Widowmaker Vs WidowTracer lemons
It was a Beautiful day outside at Overwatch HQ. The sun was shining, birds were singing, flowers were blooming and psychotic, genocidal children were burning in hell… so yes, a good day. But it was not to last. Junkrat was in his room, reading "The Giver" while contemplating the theory of evolution when he heard a cry of anger followed by glass shattering emanating from Widowmaker's room. He walked over to her room to see what the issue was, he didn't run because it was Overwatch HQ, window smashing was common around these parts
When he opened her door, he saw she was sitting at her computer, staring at the screen with a face of pure rage that could burn Mt. Everest to a crisp. "Milady, pray tell, what are you doing?" The Junker inquired.
"What does it look like?" Widowmaker yelled, "I'm reading a horrible story on the internet that Sombra recommended I read!"
Upon hearing her response, Junkrat was genuinely confused. Here was Widowmaker, the literal cold-blooded assassin herself, getting worked up enough to smash a window over a simple story…? On the internet, no less!
"Oh," Junkrat responded, "What might this piece of fiction be about?"
"…Just read it!" Widowmaker shouted, shoving the junker into her seat in front of the computer screen. What laid in front of his eyes was... well, something else.
It was a story depicting… not very safe-for-work actions between Widowmaker and Tracer. Such actions involved… creative uses for Tracer's blink among other things. The characters were also inaccurate, with Widowmaker being a stock tsundere instead of the cold assassin she was normally and Tracer being a naïve soldier type instead of her usual deadpan-snarker-genki-girl personality. Reaper and Junkrat were also in the story at one point and even their personalities were wrong, Reaper being a traumatised war veteran instead of an edgy emo gamer guy and Junkrat being an explosion obsessed maniac… essentially, the other personality that came out whenever the real Junkrat held his gun.
"Well, that was certainly inaccurate…ish." Stated Junkrat
"What do you mean 'Inaccurate…ish'?" Questioned Widowmaker
"Well, you do show a fair bit of denial for your feelings towards your comrade Tracer" The Junker answered.
"I-I do not have feelings for that dolt!" The assassin hastily replied.
Junkrat decided not to press on, as he preferred his manhood staying intact over making sure that WidowTracer became a thing. When leaving the room, he noticed that the Assassin was blushing profusely. He decided to file that information for later.
Tracer was sleeping on her bed, reading a comic book of the ancient, long-lost time of 2012. She was fascinated by it all, and filled with questions. Why was the Flash able to run so fast? What were Captain Cold's motives and, the biggest one of all… What did that "new 52" thing that made its way onto some of her comic book covers mean? It was all fine and dandy until Widowmaker burst through the door and put her gun to Tracer's head.
"Did you write that story?" The assassin questioned, a glare of utter fury on her face.
"What story" Tracer inquired.
"The story about you and me doing that indecent act with each other!" Widowmaker snapped back, showing the Pilot said story in question on her IPhone NXT4. Once Tracer had read a few chapters, she had decided to stop to give some answers.
"I didn't write this." Tracer stated.
Widowmaker just stared at her, only able to utter a flat "What?".
"Yeah, I didn't write this" The pilot repeated, giving back the device to the assassin, "I can't write stories this well."
Widowmaker thought to herself for a moment. If Tracer didn't write it, then who did? Then she realised that Reaper was also in the story.
"…Excuse me for a moment" Said Widowmaker, walking out the door. She immediately headed to Reaper's room, which was only a few doors away. Tracer hadn't written said story, and Junkrat didn't even know said story existed, so it had to be Reaper. After arriving at her destination, she suspected him to be doing something people in 2016 considered "cringey" … and sure enough…
"HEY! GET THE #*^% OUT OF MY ROOM, I'M PLAYING MINECRAFT!" Yelled the Edgelord. He was sitting in his room, playing the age-old game from long ago, with Evanescence's "Bring me to life" blasting through his headphones. It was like an edgy fourteen-year-old had gone through puberty in a second.
"Did you write this?" Questioned the assassin, again holding up her IPhone NXT4 with the story in question. Looking at it, he only decided to stop after five seconds.
"What's the name of the site you got this from?" He asked. Widowmaker sighed in exasperation, clearly Reaper didn't write it. Neither did Tracer, Junkrat or anyone else at Overwatch HQ… granted, she had neglected to check anyone else, but no one was likely to have written such a story. Not even Sombra, the one who recommended the story in the first place, would have written it and she knew the internet inside and out!
"…Nevermind" stated the assassin, slowly walking out of the room, leaving Reaper to begin raging, as he was killed by a creeper in his distraction. Upon closing the door, she had decided to give up trying to find the creator of the story. There was just no point. Besides, it was just a story, nothing really to get worked up about.
After apologising to Junkrat, Tracer and Reaper for wasting their time, Widowmaker went back to fixing her visor… or, at least, trying to fix her visor… and failing spectacularly, Junkrat went back to reading his book, Tracer began playing a game simulating a board game on an age-old system known as the "Nintendo 64" and Reaper went to fix his sucky looking Minecraft house made of dirt and the occasional block of wood.
Meanwhile, in a darkened room. Sombra sat triumphantly at her computer desk, having uploaded the next chapter to "WidowTracer, Love and War" to . The hacker also had a monitor showing several hidden cameras recording everything that just transpired. Widowmaker would never figure out it was her that did it. If the assassin did, Sombra would have to set Operation: WidowTracer into motion.
Suddenly, however, her scroll, imported directly from Vale, buzzed to life, "Prankwatch meeting in 15 minutes" said the text message that showed on the screen.
"Welp, I best go. Wouldn't want to miss this." The hacker said to herself. Chuckling evilly to herself.
Next Time on Widowmaker Vs: Widowmakers Vs Mary Sues. Expect it to suck.