You asked and I shall deliver! Prompt: (Widowtracer pls) I'm not cute when I'm angry shut up why are you laughing & shut up im not cute stop calling me cute you're making me angry
I wrote part of this earlier and then accidentally deleted the file and so now here is a partial rewriting, a lot of crying, and a not very good second go. Because life. I may one day rewrite the ending so it’s not such a rush - thank you for the prompt(s)!!
Lena’s fiddling with her gear, spinning on her heels. She sticks her pulse bomb to the boulders of the cave entrance - maybe this time they’ll blow away the rubble? Maybe, maybe, but then - maybe not, too.
Amélie has murder in her eyes but no rifle in her hands so she’s taken to crossing her arms, glaring, sighing, recognizing that sighing doesn’t quite seem severe enough and so glaring more.
Lena thinks some god has taken pity on her, that Amélie’s weapon is currently crushed under the rocks of the cave in.
“Bombs away,” Lena chirps, endevouring to lighten the mood. She shrinks when Amélie’s eyes narrow by a hair.
There was a time, not so terribly long ago, that Amélie would have smiled at her behind a hand and made a quip and Lena’s heart would have fluttered stupidly and guiltily: it was unpleasant (but also exciting) to have a crush on a married woman.
Now, Lena’s heart still flutters stupidly and she still feels guilty, but Amélie does not smile - she turns her head and stares hard at the wall to their right; Lena is reminded of everything they no longer are to one another.
Confidantes and comrades top that list like cream settled above some nastier thing.
They both cover their ears. The blast is blue light in a dark world, and it stirs up dust and little bits of rock, but when the debris clears, the entrance is still blocked and they’re still stuck on the wrong side. That was Lena’s last bomb. Lena says as much; when Amélie simply glares back, she speaks up again:
“Don’ worry, love, Overwatch’ll have us out in a jiffy!” And Lena wants it to be the truth, but chances are actually more likely that Talon will be here first; everyone in Overwatch is out in the field. Amélie doesn’t know this, it’s probably better that way.
Here’s what transpires to get them to now: Lena is flying over the United States and on her way back from a mission when she picks Amélie up on her radar. Amélie has been MIA from Talon for several months now, and equally absent from Overwatch’s radars. (So has Gabriel, for that matter, though Lena has not found Gabriel on her radar over the continental United States and doesn’t think she’s likely to).
Lena lands in Montana; in the crossfires of a shootout between Amélie and some Talon operatives and it’s an easy thing, really, the easiest thing, for Lena to blink into the chaos and aid the purple-skinned grump master.
Most of it’s reflex, some of it’s hope - a tiny bit of it is that crush she’s never gotten over, and likely never will.
And this fire fight starts in a winter-coated forest - through trees and snow - ending with a bang in an abandoned coal mine, where Lena’s pulse bombs don’t even scratch the boulders blocking the exit, where Amélie glowers at the wall (and at Lena, and at life in general probably), and where two Talon agents know their whereabouts and have probably already called in reinforcements.
It is not, Lena is happy to say, the /worst/ day of her life. It just happens to not be a particularly great one either.
And now: Amélie huffs once more, brushes the rubble from her coat. (A beautiful peacoat type thing, suited for cool weather but definitely not combat. Lena wonders where she got it and why she’d wear it; but then she also wonders why she wouldn’t wear it literally everywhere all of the time, too, because Lena would. Lena would in an instant.)
“Merde,” Amélie mutters.
A moment later Lena replies with a half sighed “shite.” And Lena is ready to hunker down against the wall and wait to see what happens, but Amélie is apparently weighing the alternatives.
“We will not wait for Overwatch,” Amélie says after a time, “we will be dead before they have even crossed the Atlantic.” Lena is too dumbfounded to immediately follow, even as Amélie pivots with all the grace of a dancer and begins to take sure and long strides further into the mine shaft.
Lena has a few questions: How does Amélie know that no agents are in the Western Hemisphere? Where can they possibly go except deeper underground? How can someone look that good all of the time doing nothing but walking? “We”?
“We?” Lena settles on; clambers away from the entrance and scurries to Amélie’s side.
“Oui.” Amélie says.
Lena blinks. There are solid moment of dead silence between them as the pun shoots across Lena’s mind like lightning, short circuiting vitally important synapses which had previously been working very hard to transfer the data needed to keep up with all the new events unfolding in her life.
When all systems are back online Lena laughs hard enough that she has to reach for the wall to brace herself. By the way Amélie’s lip barely twitches upward, one can surmise that this was the intention.
The mines are … drafty, Tracer thinks. And way too quiet for her tastes. There are other adjectives to describe it, but Lena’s trying to keep a positive outlook.
In another time, this might have been how the whole ordeal ends: a silent trek through the inside of a mountain, a lot of repressed thoughts, an escape, a disappearance and a debriefing. Not a conversation, not much of anything at all. Lucky for them both, Lena has no idea how to shut up.
“Sooooooooo,” Lena ventures, bumping shoulders with Amélie. She flashes a winsome smile. Water drips around them. Amélie spares her a side-eyed glance, blinks like a languid cat, and let’s out a soft “hm?”
It’s a good start.
“Montana’s…,” Lena ventures and then finishes lamely: “interesting?” She grins, and hopes that Amélie will let her in on the secret as to why she’s here. This is the kind of information you can get by being cute right? Lena slept through the seminar on casual interrogation. Lena slept through a lot of those seminars, actually … Winston would be so disappointed if he knew …
Amélie turns to regard her more fully. They’ve reached an open cavern, with a ceiling and a lot of rusty equipment. Three new tunnels sprout out of the wall across from the tunnel they’ve just exited. Lena’s chronal accelerator is their only source of light and it casts the whole area in a blueish glow.
