’s so appalled by the conditions of man’s world she marches into the UN and tells everyone off. The Wonder Woman who meets a crying girl on a street corner, finds out that her boyfriend just laid hands on her and then goes and cuts off his hands.

Writers too often fall back on all that mythology shit as if Medusa and hydras and gorgons are the worst monsters that Diana can fight.

The monsters Wonder Woman should be fighting are the ones her mother told her about as a kid

#no wonder Hollywood is so afraid to make a WW movie #she would call out all their shit with her lasso of truth and truth is a sharper weapon than a sword (dealanexmachina)

Persona protagonists being cool in their final boss fights (Spoilers, obviously)

Minato (P3): Subdues Death itself by pointing at it.

Yu (P4): Throws off his glasses, showing he no longer needs them to see through Izanami’s fog of lies and summons Izanagi-no-Okami to blast her with weaponized truth.

Akira (P5): Uses the public’s belief and support of him and his friends to SUMMON A 100 STORY DEMON LORD TO SHOOT THE BIG BAD IN HIS FACE WITH A GIANT GUN THAT SHOOTS A BULLET MADE OF PURE SIN.

its au time you sons of hecks

Keep reading

Do not attempt to intimidate me.
My teeth are sharp. Divinity burns in my veins and holy scripture echoes in my throat.
I watched your creation.
I saw the beginning.

I am gentle by nature.
I am full of love, and it is freely given.

But make no mistake,
angels are weaponized light, given dangerous form.
And there is much of me that remembers.


“The wars they fought,
the things they taught.
Their spirit still lives on.
The blood they bled,
the tears they shed.
We mustn’t forget!”

Jason Todd has a throw pillow with the phrase “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but a crowbar would do it so much quicker” cross stitched onto it. (No one quite knows where he got it from, but the truth is he made it himself.) It is is his weapon of choice when someone says something stupid. His Bitch Slap Pillow™, if you will.


(A/N): I’m so sorry this is so short but I really couldn’t come up with anything for it :(

Request: Could you write an Avengers/X-men ficlet where the reader assembles the team and confesses to being a mutant? Like, he/she always explained their abilities away as technology or something?

Warnings: none

Tags: @mcuimxgine, @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x, @saradi1018, @holland-toms, @superwholockian309, @fly-f0rever, @capbuckthor

Originally posted by lonlonmilk

   You pace up and down the exterior of the Helicarrier, ringing your hands together as you awaited all the other superbeings to arrive. You knew Nat, she’d been your partner since day one and the two of you were unbelievably close but you didn’t know anyone else in the group. Sure, you’d heard all the stories, the great god of thunder, the two smartest men alive, and the hero who seemed to survive it all. You were more than nervous to meet them, after all, they were these great amazing people and you were- well, you were you. 

   “(Y/N),” Nat places a gentle hand on your shoulder, steadying your nerves only slightly. “It’s okay, they’re gonna love you,” You chuckle dryly, your entire being going taut at the sight of the infamous Bruce Banner and Steve Rogers. Nat smiles just a bit as the two men board the ship, keeping her authoritative demeanor up even when she was trying to be kind. 

   “Mr. Rogers, Mr. Banner,” She greets the two, giving them a firm handshake. “I’m Natasha Romanoff and this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” You give the two a polite smile, hoping you didn’t look to nervous. “They’ll be joining our little team of ours,” The two men smile back, Bruce a bit more nervously but Steve’s a bit more confidently. 

   “You work for shield then?” Steve asks, cocking a brow at you. You nod your head, smiling only a bit proudly. 

   “Yes I do,” 

   “You’re an agent?” 

   “Of sorts,” You reply, gently shrugging your shoulders. Steve smiles a bit brighter, nodding his head. “And you miss Romanoff?”

