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Femgineer gaming
Gray Hair
(Okay so this is new: because I’ve been itching to do more with my fem!merc characters, I finally decided to just write a small drabble involving some cutesy stuff with Luisa, my medic, and Manya, my Heavy. My soul just needed this...enjoy.)
“Look at my hair!”
Manya blinked in surprise when she suddenly felt the weight of her wife in her lap, and she set her book aside. “What? What is wrong?”
Luisa leaned closer, parting her hairline just enough to show Manya the little flecks of gray dotting along her roots. “See? I am getting so old!”
Manya chuckled a little, tucking her finger beneath Luisa’s chin, giving her a kiss. “Oh, but you are so beautiful, Doktor,”
“I never said I was not beautiful,” Luisa reassured. “But I am surprised! So strange...”
Manya frowned, putting an arm around the smaller woman and pulling her close. “Why? Why strange?”
Luisa shifted, her head coming to rest on her wife’s chest, letting out a little breath. “I also saw older women, and I knew someday I would get old, but perhaps it’s never fully sunken in..until now. I had to see it myself,” she shrugged. “It’s not ugly, but surprising. Reminds one of their own mortality, do you know what I mean?”
Manya nodded solemnly. “I know, but I do not like to think of it. Not for too long,”
“I understand that,” Luisa hummed, and she kissed Manya’s cheek. “You are so kind to listen, mein liebe...”
Manya relaxed against the bed, adjusting herself to hold Luisa more comfortably. “Of course, Doktor...I love you. You are the most beautiful woman,”
Luisa just laughed, cuddling up close, pillowing her head on Manya’s chest. “Oh, but so are you...” she traced little patterns all over her wife’s skin. “I may be old, but I am so lucky,”
BLU Heavy and BLU Medic UwU
Trying to quick draw my fem mercs (ft. Mr. Pauling), turns out a bit weird lmao. I need help at drawing Pyro 😂
Fic 506: Waking With You
Hey all! I had a request for some fem!Pyro x Sniper, so I did a quick little sequel to Waiting for You. Hope you enjoy!
Sniper always woke early. Most days, it was just part of the normal routine of a professional assassin, or an old habit that that farm boy inside of him refused to give up. It wasn’t that he was a morning person, per se; not a single other mercenary would dare approach his campsite before the smell of black coffee hung heavy in the air. He just got up early, and today that was fine by him.
The first rays of daylight worked their way through cracks in the curtains; the pale blue light making it just light enough inside the camper to see the tousled head of hair that was resting on his chest. He resisted the urge to run his fingers through it. It didn’t take much to wake Pyro up.
He settled for doing what he did best.
Watching.
In the cool morning air of the New Mexico desert, Pyro’s body in his bed was a welcome thing. Not napalm hot, but rather pleasantly warm and with a tendency to wrap herself around him in her sleep. Along with the aforementioned head on his chest, there was an arm curled around his stomach, and a leg tangled with his own. Half of Pyro’s solid frame on top of his own, a comfortable weight that he could feel even in his sleep, anchoring him well enough to keep away that dark dreams that mercenaries sometimes had.
He watched as her shoulders, with muscles built through years of hauling fuel tanks, rose and feel with each slow breath that ghosted across his skin. Scars and burns dotted her back in between birthmarks to create an odd patchwork that covered her entire body.
For a moment he wondered what Pyro did before becoming a mercenary, or what she would have done if she never had. In the end, he couldn’t imagine, and pushed the thought away. Dwelling on what-ifs and before times rarely came to much. It was better sticking to the here and now.
Speaking of which...
“Hey.” He finally gave into temptation and ran his fingers through the tangled mop of hair.
“Mmmmm..?”
A pair of sleepy green eyes slowly looked up at him, and he was relieved. There was no sign of the nervousness or fear that had been there the first time she realized that he could see all of her in the light. Now there was a calmness. She knew she was safe here.
“Need to take a piss.”
She blinked at him and then giggled before rolling off of him. Sniper slipped to the floor and out the door. He didn’t bother with pants. They were too far out from base to worry about early morning visitors.
Pyro was sitting up on the bunk when he came back in. The quilt that had covered them through most of the night sat across her shoulders as her legs dangled over the edge, swinging back and forth as she hummed softly to herself.
As he pulled the door shut, he lingered with his hand on the handle as if that simple lack of motion would be enough to freeze this moment in time, or at least make it last a little bit longer. If he moved, he’d make breakfast. Then Pyro would make the bed. As the sun continued rising in the sky, they’d have to get ready to leave. Soon he’d be pulling down his rifle and SMG to clean and prep for the day’s match.
