Howdy, I'm DeckofDragons on Ao3. I'm super late to the party but welcome to my Team Fortress 2 blog. :)
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I did a Harvest Ghost Jack'o'lantern!
I know it's not actually called 'Harvest Ghost' but that's what I think of it as. It just feels like the Harvest Event map is it's home so it's named Harvest Ghost to me.
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TF2 Drabbles Demo & Scout - Medic's Making a Frankenstein
Summary: Scout wakes Demo to share news on Medic's latest medical atrocity.
[A/N] Special Halloween drabble, yay!
~
A frantic knocking jerked Demo out of sleep. It sounded urgent, clearly it was important. He stumbled out of the bed to answer it.
It was Scout. “Medic’s making a Frankenstein.” Never one to mumble, his words were perfectly audible if spoken a bit fast and yet… Demo had no idea what he meant. It was too early in the morning and he was too hungover for whatever this was.
“What?”
“Medic’s making a Frankenstein,” Scout repeated, speaking slower this time.
“He’s making a…” Demo cut himself off as it finally clicked. Of course Scout would make that mistake. “You mean he’s making a guy outta corpses?”
“Yeah, a Frankenstein! And it’s important because what if it does what Frankensteins do and goes on a rampage? Not that I’m like scared of it or nothing but it’s Medic so he’s probably gonna buff it. What if he gives it like permanent uber or something so we can’t kill it? So I was gonna destroy it before it’s even finished but Medic caught me and kicked me out. But with two people one us could distract him while the other destroys the Frankenstein. And you’re the best guy here at destroying shit. So that’s the plan; I give the doc the run around while you blow up the Frankenstein before it becomes a real threat.”
Demo barely held back a groan as he lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t had as much to drink last night as he could’ve had, resulting in his hangover being relatively light as far as hangovers went. But that didn’t mean he wanted to be woken up at the asscrack of dawn for this bullshit.
“First off laddie, why the bloody hell you gotta wake me up for this? Medic’s always doing weird shit with corpses, this ain’t nothing new. It easily could’ve waited. Second, Frankenstein is the doctor’s name so if anything Medic’s doing a Frankenstein, not making one.”
“Nah, his name’s Ludwig, isn’t it?”
“I meant Frankenstein’s the doctor that made the corpse monster. It doesn’t have a name… I think.” Demo had read the book but that had been a while ago and he’d since had more black out drunk episodes than he cared to count so his recall of its specifics was spotty at best.
“Whatever. All that doesn’t matter. What matters is I don’t wanna face the possibility of an ubered Frankenstein. You know what I mean? So you down to cooperate or not? I’ll go ask Pyro if you aren’t ‘cause he’ll probably be happy to burn the thing to the ground.”
Demo could try to correct him again about the monster’s name and/or about how said monster actually wasn’t prone towards violence – though admittedly in a real life scenario and with Medic at the helm, such wasn’t out of the question – but he was just too dang tired. Correcting Scout on anything almost always took more effort than it was worth. And destroying it before it as finished just in case might be wise but… if anyone could pull off such a feat, it was Medic and Demo wouldn’t mind seeing it.
“How ‘bout instead we just make Medic promise not to uber it or whatever? ‘Cause if we destroy it he’s gonna be right bloody pissed at us and that’s scarier than any ubered monster.”
Scout grimaced. “I guess that’s true. But still, I don’t like it. I watched that movie when I was kid and… and nothing ‘cause I ain’t scared of nothing. Not even Medic when he’s mad. I just think blowing it up would be funny.”
If the pounding in Demo’s skull wasn’t starting to grow more insistent with every moment the bright hall light pierced his eye, he would’ve poked at Scout for more. Scared of Frankenstein’s monster was not what he would’ve expected from him. It was kind of cute; loud brash hired killer was frightened of misunderstood fictional monster. He must’ve been real young when he’d watched that movie, perhaps something do to with being the youngest of however many brothers he had.
“Look, here’s the deal lad, I’m gonna head back to bed. We’ll chat with Medic ‘bout making sure he contains his monster properly later, ‘kay? And if he refuses, we’ll blow it up.”
Scout glared at him at him for a couple seconds before rolling his eyes. “Fine. Long as we do it before he ubers it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Soon as I wake up properly, promise.” More like after he’d had at least a coffee if not breakfast but close enough.
“Got it. I’ll keep an eye on it in the meantime.”
Demo shut the door with a relieved sigh, shutting out the wretched light. In payback for being woken so early he was going to tell everyone Scout was scared of Frankenstein’s monster. … Or maybe he’d be merciful and keep it a secret. He’d decide when he woke up. For now, he just crawled back into his bed.
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As is Halloween tradition, I've drawn and painted another Merasmus for a new profile pic here.
Happy 5th day of Halloween!
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TF2 Drabbles: Engie & Medic - Frostbite
Summary: Engie not coping with the freezing cold well and getting frost bitten or sick perhaps? 👀
~
On an intellectual level Engie had come prepared for the cold. Which was enough in theory but as with many things, in practice, it wasn’t quite so easy. In particular he’d somehow failed to account for a rather major change that made frigid environments an even bigger issue for him than before. Metal had a tendency to get quite cold when in freezing temperatures for too long. Enough so to be a problem when pressed against bare flesh.
Purplish gray streaks of frostbite grew from where the metal of his mechanical hand met the flesh of his arm. It didn’t hurt yet but was instead utterly numb. When it had time to start thawing properly it was going to hurt like hell. Right now though, he could sit in his workshop and just look at it, turning his wrist this way and that in morbid fascination.