“That you were able to find me is also interesting,” Amélie replies, skeptical. Lena blushes.
“Well, I’m always on the look out for you, love. You know, ‘cause of the murder thing.”
“You do often appear where I least want you to,” says Amélie. Lena grins, is about to respond, when a clatter echoes from one of the tunnels. Amélie throws her hand over Lena’s mouth and pulls her behind an overturned mining cart.
“Can that be turned down?” She hisses, pointing to the bright chronal accelerator. There are noises like approaching footsteps from the left tunnel. Lena shakes her head and when Amélie removes her hand she elaborates.
“I never thought to ask Winston for a dimmer setting,” she says. Amélie rolls her eyes.
“No one in Overwatch knows how to be discrete,” she mutters, “it is a wonder you all manage to stay alive.”
“Heya, we do alright!” Lena fires back. “And discrete my ass, you walk around in a cat suit!”
“Shhhhh, ta gueule,” Amélie hisses. Lena has the sense not to argue, and honestly thank god because she’d probably say something she’d later regret if they started to talk for any length of time about the catsuit.
They both hold their breath as the footsteps and the people who were making them enter the cavern.
It was a nice sentiment to believe that they wouldn’t see the blue glowing, but in the real world these Talon agents aren’t that blind and they immediately b-line. It looks like their two friends from outside of the mine shaft have found more friends because now there are six men.
“Enculer,” Amélie barks, her eyes are darting around the room and after a second so does her body - leaving Lena dumbfounded behind the cart.
“Hey!” She yells, caught off guard. Amélie is not paying attention though and the men are at her back door, so Lena jumps up, grabs her gun and blinks behind the first of her assailants.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she beams, hitting him in the head with the butt of her pistol. “Ouch,” she says with a whistle, as he crumpled to the ground, uncontentious.
Amélie has made her way to a box of rusty tools, she picks up a crowbar just as another of the men reaches her. In a fluid motion she has knocked him down and out. Not with the crowbar, as Lena thought she might, but with a swift kick to the ear … it had impressive height, and probably busted the drum.
Lena whistles louder this time, mostly in awe. Amélie’s eyes snap to her and there’s a certain ferociousness to the way her face is so eerily calm when her eyes are raging storms; and suddenly Amélie is hurling the crowbar at her and Lena feels two part betrayed one part blind panic. She recalls out of the way and stabilizes just in time to see the crowbar make contact with a man who is now in the place she had just been. It hits him square between the eyes and he falls over without protest.
While Lena collects herself, stares dumbly, (continues to completely useless, Amélie will later say) Amélie grabs another weapon from her box - a wrench - and hurls it another of the Talon agents. Same spot, right on the mark.
Lena’s able to pull herself together long enough to shoot another in the foot and he spends so long dramatically crying that they can both hear him as the last remaining man drags them both down the tunnel they came from. The screaming echoes on for a solid minute.
Lena turns to Amélie, Amélie stares at Lena.
Amélie looks ten shades of annoyed, she’s holding another weapon - a screwdriver - and there’s a definitive twitch of her eyebrow. The scene is so absurdly adorable that Lena turns beet red and a ridiculous giggle bubbles in her throat and into the open air between them.
“Holy hell,” wheezes Lena, grabs her stomach, turns her back quickly to Amélie and tries to hide it all.
“Are you laughing?” Amélie asks, dropping the screwdriver. Lena shakes her head.
“You just look …” there’s a pause, a breath, as Lena tries to determine how much she values her life, and concludes that apparently, it’s not very much, “… really cute, love,” she finishes. A moment.
“… what?” Another moment.
“When you were all ruffled and with the screwdriver,” Lena laughs, and then tries to stifle it when Amélie only glares, “no, yeah, sorry, sorry.” But she is still grinning.
Finding their way out is relatively easy when they follow the trail of blood left by their friend shot in the foot.
In the open air Lena breathes deeply and grins at Amélie.
“Not a bad day, eh?” She smiles. She expects the cold shoulder, or a walk away but Amélie surprises her when she simply replies:
“I have had worse,” and then: “you’re cute when you laugh.”
hey guess what if you think terezi looking for vriska in the void was a good ending for her you should probably unfollow me and never talk to me because an abuse victim throwing away her happiness to go hunt for her abuser because she loves her and can’t function without her is not a happy ending it’s bullshit.
Rick, I want you to take your ax, cut your son’s left arm off, right on that line. Now, I know, I know, you’re gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still though, I’m gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then Carl dies, then the people back home die, and then you, eventually.
Okay, so because I absolutely love the color au created by the wonderful @mooksmookin, i felt the need to draw the scenes where Oikawa helps Hinata escape as well as the park scene described in this ask. But, I may have gone a little… overboard and ended up making a mini comic. I hope that’s okay. 〳 •́ ﹏ •̀ )
So anyway, hopefully the little time skip wasn’t too confusing/choppy, and please ignore the awful backgrounds–especially the ugly trees (i tried).
Rey has a special gift - some uncanny powers of observation. Thanks to her father, Luke Skywalker, a former detective who taught his daughter to remember even the smallest details, Rey can pick up on things others can’t. When she is accused of committing a crime that she actually solved, she convinces the cops, including head detective Poe Dameron, that she’s a psychic - and with the help of her future boyfriend best friend Finn, Rey starts solving cases for a skeptical but increasingly impressed police force, led by interim chief Leia Organa.