Soon she’d disappear into the suit, once again becoming the faceless Pyro rather than the woman who was shyly looking at him out of the corner of her eyes.
At least, perhaps, until tonight.
Ludmila and Gisela are old
Day 258: Reunions [Pt. 3]
Darkness had fallen over the base to let the cool desert air relieve nature from the blazing heat of the day. The moon was shining brightly overhead with the stars dancing all around to illuminate the ground almost as clear as day. All it took was a few minutes away from the artificial lights of the base, and Sniper found the path she wanted.
The welcome had been warm when PPL had arrived at the base. Engineer and Miss Pauling were an expected welcome wagon, but Medic and Heavy hadn’t been far behind. They’d found Pyro coloring at the kitchen table once they’d gone inside, and they’d waved and gave their muffled version of a hello. Demoman and Soldier had been finishing the last of their weapon checks, and Scout gave a mildly
Sniper was nowhere to be seen. Not that anyone was particularly surprised.
She knew where he was, of course. He’d be in the same spot she would be. Away from everyone in the comfort of his little camper, or lounging in a camp chair in front of a brightly burning fire with a beer in his hand. At least he had better be. She was certainly ready for one.
With her rifle slung over her shoulder, Sniper trod along the rocky path to where she’d last seen the RED’s camper. If he was as like her as she thought, she had a pretty good idea where he’d be camped. It wasn’t a long walk, she just had to walk over a few small hills, slip through a little canyon, and jump over a narrow creek. By the time she walked over the last ridge, she could see the small pinprick of light flickering from his campfire.
“‘Bout time you got here.” Sniper didn’t move as she approached. “You know where the beer is.”
She snorted a response, but set her rifle to the side and headed towards the camper. Inside, just like she used to keep it in her own little ute, was a small fridge with the familiar squat bottles of Victoria Bitter carefully placed inside. She grabbed the first one her fingers touched, not even caring that is was barely below room temperature. It was cool outside anyway.
Stepping back outside, Sniper settled down on a log that had been rolled next to the fire circle. Pulling out her utility knife, she flicked open the can opener and popped off the cap. Slouching forward, resting an elbow on her knee, she tossed the cap into the fire as she tipped the bottle up and almost smiled. Warm or not, it had been far too long since she’d had a good lager.
Pyro watched as the PPL team filed past the kitchen. PPL Scout and Miss Pauling were walking super duper close to each other, and Spy and Engie were walking even closer. They watched their own Scout has his eyes followed the two couples with a sour look on his face that Pyro didn’t quite get. Everyone else seemed happy.
A few minutes later the two Medics passed by chatting in lively German, at least that’s what they presumed because they couldn’t understand a word of it - and both Heavies followed behind, seemingly to be trying to outdo each other in just how many bags they could carry. It was close, but Pyro thought that the PPL Heavy had it in the bag.
She had hips. You could carry a lot on a good pair of hips.
Picking up the green crayon, they started to color in the grass, carefully keeping inside the lines while they waited.There was loud laughter and excited shuffling in the hall as the PPL Demo and Soldier passed on by on their way to their temporary bunks, with Sniper shuffling along behind. It was nice to see them all again, but they kept on waiting.
After a little more time, they heard muffled breathing and looked up. A pair of glassy black eyes looked back at them.
“Hudda?”
“Hudda!” The PPL Pyro happily replied, hugging the blue Balloonasaurus to their chest.
Pyro quickly got up, the coloring forgotten, and ran out of the door. They grabbed PPL’s hand as they spend on by, dragging them along towards the small room at the end of the hall. Their room, their private place.
Throwing open the door, they came to a screeching halt. For a moment they just stood there, RED Pyro, PPL Pyro, and Balloonasaurus. Then slowly, carefully, PPL Pyro crept forward, with Balloonasaurus in their hands. As they reached the bed, they carefully set the blue reptile down on top of the blankets and then stepped away until they were back, elbow to elbow with RED. Then they waited, both mercenaries holding each other in anticipation.
It felt like forever that they stood there, just watching. But suddenly, Balloonasaurus moved, tipping over to nuzzle their muzzle against the demurely waiting Balloonicorn.
Both Pyro’s let out their collective breaths. It had been six long months, and few things were a fickle as the heart. But it seemed as if, despite all odds, Balloonicorn and Balloonasaurus’ affection had remained true.
And that was true love.