Probably he should detach the hand as it wasn’t nearly warm enough in here for it to not still be doing damage. Or maybe he would let it go for a little bit longer and then use it as an excuse to upgrade to a full robot arm. The biggest problem with that though was that he didn’t have it ready to go. Nowhere close in fact. That idea was still in the blueprint phase. He would need two full functioning hands and arms to get it beyond that and into the prototype phase before eventually making it a reality.
And so with a sigh, he shifted closer to his work bench so he could start decoupling the hand. A process that took several minutes but eventually he got it off. Normally it hurt when he detached it from his nervous system. It was barely anything this time though. The reason why become obvious once his stump was fully freed of it. His entire end of his arm was a deep purplish black. Damn. It might be time to upgrade the hand after all.
He stood and quickly made his way out of the workshop. They’d been in this base for a grand total of two days now and it was bigger than it needed to be, meaning it took a bit to remember where Medic’s lab was set up. By the time he got there, the utter numbness had warming into a tingling. Which on the bright side meant he still had some feeling in part of his arm and thus it might be salvageable.
Upon knocking, he didn’t wait for an answer before barging in. It was kind of an emergency after all. Luckily Medic wasn’t doing anything untoward. He was looking up from adjusting the space heater he’d had Engie build to help keep his birds warm.
Engie walked up to him. “I fucked up, Doc.” He held up his frostbitten stump as evidence.
Medic shifted to look at it properly. Raising an eyebrow, he adjusted his glasses. “Wow. You got plans to extend that metal hand of yours?”
“Nothing buildable yet.”
“Well, you’re gonna have uneven arms for a little bit then. Would you like me do the sawing this time or do you want to do it yourself again?”
“Uh… you can do it this time.” Engie would rather never go through that again. “And if you could sedate me too, that’d be swell.”
Medic sighed. “Fine, if you insist.”
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TF2 Drabbles: RED Engie/BLU Spy - Third Time's the Charm
Summary: As long as things don't go down the robot body route, at least. It is nice how Engie's motive is half his own scientific curiosity, lol. With how obvious what happened would be (and how Engie is right, robots are cool), that would be a neat little "what if".to tale a quick look at here.
[A/N] This is a followup to this drabble.
~
The last two attempts had failed but Engie had it for sure this time… hopefully. It was likely his last try before Medic returned and started looking for the BLU Spy. Thus ideally, Spy would be out of here by then in his new body. Which was going to be this one for sure. Third time’s the charm and all that.
Placing his wrench to the side, he stepped back and examined it. It was a metal recreation of the BLU Spy’s body – or at least as close as Engie could get it without reference – including his fancy blue suit and tie. His first attempt he’d tried to make it look like a real human body but that was part of why it had failed; what little movement Spy had been able to do with it had been hampered by the imitation skin over everything. And then it had gotten caught in one of the joints and thus the idea had died. Perhaps he could return to it later when he had more time. For now though, one that worked was all that mattered and that was this one for sure.
He turned to look at Spy in his new place up on one of the workshop shelves, giving him a good view of it. It was late and thus not surprising that Spy had fallen asleep. He always looked much more at peace when asleep, serene even.
Engie walked over, stopping to grab the step stool on the way so upon reaching the shelf he place it down and reach Spy. Instead of picking him up – that seemed a rude way to wake him – Engie tapped his fingers on the wood next to him.
Spy woke with a jolt as he always did. His eyes darted back and forth before finding and resting on Engie. The tension in his face faded. “Bonjour.”
“It’s done.”
Spy raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”
“Yep. And it’s gonna work this time. Wanna do it now?”
“That’s what you said last time but yeah, sure. Let’s try it now. It’s not like I have anything else to do.”
Carefully, Engie picked him up by the base at his neck. A quick check confirmed that it was still filled with the medi-fluid keeping him alive. So even if there was some problem with the robot’s store of it or the system to feed into the device, there would be time to fix it before it became a real problem.
Back at his workbench the robot body lay supine, just waiting for the head. He carefully lowered Spy into position before pushing it in place and twisting it to lock the device in – good, he’d lined that up perfectly. And now all that remained to be seen was if Spy could control it. Engie pushed open the chest compartment, flipped the switch. Closing it, though not locking it yet, he stepped back.
The boot up took several minutes. It had to be that way, last attempt had booted up too fast, messing with the device, almost killing Spy in the process. They waited in silence. Last shot before things got complicated, this had to work.
Just when the tension seemed too much to hold the silence much longer, the boot up was done, the robot body on. Was it functional though? Could Spy move it without issue? Or would something else go wrong? It certainly wasn’t moving so perhaps something had gone wrong. Spy was trying to move it but it…
It moved. … He moved. Spy carefully sat himself upright, his legs dangling off the edge of the table. Looking down at them, he flexed his hands. His movements were slow and deliberate but steady, no jerks or spams of a machine struggling.
“I think it worked.” Spy’s voice was almost a whisper as he continued to stare his metallic hands has he rolled his wrists and moved each finger one by one.
“Yeehaw! Hot dawg! I did it!” He’d built a fully – hopefully – functioning robot body. Connected to a device that wasn’t even his own design and certainly wasn’t designed for this. That cemented him as being smarter than Medic. Which he’d already known but gosh dang it was good to have concrete evidence of that. “We gotta do some tests, make sure everything’s working as intended, but I really do think this is the one. I fucking did it. Not surprising, I knew I could. But the deadline was a bit of a challenge. Just a bit though, mind you.”
“Thank you.” The seriousness in Spy’s tone was enough to pull Engie down a bit from his elation. “Really, thank you. I know at least part of the reason you did this was just to see if you could but… thank you. I am forever in your debt, monsieur.” He slid off the table to his feet and actually bowed slightly.
