#and that called engie attention and he just got a bit closer to know about demo you know like | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

doopy-n-loopy · 4 years ago

Note

Ima just say if you ever start taking in commission you best believe Ima be your first customer! Alrigjt hear me out what if S/o like a different merc. A example would be like Yandere sniper likes s/o but s/o likes scout.

Awwww thank chu ❤️ but Oooooo that's gonna cause some HUGE issues with the yanderes 😳

Yan!TF2 Mercs × Reader

// obsessive tendancies, blood, violence

Defense

Demo

Demo sees you flirting with another merc

His jaw is wide open in utter shock

He takes a moment to process it

He realizes that you like him and he's not happy

He grumbles and goes to get drunk to try and forget about it but he can't

The thing is, if they weren't a merc he'd get rid of them easily

However, he works with them, which makes it harder

So instead he finds out what you like and tries to impress you

He also tries to lure you away from him

Heavy

Heavy is not impressed

I mean, how could you like that guy?

Heavy scoffs to himself knowing damn well he's much better than them

Heavy is like Demo, they don't really show it and decide to read to take their mind off of it (but can't)

So heavy figures out what impresses you and gets you those things

Also he tries to block your view from that person using his body so he can have you to himself

Engi

Angry texan mumbling.mp3

He'll go to his shop to build things to forget about it (to no avail)

He then gets the idea to build you things to impress you

He also offers to take you out to dinner

Whenever you're paying attention to the other merc, he'll have his robot make a loud noise just to divert your attention to him

Offense

Scout

Unlike the previous mercs, he lets you know he has a problem

"What's so special about that (insert specific insult used towards them in-game)?"

He then pulls you away and continues to talk shit about him

He then brings you to KFC or something to get a bucket of chicken

Starts flexing his non existent muscles at you

"Why chase after that loser when you have a hunk like me at your side, baby?"

Pyro

Angry pyro mumbling

They'll pull you away like Scout

Pyro will smother you in hugs

You can't fight back because Pyro is too damn strong

Pyro will decorate you in bones and guts, thinking you look pretty in it

If Pyro ever sees the merc, they'll flash their flamethrower at them to scare them

(honestly I think Pyro is aware of how scared they make everyone else)

Soldier

Is THE LOUDEST ONE

"Hah! I bet this maggot can't even bench press 400lbs with two eagles on each weight!" Like shut up you can't either

He will also drag you away, except he threw you over his shoulder

He will be screaming about how bad the other merc is and how amazing he is

On the battlefield, if you're near the merc you like, he'll grab you and rocket jump away with you

Support

Sniper

He turns away immediately after seeing you flirt

He goes to polish his gun, read, nap, anything to make him feel better

But he's tired of it

He first threatens the merc who you were flirting with

"Back off of y/n you lil bugger, if ya know what's good for ya"

If they don't or hell even worse, choose to try and make him jealous, sniper has no qualms against getting rid of them

They'll make it look like they were killed by the enemy sniper or they'll just disappear, with their body found hacked to death in a ditch days later

Either way he'll take your grief over their death to his advantage to get closer to you

"oh I'm sorry y/n, he was a good lad. Why don't you come to my camper so I can cheer ya up, eh?"

Spy

Spy knows he's the shit so he isn't too afraid of you keeping that ceush for long

At first he'll get you gifts and other things of the sorts to impress you

Then he'll threaten the merc you flirted with

"back off, or else"

His threats are vague but they get the point across

He understands how important each team member is but if he needs to get rid of them, he won't hesistate

They will never find the body

He'll manipulate you and use your grief to his advantage like sniper

Medic

He's probably the most deadly one

When medic saw you flirting with another merc, he used all of his energy to conceal his rage

Instead, he pulled you into his clinic, saying that you needed to have a check up

His grip on your arm was painfully tight

He uses the fact that he's a doctor to his advantage, he'll usually pull you away from them to give you check ups and on the battlefield he'll call your name for assistance