   “I’m an expert in espionage, weapons, and more than a few forms of mixed martial arts,” She smiles sweetly before turning on her heel, a spring in her step as she walked towards the entrance of the helicarrier. “You two might want to follow me, I think Fury would like to speak with all of us,” 

   “All of us?” Bruce asks, his tone holding more nerves than before. 

   “We’ve got two other players in this game; Tony Stark and Thor,” 

   “Thor? Like the god of thunder?” Nat smiles, humming a bit. 

   “Yep,” Bruce gives you a nervous look but you give him a reassuring smile, hoping that it didn’t look too painful. 

   “What about you?” Steve asks, cocking his head at you. “What do you specialize in?” You share a look at Nat, an almost nervous one but you pocket it away, bound and determined to lie to Steve’s face and to make it sound good too. 

   “I specialize in weapons, I’m working on some pretty big stuff right now,” You smile at him, still hoping that the two men couldn’t see through your lie. “And why are you here Mr. Rogers?” Steve chuckles, shaking his head just a bit. 

   ‘I really don’t know, apparently Shield thinks I’m good enough to join your little team,” 

   “Well,” You size him up, giving him a little lopsided smirk, “You aren’t wrong,” 

    How had everything gone downhill so fast? One minute all of you were friends and the next everyone was screaming at each other, demanding the truth and whatnot. 

   “Did you know shield’s been making weapons?” Tony asks, pulling up a secret file. 

  “How did you-” Fury begins but Tony cuts him off once again. 

  “Weapons using the very item we’re hunting, now I don’t know about you guys but this seems just a tiny bit fishy to me,” 

   “Shield’s been storing weapons too,” Steve mutters, throwing an old hydra gun onto a table. Tony hums, staring at the weapon with pursed lips. 

   “Is there anything you’d like to tell us?” Tony asks Fury, squinting his eyes in distaste. 

   “I assure you-” You begin, only to have Tony cut you off as well. 

  “Oh no, don’t you even get started, you can’t talk when it comes to secrets (Y/N).” You look at Tony strangely, a brow cocked in confusion. “I read your file, I know what you are, what you can do-” Your mouth runs dry, your tongue becoming a slab of sandpaper at his words. “Mind manipulation? Interesting sort of weapon is it not?” Steve turns to look at you, a look of distaste upon his face. “Is it even considered a weapon?” Tony continues, tapping his chin in thought. “Or are you?” 

   “Fine,” You mutter, folding your arms over your chest. “Yeah, I’ve got- I’ve got some freaky talents but never once have I ever used them for anything other than the greater good-” 

   “Really? What about this team, this other team you were on- the x-men or whatever they’re called,” 

   “It’s a team of people like me, people with abilities,” 

   “Mutants. You mean Mutants,” Tony mutters, clicking his tongue in disappointment. You hang your head, biting your lip as guilt and shame consumed you. Even with his words you knew what he meant- Freak. You were a Freak. 

Azriel coming home from a long, quiet night of scouting, nothing too intense, though his muscles ache and his skin is chilled from flying through the cold, winter air.

Azriel padding inside from the balcony and seeing Morrigan curled up tightly beneath the sheets of their bed, knees tucked almost into her chest.

Azriel taking a thoughtful moment to consider her hair as it falls out across the pillow in golden waves that glimmer in the pale moonlight as she gives the faintest snore.

Azriel smiling softly to stop his chuckle as he removes his weapons, places Truth-Teller against the wall with a dull thud, and begins working on the fastenings of his leathers.

Azriel turning in tickled surprised towards the bed when his leathers disappear, replaced by his bare chest and a clean pair of casual pants to sleep in that Morrigan has deemed fitting for him as she giggles at him half drunk with sleep from the bed.

Azriel padding over to her in that bed, enjoying himself as he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and watches her eyes close, his impatient little love, she is.

Azriel moving between the sheets and pulling his Morrigan into his chest, forever craving the way her body opens immediately up and lets him in.

Azriel listening to her breathe back into sleep.

Azriel letting her pull him under.

Azriel and his Morrigan.