One-shots and headcanons for Team Fortress 2!
(Disclaimer) : Any content deemed as offensive is purely unintentional and does not reflect the author's personal views.
- Originally published in 2017 , and still on-going
- Cover Image Is Mine!
- Any A...
Under his cold exterior, I believe this man has a heart of gold.
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Warfare raged; the deafening sounds of gunfire and explosives filling the dusty air. (Y/n) raced into battle, determined to claim a victory for her team. Each enemy in her path, she took down swiftly, and while her eyes twinkled with irrepressible mischief, she would taunt an opponent with a cheeky, toothy smile on her face.
Securing their team colour on control points had never been so easy; in no time, battle will cease. (Y/n) remained with her team mates as the battle continued, keeping herself on-guard as the team were yet to capture another control point.
Catching her attention, out of the corner of her eye, (Y/n) noticed an opposing Spy wander off alone. With her fully-loaded shotgun under her tight grip, the girl smirked, hastily making a dash for the enemy entering a small alcove.
Before the assassin could hide himself with his cloaking device, (Y/n) charged towards the Spy, dropping her weapon as she slammed the man against the wall, pining him in place. The Frenchman drew in a sharp breath, his chest heaving from the impact. A light clank emitted from beside them, the girl glanced to the floor, noticing that the Spy had let his revolver slip from his grasp. She whipped a dagger from a small sheath strapped to her side, pressing the blade to the Spy's neck.
(Y/n) chuckled, a devilish glint flashing in her eyes. "You think I would let you get away?"
The Spy grinned. "It appears so."
In one swift, unsuspecting move, the assassin stabbed her stomach with his knife, seemingly hidden up his sleeve. The girl stumbled as all the air was knocked from her lungs. She gasped, placing a hand over her gaping wound, struggling as she reached for the shotgun lying on the ground. Just as her hand was inches away from the weapon, Spy slashed her chest, a deep, blood-oozing cut forming in a flash.
The girl dropped to the floor, merely throwing herself back against the dirt. Spy stepped over her body, straightening his attire as he retrieved his gun. A thick cloud of smoke enshrouded the assassin, his form taking place of her own. Her mouth hung agape for a moment as she eyed the Frenchman, now disguised as her very self. She hissed, her face scrunching up in pain as she clutched onto the gushing wound adorning her abdomen.
"Better luck next time." The Spy snickered, making his way out of the small tunnel.
Weakly, she cursed the man under her breath. A groan escaped her lips as her mind began to whirl, her vision fading in and out. A meek whisper for her Medic kissed the air; her call not loud enough to be heard. Blood gradually pooled around her body, the substance seeping between her fingers. She slumped, her hand falling from the wound she covered, slipping out of consciousness just as their team declared victory.