The merc better pray that medic emds them quickly, otherwise their death will be slow and painful

Medic doesn't care if he has to kill the entire team for you because this deranged man WILL do it

He'll make it look like an accident or get rid of them entirely, making it to where nobody can find his body... Not in one peice, anyways

By that I mean he'll purposefully botch a surgery to kill them or murder them and store their body parts somewhere

He's just scary as fuck

And a bonus cause I wanted to: Pauling

She doesn't see you a lot but qhen she does, she's always nice to you

However, she got a bit of an attitude after hearing you flirt with another merc

"you do realize that it's against company policy to have a relationship with a co-worker, right?"

She'll dispose of them carefully, either putting them on a mission that will for sure kill them or finding an excuse to kill them herself

She'll be a little more careful if they're someone that's hard to replace like spy or medic but she'll make sure that everything goes smoothly.

When you're greiving, she'll actually feel some guilt for her actions

However she believes what she did was necessary and won't hesitate to do it again

"I'm sorry for what happened y/n... At least you still have me"

She says in a sweet voice with a sinister undertone

Anyways I'm sorry for taking so long and sorry that these are so short, my inspiration was running low lol. I hope you liked these! Feel free to request anything again!❤️

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hankwritten · 3 years ago

Text

And She Dresses Like a Scoundrel

Engineer/Spy, 2k

Part of the DontNeedADiscord Pride Week, Day 4: Fashion

“Thank you, Engineer,” I said gratefully, accepting back the once again functional disguise kit.

“No problem, partner,” he replied, gracious as ever. “Must have been a hard three days without it.”

“Indeed.” I sighed, recalling how many sentries had gotten the better of me with a grimace. “To think, less than a year ago I was relying entirely on my own skills of camouflage to create my disguise. I would even do it for fun! But here I am, ten months working for BLU and I’ve become completely dependent on their technology.” Another sigh, this time more beleaguered. “Truly, I have let myself slip.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Spy,” he said, consoling.

I raised my hand. “No need to be patronizing, my friend. I know the writing on the wall.” I waved, preparing to exit his workshop. “Thank you again for the repair, Engineer.”

But as I was halfway to the door, Engie blurted, “why don’t you?”

“Come again?” I asked, turning around.

“Why don’t you make your own disguises anymore?” he repeated, seemingly genuinely confused.

“As I said, I haven’t needed to,” I shrugged. “And thus, my skills have lapsed.”

“But if it was for fun, why’d you stop?”

At that I paused. It had been fun, one of my greatest prides was coming up with a new face and a new identity to fit any particular occasion. There was no greater joy than reintroducing yourself to someone under a new guise and seeing them have no idea.

“…I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “Probably because, despite my enjoyment, I associated the activity exclusively with work.”

That satisfied his curiosity, though it did make him rather dour. “Makes sense.” He thought for a moment. “But you could always pick it back up again?”

“I’d be horridly out of practice,” I waved off.

“So? We all gotta start somewhere.”

I tilted my head. “Why does this interest you so?”

He pushed up his goggles, chewing on some thought until it left a peculiar look about his face. “Just seems a shame,” he said eventually, “All that talent going to waste. You seem mighty busy all the time, never see you do anything just because you enjoy it.”

I pressed my lips together. There was a certain truth to that, and I wondered internally if I was being resistant for no reason. “...Hm. I... suppose you are right. Even if I do have access to a near flawless disguise kit, there’s no reason to set it aside entirely.”

“There you go! You sound gung-ho already.”

I didn’t, but he was familiar with my habit of faint praise to cover up genuine enthusiasm. “I appreciate the suggestion,” I told him honestly. “…Maybe when you see me next, you won’t even know it is I.”

Engie grinned, and it was charming how vicious he looked when he was trying to be encouraging. “Looking forward to it.”

