Captured, Interrogated, Excited [FF, BDSM, Sadism]

>Wrote this for the SO using her favorite Overwatch character. It’s not exactly a masterpiece but I thought it might be enjoyed by someone so here it is. Enjoy. Names were changed, obviously. And apologies for the formatting, it was a nightmare to get it to this point let alone try to make it pristine.

The breeze was a minor factor, a slight annoyance as she looked down the scope of the high powered rifle. It meant minor adjustments, slight calculations that were made in the back of the mind, things that she didn’t even consciously consider anymore. It wasn’t necessary to. The breeze caught at the fringes of her black hair and shook it this way and that, making the tight ponytail of lengthy hair like a flicking tail, a pendulum marking the moments left.

She paused for a moment and lowered the rifle, the scope receding, the rifle collapsing into its more compact form as she relaxed for a moment. A hand rose to her ear, pressing at the comlink within her helmet. “Widowmaker, au rapport,” she said, her voice a firm but quiet sound, a tone that gave information and expected nothing but what she needed in return.

The Emissary [BDSM, Sadism] (More to come?)

There has long been a worldwide understanding that war is a terrible thing, that it is a violence that tears asunder and destroys, and that it should be avoided. It is also well understood that war is unavoidable. There is no perfect world here, no utopia that means everyone remains at peace. There is evil, and corruption and simple ignorance that leads to violence, that leads to war. It cannot be escaped, only dealt with.

With this understanding comes further understandings, further ideas that are recognized and acknowledged as full truth. One of these truths is that in the horrors of war, those that are the worst off are your front line men. Those brave infantry people, men and women of valor, who are the first charge of any conflict. They receive the first clash of arms, the first slamming together of the shield wall, the first volley of musket or cannon or magic. And there is no doubt, no room for argument, that they are truly in a difficult place. They will die and scream and feel pain as they lose the last of their lives.