His face growing a bit warm, Engie took a step back. “Uh… you’re welcome. I’m glad to help. So let’s get to those tests, huh? Make sure everything’s working before we celebrate too much.”
“Of course. Lead the way.”
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Hello! I really liked your spydad fics and I hope you write more, I like wholesome stories with spy
TF2 Drabbles: SpyDad - Good Job
Scout’s first proper painting ended up being a cartoony depiction of the Administrator making a goofy face as she got run over by a car. It wasn’t a good painting by any means, Scout’s unfamiliarity with the medium was evident but it was recognizable. Which was more than could’ve been said for Spy’s long ago first painting, barely even remembered at this point. Still he’d lent his expensive fancy paints to Scout only for this to be the end result; a bad painting that would probably get them both in trouble if the Administrator ever saw it. Maybe that should annoy him but well, it was Scout. His approach to art had always been different than Spy’s. That didn’t have make it bad.
He shifted to look at Scout, still wearing the painter’s apron that he’d made an even bigger mess on than it had had before. “I suppose I should count myself lucky you didn’t decide to depict me in an unflattering scenario this time.”
Scout shrugged. “I thought about it ‘cause it would’ve been funny but then uh… figured you wouldn’t appreciate the humor in that and might decide to not lend me you paint stuff anymore.”
“Hmm. You enjoyed it then?”
“It’s super different from pencils, coloured or normal, so it took a bit to get used to but uh, yeah, it was fun. It’s actually really nice not having to work so hard to get a solid colour, it just goes on like no big deal. How’d I do though? I know it looks awful but like, for my first time with a new art supply I think it’s pretty freaking decent.”
This is where Spy could crush Scout’s feelings of accomplishment if he were to apply his usual art standards to the piece but… he had no desire to do so. No, he wanted to encourage Scout’s artistic tendencies as he should’ve been around to do from the start. “I like it. You did a good job.” The words felt stiff and hollow in his mouth, he wasn’t used to giving much praise, but he did mean it. It wasn’t a good painting but he liked it anyway and the clear effort put into it made it a good job.
“Wait, really? Or are you just saying that to try to make me feel good or whatever before turning it into one your backhanded compliments?”
“No, I really do like it. It’s not my type of art but… I appreciate the effort you put into it. And for you first painting, it turned out rather well.”
“Um… okay then. Thanks. So I can uh, do this again sometime? Borrow your paints and stuff.”
“Yes, you may. Just ask first.” Though having stated interest in painting again, next time Spy got a chance, he’d buy Scout a set of paints for his own personal use. Probably he’d start with a slightly cheaper brand. “Also, before you head off, I advise against putting this painting anywhere the Administrator might see it.”
“No duh. I ain’t that stupid. Once it’s done drying I’m gonna… I don’t know, put it in my room I guess. And then it’ll stay there.”
“Very well. I was just making sure you didn’t do something stupid. Now let me teach you about the proper way to take care of your brushes.” He turned and started for the corner where he kept everything brush related.
Scout groaned but followed. “That sounds lame. How important is it really?”
“Extremely. Good brushes are expensive. Leaving them dirty for too long will ruin them.” Spy would also be getting him some cheaper brushes too. Still good ones but he wasn’t interested in letting Scout potentially ruin the best of the best, resulting in needing new ones.
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TF2 Drabbles: Pyro & Scout - Secrets
Summary: If you want to touch on this verse again, we've got a few sea monsters, maybe drag the team to a beach (at night, per Medic's insistence. Hope they checked the moon phase.). Some of the guys rope everyone into a game of volleyball.
[A/N/] The verse in question is the Monster AU one from chapter 61 where everyone is a monster except for Pyro.
~
Nighttime plus the gas mask’s goggles made seeing quite difficult. Pyro might as well be blind past a couple feet in front of him. Which sucked because he’d never seen a beach in person before. The day time would’ve been better but even if the tales of sunlight killing vampires were supposedly exaggerations, they apparently held a big enough grain of truth that Medic didn’t like to go anywhere uncovered during daylight hours. So outdoor team activities happened at night now, asking for different would’ve been unfair to Medic.
Pyro could come back to see the beach properly tomorrow. If he asked around, a couple of the others might even be willing to come with him. But they were here now and Pyro wanted to see it now. Plus Scout had already oohed and awed over his first time seeing a proper beach and ocean too before running off. Presumably into the water because everyone knew he was a sea monster now. Pyro hadn’t gotten to see him when that had been revealed but supposedly he got scaly and blue in the water.
And Spy apparently turned into an octopus thing in the water and was perhaps one now. Demo might be in his seal form for all Pyro could tell because he couldn’t see. Which would mean taking off his gas mask. Not something he was entirely comfortable with the thought of when everyone was so close.
But well, everyone else’s secrets were out. He didn’t have that kind of secret, only an odd anxiety about taking off the suit and mask in front of others. But if everyone was all right after their actual potentially dangerous secrets got out maybe he’d be okay if everyone saw his face too? He was just a guy after all, nothing special or unique when compared to everyone else. So maybe it would be fine. … Also, the alternative was to continue to stand here, unable to participate in any beach shenanigans the others might get up to until they decided to head back to base. Boring and lame.
First he took the gloves off, dropping them at his feet. Then, not letting himself hesitate, he reached up and undid the the gas mask’s seals, allowing him to wriggle it off his head.
Cool night air hit his face, bringing with it the smell of the sea. He took a deep breath of it, salty and oddly tangy, as he looked out over the ocean.
The water was dark and expanded off forever until it hit the distant horizon. Waves lapped at the shore, much louder without the gas mask’s muffling. Overhead was a million-billion stars and the moon, barely risen over the ocean, its light reflecting off the waves. It would be full next weekend which is why they’d had to come tonight lest they be moved again before the following weekend.
