warm widow

Wynonna Has Fun Messing with Widow Mercedes Using Figures of Speech at the Diner:
  • Wynonna: "Silver spoon up your ass again?"
  • Widow Mercedes: *Turns to check her behind*
  • Wynonna (who's suspecting something): *Hmmm* "Anyway, I'd give my right hand for a nice warm coffee right now."
  • Widow Mercedes: "Wh- why would anyone just want a hand? It's not like a right hand can be used in any summoning rituals. Now a left hand..."
  • Dolls: "Are you okay?"
  • Wynonna: "Yeah, she's fine. She's bright eyed and bushy tailed as ever."
  • Widow Mercedes: *Frowns* I just checked my behind I don't think a tail could grow in that amount of time."
  • Wynonna: "Well, I gotta go (and find out what happened to the real Mercedes). See you later, alligator!" *Starts walking away*
  • Widow Mercedes: "...Why did you just compare me with that horrendously ugly reptile? Is it my face?" *pulls out mirror*
  • Wynonna (wondering how much Not- Mercedes will take literally): "Break a leg! (*under her breath* definitely somewhat evil being that Imma shoot with Peacemaker)"
  • Widow Mercedes: *Starts experimentally slamming her leg into a wall* "How would that benefit me?"
“Amelie, Don’t do it”- Widowtracer

Widowmaker sighed as she glanced at the empty space beside her. It has been over a week since Lena was kidnapped and Winston was struggling to find out her location. All Widow could do was sit and wait. Her and the mattress groaned in unison as she stood up, her bare feet touching the cold hardwood floors of the bedroom. With a gentle push the door gave way, almost blinding her with the bright artificial light. As she rummaged through the cabinets for something edible to eat she heard the fwoosh of a holovid turning on.

With a confused frown Widow glanced at the now active holovid, wondering how it activated. “Must be broken” She murmured, her hands clutching an opened bag of chips. Her feet made a soft pat on the floor with each step as she sauntered towards the blank screen. Her hands grasped the slender remote on the coffee table, ready to turn the thing off.

As if on cue color swarmed the once blank screen, static crackled in the background as what appeared to be a video chat started up. Within seconds a small, plump man with a round face and pudgy arms filled the screen. Widow furrowed her brow as she searched for any memories of this man. “Ah, hello Widowmaker! It has been some time since we last spoke. It was over three years ago was it not?” His voice was somehow happy as he said this.

Widow frowned as she thought still, her mind racing. “Pardon me but I don’t appear to remember. Maybe if you said something I could try and remember?” She offered politely.

“Okay, how about this” He had an amused twinkle in his eyes as he cleared his throat, “Don’t squirm, Amelie. It will only make the pain worse” His voice was five times deeper than before, the words rolling off his tongue like silk.

Widowmaker stiffened, the statement triggering a deeply hidden memory in the farthest corners of her mind.

Amelie lay on what appeared to be your standard issue medical bed. However something was off. Her wrists, ankles and torso were held down by thick leather straps. As she twisted her wrists in the cuffs she heard the incessant beeping of a heart monitor, signaling her rhythmic heartbeat. As she turned her head to the side she caught sight of a small yet nicely built man, his emotionless orbs staring back at her like a lioness. “Who are you?” She asked, her radiating waves of fear.

“You will simply call me sir after today.” He replied, a plump finger resting on a simple white button beside him.

“Wh-What’s that?” Was all she was able to choke out before he pressed the button, sending wave after wave of excruciating pain through her body. With a choked scream she yanked at her restraints, wanting to flee from the pain.

“Don’t squirm, Amelie. It will only make the pain worse” He purred into her ear as she yanked once again on the restraints, her wrists turning red.

“Now do you remember me?” A cruel smile formed on his plump, wet lips.

She looked at him and her eyes blazed with fury. “You are the one who did this to me?” She gestured to her body. “You broke me” She spat.

“Now, let’s not dawdle on the past, Widowmaker” He chuckled, “I have actually called you for a very specific reason”

“And that reason is?”

“This” He stepped aside to reveal a trembling, bruised, bloody girl who had her head dipped low. Her spiky hair wilted like a flower. He yanked at a handful of her hair, the girl straightening with a sharp cry of pain that pierced Widow’s heart. When she saw who she was her heart stopped as she took in the girl’s extensive array of bruises. Varying in color depending on the age and severity.

“L-Lena?” Widow cried out as the girl’s eyes widened when they met hers.

“W-Widow?” The girl cried out, her eyes lighting up briefly with hope. “P-Please tell me I’m actually seeing you”

Widow bit her lip as a thick lump rose in her throat, she couldn’t bear seeing her lover like this. Bruised and bloodied.

“Now, now, don’t get too excited Lena” He pressed his face into her hair, inhaling sharply as the girl tried to flinch away from his touch.

Widow growled, “Get away from her.” Her voice was fierce, borderline dangerous.

“Widow, she could be in your arms right now, on one condition” His eyes glinted with malice as they met the ferocious golden ones that stared back.

“And what’s this condition?”

“You come back to Talon. Swear your allegiance to me and only me. Or else we kill the girl” He snapped his plump fingers and a gun was pressed directly on Lena’s temple, her eyes widening as the cold muzzle touched her warm flesh.

“No!” Widow was shocked that the desperate, panicked voice belonged to her. “Don’t!” When the muzzle was pulled off her temple a large sigh of relief whooshed out of Widow, her shoulders slumping.

“Amelie, don’t do it!” Lena cried, her eyes desperate as she met Widows.

Widow visibly winced at the pathetic tone of her voice, how tears were practically dripping from the words. “But cherie if i don’t they’ll kill you…”

“You have two hours to decide,” He barked, cutting off Lena’s reply.

With a pop the holovid disappeared, leaving Widowmaker sitting on a couch with tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Wh-What am I going to do?” She sobbed, her shoulders rocking.

========================================================================================================

“N-No!” Lena screamed as she watched him end the call. “What kind of monster are you?” She shouted, tears burning her eyes as she shot a murderous look at him.

“A smart one”  He replied as he narrowed his eyes at her, reflecting her rage in his own.

She growled low in her throat, fingernails digging into her skin so hard that she drew blood. With a startled look she glanced at the bright red droplets that planted themselves onto the tips of her fingers. She turned away from his mocking gaze as she was yanked to her feet by strong hands. “Two hours until my fate is decided, right?” She mumbled in a defeated tone.

“Yes.”

“Great…”

Sometimes you walk past a pretty girl on the street there’s something beyond beauty in her face, something warm and smart and inviting, and in the three seconds you have to look at her, you actually fall in love, and in those moments, you can actually know the taste of her kiss, the feel of her skin against yours, the sound of her laugh, how she’ll look at you and make you whole. And then she’s gone, and in the five seconds afterwards, you mourn her loss with more sadness than you’ll ever admit to.
—  Jonathan Tropper, How to Talk to a Widower
I just really wanna share why I like Earth-2 characters

I’ve seen this idea (or some form of it) talked about maybe once and I don’t even think it was on this site so I wanna flesh this out:

The idea that the Earth-2 Doppelgangers aren’t just written as warped versions of the “originals”, but as, in a way, caricatures that represent the opposite of their “originals” as they are understood from the perspective of Barry Allen(-1) at the time of the Welcome to Earth-2 episode. To elaborate:

(essay length meta under the cut, including at least 3 paragraphs building up to why I think Reverb is The Shit.)

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