8 Works by AmaranthBlue
Listing Works
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Summary
Genji takes the package from him, rolling his eyes, then looks up to Jesse. “I don’t think I can do anything to you against the wall,” he admits, though it is a nice thought. “You’re too tall.”
Jesse gives a pointed look around the shop. “Reckon they got a stepstool around here somewhere.”
The one where they're retired, in love, and try something new.
Late birthday gift for a friend.
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Summary
This is how it goes, he thinks. In all the Westerns, all the books, all the movies, everything he’s ever buried his head in for an escape from life, they always warn you: The age of the outlaw is coming to an end. This land will be settled, the West will be won. This is no place for outlaws, not anymore.
“Look,” Jesse finally says, and the argument comes to a screeching halt as they suddenly remember they’re not alone. “We don’t need to fight back. Let’s just sell off the shit we still got in the garage, get our cash, and get outta here. Head up north, maybe. Where the trains don’t run. Lie low for a few months, then we can get back to business.”
For the last two years, the Deadlock Gang has been a scourge on the Southwest United States. Up until a job goes wrong and draws international attention, leading Overwatch and one Gabriel Reyes right to their doorstep.
Jesse McCree takes matters into his own hands.
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Jesse has never been shot before. Today is the first, and he hopes it’s the last, but he knows that he’d never be that lucky. Still, he’s only been trying this whole outlaw thing for less than a year, and he’s taken a shine to it, and it would be a damn pity for him to bleed out in the back of a dirty old pickup truck with Ashe’s hands trying in vain to staunch the flow of blood.
“It ain’t that bad,” Ashe says, lying through her teeth.
Jesse gets shot. Ashe deals with it. No one ever said being an outlaw was easy.
Just a short piece for me to sound out my thoughts on Deadlock.
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Summary
Reyes swears, and Jesse laughs—the windows are rolled down, and the night air is rushing through his hair, thick with the scent of honest to god freedom, a hint of a memory of what life was like before the man sitting next to him snatched it all away.
“Pull over.” Reyes never once raises his voice—Jesse wonders if that’s a tactic to keep himself intimidating. No one in power ever ought to yell in order to be listened to. “Before you blow this whole operation.”
Jesse’s never been real good at doing what he’s told. He shoots a grin over at him and accelerates, watching the little needle roll past 50, 60, 70. “Settle down, old man. I’ll get you your damn gunrunners.”
Jesse McCree's first mission with Blackwatch doesn't quite go according to plan.
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Summary
Genji shifts, sits up straighter, tilts his head. Blinks once, slowly, like a disinterested cat. “What are you doing here, McCree?”
“Missed my shadow,” he replies, and offers a smile.
In which the boys make a deal and dance around their feelings.
Could be read on its own, though it is part of a series.
Series
- Part 2 of koi no yokan
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“Arsenic is colorless, tasteless, and odorless,” Genji says calmly, matter-of-factly, making no move towards the hot chocolate Jesse had slid towards him.
This is the first time Genji’s actually spoken to him, outside of combat, and even then he keeps his replies short, clipped, and nothing beyond what's strictly necessary to complete their mission. All Jesse’s had to go on for a guess at his personality is the tone of his voice.Jesse blinks. “Pardon?”
Genji has a thing about getting murdered. Jesse might have a thing for Genji. They're working on it.
Series
- Part 1 of koi no yokan
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Back in Blackwatch, Genji was the one who needed comforting, and Jesse was happy to oblige.
After the Recall, Jesse's too stubborn to admit that maybe he needs some, too.
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Something is wrong.
This is the first thing Amélie Lacroix thinks, as she’s lying in bed, staring out the window and wishing she had a ground level apartment.
Gérard is out on ‘business ventures’, and she's been left alone for the next week. Of course, he has to leave on the one day she has to rest. After a particularly difficult performance last night, leaving her falling into bed with half a face of make-up still on.
She didn't want him to leave this morning. Something about it was off, a sense of wrongness in her gut that only twisted and tightened like a knife in her chest as she watched him drive off into the dark.