Even at night, thanks to light of the moon, the sea was indeed a sight to behold. Pyro would have to come back tomorrow to see more of it. Would it really be blue the way it was most often painted? What would that…
“Whoa Pyro, you took your mask off?”
Pyro snapped his gaze back down to see Scout had approached him. Still wet from his presumed dip in the ocean, he was indeed scaly. Wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks there were a lot of fishy scales to see too, including little fins that had apparently grown out of his arms. It was too dark to tell if his fingers and toes were webbed without getting up in his business but probably the were, right? He was indeed a sea monster.
Before the silence could get drag on to the point of awkwardness, Pyro shook himself mentally as he shifted his gaze to the back over to the ocean. “Yeah. Hard to see at night with it on.” And since he’d already taken that off… he carefully lowered it to the ground and unzipped the suit so he could began working his way out of it.
“Oh wow, okay,” Scout said. “So I guess this disproves a lot of the theories ‘bout what kind of monster or whatever you might be. So like… maybe just tell us now? If you want anyway. No need to if you’d rather not but I just thought that since you’re apparently comfortable enough to take the suit off near us now maybe you’d also be comfortable enough to...”
“I’m human,” Pyro interrupted as he finished freeing himself of the suit, letting it drop to the sand at his feet. Ooh, it felt damn good to take it off. The breeze was pleasantly cool and lovely. He rolled up his pajama sleeves to feel more of it.
“Uh…. I guess that’s a bit more believable now. I’m still going to splash you with water later to see if you’re activated by it like me and Spy are. Before that though, I’m rounding everyone up to play some volleyball, wanna join? The team numbers won’t be balanced but whatever team ends up with Engie is gonna have an advantage ‘cause of his robot strength and stuff anyway. If you’d rather stay over here outta the way though, that’s cool too. Just thought I’d invite you since that’s what I came over here to before finding you without the mask and stuff.”
It was tempting to stay here. Going over would mean everyone else would see him without the suit. But… Scout had seen and whatever Pyro’s anxiety thought would happen if anyone saw him without it on hadn’t happened. Probably everyone else seeing would be fine too, right? Plus, maybe he could finally get the lot of them to believe that he was fully human. The only one on the team despite everyone claiming to be so at the start, so it made sense they’d suspect him of lying about it too, but it was still annoying. So… “Sure. I’ve never played before though so…”
“Eh, that’s fine. I haven’t either. We’ll figure it.”
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TF2 Drabbles: Sniper/Demo - Always Fixed Eventually
Summary: How about some angst and give us a temporary blind Sniper? Maybe as a little Sniper/Engie or Sniper/Demo? Like, maybe respawn glitch and Sniper spawns blind till it can be fixed? Him being a panicked mess and his romantic partner helping him through it all?
~
Respawn glitched sometimes. Occasionally someone Respawned missing a finger or toe, often two or three. Sometimes instead it was extra fingers and/or toes; a problem mostly in that it made one’s shoes – or gloves in the colder places – uncomfortable. One time Scout had come back unable to speak or make any vocalization whatsoever. That had taken a week to fix but it had been been fixed because it was always fixed eventually. This would be too.
Sniper just had to be patient and deal with it in the meantime. Since sight was essential to his work it meant he got to get off until then too. While he liked his job he’d never been opposed to having extra time off. So this was… fine.
One hand on the wall to guide himself, he kept going down the hall. He’d been in the base more than enough to know his way to the kitchen and thus could get there by himself and make some coffee. He’d probably make a bit of a mess but that was fine. And they were gonna head to town later today to get him a cane which should make getting around easier – there hadn’t been time to yesterday as it had happened near the end of the battle and he’d spent the rest of the evening freaking out about it. He was fine now though, perfectly okay with this because he knew it was temporary, the shock had worn off. Lots of folk who’d been blind for their whole life or at least years made their way through the world just fine. He could handle it for a week or two.
Except… shouldn’t he have reached the turn by now? Had he somehow bypassed it? Or maybe in his just having woken up haze, he’d gotten confused and attached himself to the wrong wall or had gotten turned around somehow. Perhaps the turn was mere feet in front of him and he had no way of know because his eyes were gone.
Pawing at the wall with both hands now – as if it could somehow get away from him – he picked up his pace a little. He kept going like that until he ran into the door at the end of the hall. Which hall and which door? He ran his hands over it, trying to find out.
It wasn’t any of the doors that lead outside as it wasn’t locked, allowing him to turn the handle and pull it open. The familiar smell of artificial lemon and disinfectant hit his nose, burning it a little. He’d found the closest they kept the cleaning supplies in. Where that was in relation to his intended destination of the kitchen… he couldn’t recall. Thus figuring out where and how he’d got so turned around and more importantly how to get back on track was a hard ask.
He closed the door and stepped back. All he had to do was stick to one wall and he’d surely eventually wander into something that was familiar that could reorient him. Just keep going until then, he’d be fine.
~
He wasn’t fine. Nothing about this was fine. He was in the base somewhere and that’s all he knew. The walls all felt the same, the door to someone’s room was indistinguishable from the cleaning closest door until opened. Who’s rooms he found he had no way of knowing as he hadn’t dared call to whoever might be inside. Assuming said doors were even bedroom doors, there might be other such doors in the base that he’d forgotten about and thus he’d been in who even knew what room.
Probably no one else was in the base regardless, right? He often slept late. They had battle today so they’d all left without him, trusting him to figure it out on his own because he should be able to. He killed people for a living, was good at it, something as simple was losing his eyes shouldn’t be too huge of an issue. But it was.
Shaking he pressed his back to the wall before lowing himself to sit on the floor. Pulling his legs to his chest, he rested his forehead on his knees. He was tired. How long had he been wandering around lost for? Felt like hours. But without being able to check the time or see the sun who could say for sure? How long was it going to be before…
“There you are.”
Sniper snapped his head up to look in the direction Demo’s voice had come from.
“I’d’ve never expected you to be up so early.” Demo’s voice approached closer. His footsteps were silent, meaning he was in his socks, right? And thus hadn’t just come back from battle, wasn’t even ready for it yet.
“What time is it?”
“Just past eight am last I checked.”
Sniper had had trouble falling asleep last night. He’d gotten some sleep though and had thought upon waking up, he’d slept as much as he was going to, that it was time to get up. Apparently such hadn’t been the case though. It’s not like he’d had anyway to check though. He’d gotten out of bed at who even knew what time and wandered around lost for however long. No wonder he was so tired.
“You okay?”
“No.”
Demo sat down next to him, close enough that their shoulders brushed against each other. Which made it easy to shift and lean into him properly, Demo obliging by putting his arm around Sniper and holding him securely to his side.
“Where are we?” It had been a while since Sniper had last encountered anything that might give him any kind of clue on that.
“Hall leading to the cleaning closest.”
Damn. He’d probably been going around in circles, huh?
“Think I’m gonna stay and keep you company since you need someone to guide you ‘round ‘til we figure out how to get you one of them white canes.”
Demo staying with him sounded so, so good but… “The Admin won’t like that.” She’d be mad enough with just Sniper not being able to work.
“That dusty ol’ cunt can go fuck herself. Now, you wanna stand up and go somewhere or you wanna sit here for a bit longer?”
“Sit here a bit longer.” Just until he felt a bit more himself, even if he wasn’t likely to be all the way back to normal until his eyes got fixed. Until then though, it was so much better not being alone in the dark.
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TF2 Drabbles: The Bombinomicon & Merasmus & Soldier
Summary: Soldier inviting Merasmus to his and Zhanna's wedding? The sheer chaos and violence of how Solly does things in general plus their weird bitter exes-ish dynamic are fun.
~
“What is it?” the Bombinomicon asked for the third time since Merasmus had wondered into the library because he was still staring at the letter with that look on his face that said he was confused and unsure how to feel about it. Meaning it had to be something interesting. “Come on now, it’s unfair of you to bring that in here and not tell me what it is.” The only time the Bombinomicon got out was when Merasmus brought it out or when he cast a levitation spell on it, allowing it to float around for a few hours. So the tease of something interesting was just rude.
Finally though, Merasmus looked up. “It’s a wedding invitation.”
“Ooh!” Interesting indeed. “Whose?” They didn’t have many friends so it had to be a trap, right? More of Merasmus’ bad decisions surrounding borrowing money from certain organized crime syndicates coming back to haunt them. To be fair, the Bombinomicon hadn’t exactly discouraged him as much as it probably should’ve so it was partially to blame as well.
“Soldier’s. He’s marrying Zhanna.”
Oh so maybe not a trap after all, making it more exciting. “Haven’t they only been dating for like a year?”
Merasmus shrugged. “It’s Soldier. That’s probably a long time for him.”
“True, true.” Soldier being Soldier also explained the invitation, he was just weird like that. The Bombinomicon had always liked him. “We’re gonna go, right? I know he’s your ex and all but…”
“He’s not my ex, we never dated.”
“Hmm… whatever you say, ol’ pal.” It had looked an awful lot like dating to the Bombinomicon. Not that it had ever dated anyone or was even wanted to but as a book it knew a lot of stuff, including what dating looked like. Trashy romance was one of the genres it read the most after all, making it basically an expert on the subject. “We’re still gonna go, right?”
Merasmus sighed as he folded up the invitation and tossed it on the table. “I don’t know. What is one even supposed to wear to a wedding?”
“A suit. I think you’d look good in a suit. Put me in a bow tie. I’ve always wanted an excuse to dress up fancy.”
With another sigh, Merasmus walked over to stand in front of the Bombinomicon’s pedestal, looking down at it. “You really think I’d look good in a suit?”
“Yes.” Everyone looked good in a suit. “Or a nice dress if you’d prefer. And I think I’ll look good in a bow tie. And it’s Soldier so you know it’s not gonna be a normal wedding. Who knows what kind of chaos will go down during it? When’s the last time you got out and had some fun? Wait, don’t answer that, ‘cause I know that answer; the only time you go out for fun is around Halloween. Which means the only time I get to go out too is also around Halloween. So let’s go and have some fun at your ex’s wedding. Maybe he’ll even see how good you look in fancy clothes and realize what he missed out on, huh? Or he’ll see how happy you are single and get jealous! Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Merasmus didn’t respond, his brow still furrowed in heavy thought. At least he’d finally learned to think things through before jumping into them. It only took a few hundred years.
“And if things are boring, well, we got the tools to make it a real blast instead.” Bombs and explosions of all sorts could liven up any boring event. “So what do you say? Sounds fun, don’t it?”
A resigned sigh gave away Merasmus’ decision before he even spoke. “Fine. If you wanna go so bad, we can. I suppose it can’t hurt to get out more.”
“Yes! Finally some excitement. Make sure to find me a really nice bow tie. Pick whatever colour you think I’d look good in. I wanna look my best for my first ever wedding.”
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TF2 Drabbles: Soldier/Demo & Scout/Sniper - Cooking
Summary: Cooking bacon and eggs over a fire in a paper bag: which mercs are trying to learn how, which mercs are trying to teach them how (and probably arguing over proper technique), and does it turn into chaos before or after Soldier attempts it his own way?
~
“For the last bloody time, you’re not supposed to do it over an open flame,” Sniper said. “Wait for it to die down a bit then cook it over the hot coals.”
“If the fire dies though then it’s not gonna be hot enough to cook anything,” Scout replied, gesturing to the still burning flame.
“Still not how this works. An open fire would burn the bag and everything inside it. The coals will be plenty hot enough. Just wait.”
“I don’t wanna wait. I’m bored and hungry now.” Despite that Scout did settle down on the log beside Sniper again. He was a coward, not sticking to his guns even though this was the third time he’d tried to argue.
Soldier was bored and hungry not too. He wasn’t going to sit back and wait any longer no matter what Sniper said. Instead he stood and headed over to where Demo was about done setting up their tent. Soldier had volunteered to help but Demo had shooed him off rather quickly, telling him to go make food.
“Let’s cook with explosives,” he said as Demo looked up at him.
“What?”
“Let’s cook with explosives. They are arguing off and on about cooking eggs and bacon over an open flame or hot coals. I am tired of listening to it and tired of waiting. Explosives are hot so they should cook eggs and bacon instantly, right?”
Demo straightened and brushed himself off. “It’d certainly do something instantly, don’t know if ‘cook’ would be the right word for it. But uh… fuck it, let’s try it. I’m sober enough I could probably come up with something that might sorta work. And if it don’t, we’ll just go back and do the boring old fashioned way.”
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TF2 Drabbles: Pauling/Scout & Soldier/Zhanna - Double Date
Summary: Okay, one where Scout and Miss Pauling go on a double date with another pairing?
~
A double date had seemed like a good idea at the time but Soldier and Zhanna were well… themselves. Pauling should’ve gone in knowing the day would end with them burying bodies in the desert to hide the evidence. Far from the first time she’d had to do so but at least she had company this time.
“Being out in the desert at sunset is romantic, right?” Scout said as he set the shovel in the ground to look out towards the setting sun. “So it’s like were still on a date even if burying bodies fucking sucks.”
“Next time we’ll bring a picnic.” Because next time Pauling knew better what to expect.
“A picnic?” Zhanna asked, looking up from the hole she and Soldier were working on. It was bigger than Scout’s and Pauling’s, probably about done but she’d let them go for however long they wished, it’d keep them occupied. “I do not know this word.”
Before Pauling could explain it, Soldier cut in. “A picnic is one of the most American of meals, beat only by barbecue. It is when you put food and a blanket in a basket and take it outdoors. You lay the blanket out and put the food on top of it. If you’re lucky, animals will come and eat with you.”
“Ooh, what kinds of animals?”
“Dogs, cats, raccoons, anything around.”
“Bears if you doing it in the woods,” Scout added. “But you don’t wanna be joined by them.”
Zhanna nodded. “Because then they will view you as food too. I know bears.”
“So its decided then,” Soldier said, “next time we go burying bodies in the desert together we will also bring a picnic.”
“Maybe we could try to avoid the burying bodies part next time.” Because Pauling buried enough bodies for work reasons, she didn’t need to be doing it recreationally too. Especially with how little time off work she got to do stuff like this – it was better now that she’d taken over the Administrator's position but that added its own set of responsibilities. Other than that though, it was indeed a plan.
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TF2 Drabbles: Lieutenant Bites & Soldier - His Favorite
Summary: The raccoons' perspective of Soldier - does his behaviour make any more sense to them than it does to humans?
~
Father smelled of blood, death, and burnt dusty powder as he marched into the room, hardened feet thumping on the ground. He called as he shut the opening in the wall, making the sound that meant he’d brought food.
Bites scrambled out from under the raised nest to wait at his feet while he lowered the dish. As soon as it was down, she dug in. He always brought good food. As she ate, he lowered one of his big meaty paws to stroke her. Absolutely worthless as a grooming effort, he could and did sometimes do better, but it felt nice anyway so she tolerated it. He made more sounds at her, none of it that meant anything.
Food gone, she looked up at him. Sometimes he gave her more. … Not today though as he took away the dish and offered a forearm for her to climb up onto. She did so, scrambling up to his shoulders. Ride time. An opportunity for more food might present itself if she was fast enough.
Father marched out, reopening the wall, allowing them to leave. Not long later, they ran into another one of the tall ones. The tall one that often emitted foul smoke and always smelled of it. Bites sounded a warning at him as he stared at her. He made angry sounds but was just a bit too far away to jump at. Father responded with more angry sounds though. His sounds were louder.
The other one left, retreating without fighting as always. Bites still wanted to bite him. Maybe next time but probably not. Father always scared the smoker off without a physical battle. He was that big and strong. Being his favorite had advantages.
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TF2 'Drabbles': Lieutenant Bites - Dropped Cake
'Summary': Cake disaster - it's one of their birthdays and the cake gets dropped.
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TF2 'Drabbles': Spy & Sniper/Scout - Shovel Talk
Summary: maybe some speeding bullet + dadspy giving sniper a shovel talk??
[A/N] In the interest of helping me catch up a little bit faster on requests, I'm leaving this one as just a sketch.
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TF2 Drabbles: RED Medic/BLU Medic - Hard to Come By
Summary: If I may request again? How about Blu Medic x Red Medic: Blu Medic is introverted and shier than his counter part, but isn't afraid to kick his ass if he goes too far in some situations. So he does. I imagine that both teams have the day off from fighting, just relaxing and what not, then Red Medic is chasing the Scouts to get them back to the medbau. He was doing sketchy stuff again. Both Scouts bump into Blu Medic who was sitting down and trying to listen to music. When Red gets closer, Blu is pissed off and slams the wall twice before telling red to: 'Sit. The. Fuck. Down. NOW!' Red obeys immediately, the Blu stands over him glaring with a blank tired face: 'Go away and be quiet love, or else...'
[A/N] Only really followed the vibe of the prompt on this one but I'm a discovery writer so I rarely am able to follow through on specific plans for a piece.
~
Peace was of course hard to come by in their line of work. Even on days they had off from fighting robots, there was a lot to do and many of their number were naturally high energy, the job required such. Fritz wasn’t unreasonable on the front but… there were limits. Surely Ludwig could harass the Scouts about his idea to hollow out their bones to help them run faster literally anywhere other than the lab – yeah, they shared it but they weren’t supposed to work today so the two of them should’ve been the only ones here. And surely they could protest the idea a little less loudly or just consent to it, make it easier for everyone.
The shouting got louder and louder. Fritz’s gramophone struggled to be heard over it. Busy as he was, he didn’t bother to take it out often but today had seemed a good day for it… apparently not though.
“Fritz,” Ludwig shouted even louder, “come over here and help me convince them that this is a good idea. And that they should just let me do it because I decided to be nice and ask first.”
“That’s not being nice.” Jeremy was shouting louder now too. “And if you try to not ask first I’m gonna bash your fucking brains in. So how ‘bout instead, Fritz, you come over here and tell him to drop it and hurry up and get the damn flu shot bullshit done with already so we can leave.”
Fritz could continue to try to ignore them and hope they shut up soon. Or he could pack up his gramophone and book and just leave. Or he could indeed go over, not to do as either had requested but instead to take matters into his own hands. … The latter was his only real option if he wanted peace without dragging himself halfway across the desert.
So he slammed his book shut, stood and started over. The argument resumed before he got there. He didn’t bother trying to follow it because he did not care, the opposite in fact. Upon reaching them he slapped his opens palms down on the metal operating table they stood next to, hard as he could to make as loud a sound as he could. “Shut up.”
All three of them immediately obeyed, their full attention suddenly on him. “You two,” he pointed to the Scouts, “leave.”
“But…” Scooter started to protest but cutting himself off. “Fine. If I catch whatever Soldier has, I’m blaming you guys.” He turned and left with Jeremy on his heels, voicing his own thoughts on the matter that Fritz wasn’t listening to as he turned his attention solely onto Ludwig next.
Just the two of them, he switched to speaking German. “You can go away too, love, but if you stay, you’re gonna be quiet.”
“I’m sensing an ‘or else’ at the end of that.”
“Yeah, you are. Because those are your only two options. We agreed not to work today.”
“Fair point. I apologize. And so I will head off because I do need to make sure no one else catches whatever Soldier has.”
“Good. I will be here relaxing. See you later.” Given how easy that was, Fritz should really put his foot down more often.
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TF2 Drabbles: Pyro/Medic - I Think I Might be An Idiot
Summary: I know it’s a little overdone, but could I suggest a hanahaki fic with pyro/medic? Maybe pyro confesses just in time for some fluff and angst :)
~
Pyro being sick was unusual by itself. He was normally pretty hardy, even the flu that had swept through the team a couple months ago, binding several of them to their beds for almost a whole week, hadn’t shook him much. So when he’d come to Medic, complaining of a painful cough, Medic hadn’t worried, thinking it just a cold. He’d given Pyro some cough syrup before sending him on his way so he could prepare for when everyone else caught it and inevitably suffered worse.
Such hadn’t occurred though. No one else got sick and instead Pyro got worse and worse until he couldn’t even perform in battle anymore.
“I think you should move permanently into the infirmary where I can keep a better eye on you,” Medic said, ceasing his pacing as the coughing on the other side of the curtain around Pyro’s bed finally wheezed to a halt.
“Don’t wanna.” Even without the mask, Pyro’s voice was barely audible. It was strained as if he had trouble breathing.
Medic could force him and would be justified in doing so. But he’d never had to force Pyro do anything before. Usually he was the one who cooperated with Medic the most, even more than Heavy at times. But he’d caught whatever this was and then shortly after stopped letting Medic even see him without the suit and mask on, let alone anything else, like properly examine him to find out what was wrong.
“I must insist you finally let me examine you here, at least. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“I just need more cough syrup.”
Cough syrup had stopped doing anything helpful for him, if it ever had, weeks ago. Insisting he was fine was something Medic would’ve expected from like half the others on the team but never Pyro. Nothing was adding up and… it had been going on for a while now.
“You know if you’re sick for too long you’ll be removed you from Respawn so when you die of whatever the fuck this is, it’ll be permanent.”
“Miss Pauling wouldn’t do that.”
“She wouldn’t but the Administrator would and according to Miss Pauling, is planning to. She wants to replace you. Miss Pauling argued and got you another week in the system but that’s it.” It was far too short a time so if Pyro didn’t give in soon, Medic would force it, his trust be damned.
There was a long silence from Pyro while Medic resumed pacing. Being a private person, the room was small and had no window, making the space feel slightly claustrophobic. The familiar smell of blood filled it; Pyro could only be coughing it up though he wouldn’t let Medic see. When asked, he denied it and refused to answer entirely.
Finally, after another too long coughing fit, Pyro answered, his voice quiet and pleading. “I don’t wanna die.”
“I don’t want you to die either so let me fucking help.” Even if his main goal in pursuing medicine wasn’t to help people, it could still allow him do so when he felt the need to but only if he was also allowed to.
Another long pause before… “Okay. You can open the curtain.”
Before he could change his mind, Medic strode over and did so, throwing them open hard enough to make their stand rattle. Pyro sat on the bed, slightly propped up against some pillows, the blanket pulled up halfway to his chest. Surrounding him were blood spattered flower petals. In the trashcan next to him, there were even more.
“Ah! I’m familiar with this disease.” He’d always wanted to see it in person but being magical in nature, it was rare. Ooh, the temptation to study it was strong! But… it had already gone on so long and they had such a short time frame to get Pyro back on his feet… damn it. “Lucky for you, it’s actually got a fairly simple cure. All you got to do is...”
“I know,” Pyro interrupted. “Gotta tell someone I love them.”
“If you knew that why didn’t you?” Medic could just about slap him for letting him worry for so long.
“I don’t think he loves me back.”
“That doesn’t matter, it’s the telling that matters. Who is it, I’ll go get them.” It was certainly going to be awkward but better that than Pryo dead.
More hesitation, lasting long enough that Medic was taking a breath to ensure him, he wouldn’t judge so Pyro should just hurry up and say already, before finally he spoke. “You.”
“Oh.” That… certainly explained why Pyro had been avoiding him specifically.
“I love you.” As soon as the words were out his mouth, Pyro’s face scrunched up as he put a hand to his chest. He coughed one more time, bringing up a single petal that would be the last.
Damn, Medic should’ve brought him into the lab to get an x-ray on his chest before having him confess. He could’ve seen the flower and then watch it magically vanish. … Too late now. But also he had something else to worry about; Pyro’s confession. How did he feel about that? … Well, given he hadn’t asked Pyro to come to his lab so he could study his disease up close and personal but instead had remained focused on wanting him cured, he knew the answer to that.
He walked the rest of the way over to Pyro’s bedside. Bending down he gently took one of Pyro’s hands in both of his, lifting it for a light kiss on his knuckles. “I love you too.” Such words weren’t easy for him to say but he needed to make his reciprocation clear.
Now it was Pyro’s turn to respond with nothing but an, “Oh.”
“You should’ve just told me to begin with, would’ve saved us both a lot of trouble.”
“Yeah… probably. Sorry. I think I might be an idiot.”
“I don’t think I can argue with that. As long as you’re an alive idiot though, it’s fine.” And as long as he was Medic’s idiot too.
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TF2 Drabbles: Engie/Scout - New Year's Party
Summary: could i request engiescout 🥺 maybe the mercs are having a new years party and scout is bummed out that hes going into new years away from his ma and fam and engie helps to cheer him up :3
[A/N] Happy New Year's! Here's to hoping 2024 treats us well.
~
New Year’s wasn’t a holiday that Scout had ever given much weight to before. So soon after Christmas, one of the biggest holidays, it was had to think of it as important. Thus he hadn’t complained about the order to return to base before it instead of after it as they’d done in previous years. Celebrating it with the team had seemed like a perfectly fine substitute at the time. Now that he was here though, it didn’t feel like a good substitute at all.
Normally New Years was the last day he got to spend with Ma and the rest of his family before heading back to work until he could see them again on Thanksgiving. So instead of drinking, he always went around to make sure he chatted with everyone at least a little bit or pulled a prank here or there when an opportunity presented itself for people to remember him by. Technically he could still do that but he was gonna see these guys basically every day until Thanksgiving instead. Which was great, hanging out and working with these fools were a large part of why he loved his job. But he liked hanging out with his family too. He didn’t get a choice though so he just had to suck it up.
Unfortunately having thought so hard about it that he’d figured out why he felt more down than he usually did during team parties didn’t help him feel any better. If anything it made him feel worse because now he was actively aware of missing his family instead of just vaguely dissatisfied. Ugh, this is why he usually ran from his emotions instead of trying to understand them.
Maybe he should just drink himself stupid until he forgot about it. Demo had spiked the punch with some pretty heavy alcohol so it wouldn’t be hard. He’d miss the stroke of midnight but did it even matter? Yeah, it was the point of the holiday and all but…
“Hey bud.”
He flinched a little, his gaze snapping up. So wrapped up in his thoughts he hadn’t noticed Engie approaching. As always he looked odd without his hardhat and goggles, rare was the days he didn’t wear them. Scout had somehow convinced him into completely taking off working on stuff for the rest of today to attend the team New Year’s party instead so he’d taken them off.
Scout quickly shook off his surprise, hopefully before Engie noticed it. “Hey pal.”
“You doing all right?”
“What? Why wouldn’t I be?”
��Don’t know but you’re sitting over here by yourself and that ain’t like you so I figured maybe something was wrong.”
“So you decided to come over here and make sure I’m okay or something?”
“Yep.”
If it were anyone else Scout would’ve brushed them off. But Engie had always been the least judgmental person on the team. Also the least likely to spread personal stuff. Which wasn’t to say he was judgment free or never spread anything, but when it came to stuff told directly to him in confidence, he was good about keeping to himself and not being outwardly harsh about whatever he thought of it. And so Scout had always liked talking to him, sometimes it even made him feel better.
“I’m just a bit homesick. Which like yeah, yeah, I know we were just allowed to go home for Christmas but normally we don’t gotta come back until tomorrow. So normally I’m at the New Year’s party my Ma hosts with however many of my brothers, their spouses and kids stick around for it. It’s like weird to be here instead, you know?”
“Hmm… can’t say I really know but I understand the sentiment, I think. You didn’t get to spend as much time with your folks as you usually do and didn’t get to give them the kinda goodbye you usually do either. So makes sense your feeling a bit off. Now, I ain’t really sure how to help with that kinda thing but uh… you want company? Maybe we could play some cards or something.”
Before he’d come over Scout wouldn’t have thought company would be enjoyable. Now that he was here though and offering to help even though admitting he wasn’t sure how to, it seemed the exact perfect thing. So… “Yeah, sure, company sounds great. Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
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