Of my old wigs, only the black one with its loose curls had managed to survive its year in storage. Even still, there was frizz on a good portion of it, and after a half hour of teasing I gave up and began tearing apart the rest of my wardrobe for something to lesson its imperfections. What I found was a scarf, red and silken, and decided it would have to do.

A full-length buttoned coat, and pair of striped legs. Yes, these would be serviceable.

But first, makeup . I remembered that much at least, though I failed to recall the first rule of application: always begin with the eyes. The result was that I was left with a perfect pair of heart lips and a disgusting smudge across my sockets, the latter of which I had no interest in starting over on. Instead, I retrieved a pair of sunglasses from my trunk. I deserved to cut a few corners after so long, and anyone who said differently could try their makeup after a year without practice and see if they could do better.

When I was done, a perfectly lovely woman stared back at me. The stare turned into a frown. A perfectly lovely woman a year out of fashion. What was I wearing? Leggings? Good god, those were on the way out last fall.

I began to examine myself in the mirror, cursing myself for ever becoming so woefully outdated. I’d had my finger in the crease of Dapper Cadaver without pause for the past hundred issues, but I hadn’t even bothered to pick up a single magazine on women’s fashion? Disgraceful. Something would have to be done about this.

By the time I made it down to breakfast, someone had already made the first pot of the morning. I filled a mug and sat down.

Medic didn’t so much as blink. He lifted his eyes, greeting, “Guten Morgen, Herr Spy,” and returned to his medical notes. By the spots of blood, they were likely fresh.

Soldier was another story. “By God! You finally did it, Nurse,” he said, gripping the back of Medic’s chair and shaking him slightly. “You turned Spy into a woman!”

“I did not,” Medic said, peeling one of Soldier’s hands off his shoulder. He then considered for a moment, and addressed me, “unless this is your way of making a statement?”

“Non,” I shook my head. “Not entirely, at least. Soldier is right, but this is not permanent: I simply wished to get back into a more…flexible mode of presentation.” I paused for a second. “What did he mean by ‘finally’?”

“Are you implying I have been working secretly in my lab for the past two years on some sort of sex-change ray that would be sure to result in wacky hijinxs should it ever be completed?” Medic sipped his coffee. “Because I’m not and that is ridiculous.”

“…I see.”

If Soldier’s reaction was passionate, Engineer’s was somehow even more so. Before he even fully entered the kitchen, he stopped dead, his eyes locked on me. A few times he tried to speak, failed, and settled for scratching the back of his neck.

“Seems like you took my advice on the whole disguise work,” he said eventually. Now he had trouble looking at me altogether, a deep blush forming along his cheeks.

“I did,” I smirked, amused at his state. “Though unfortunately I’ve found my current wardrobe is not what I’d like it to be. I was hoping to use today’s ceasefire to do some shopping.”

“You want some company?” he asked, then immediately got flustered again. “Just uh…cause I know you don’t like taking your car though all the dust ‘less you absolutely have to, and nearest city with a shopping mall is pretty far…”

“Ah, so you are offering to drive,” I mused. “And here I thought you believed I suddenly needed assistance carrying my bags.”

Medic snorted, though when Engie shot him a glare he showed no indication he’d even been listening.

“…I can give you a lift, sure,” the Engineer affirmed slowly, still frowning offendedly in Medic’s direction.

“That is unacceptable!” Soldier chimed, brining his fist down on the table and making the silverware tinkle. “You two are not yet married! You think you can just go on a trip into town while unchaperoned? It is indecent!”

Engie sputtered, losing the bit of coffee he’d had the misfortune of drinking. “Soldier! What hell are you talking about?” he sputtered. “That ain’t- it’s still just Spy.”

“Exactly,” Soldier agreed. “That is why the two of you cannot be left alone together. Do not worry! I volunteer to accompany you on this shopping trip.”

Medic was laughing, having a much more difficult time hiding it now.

I grinned placidly. “You heard the man, Engineer,” I said. “It would go against decency to be about without a chaperone.”

“Fine,” he said, pulling his helmet further over his eyes. “Guess I’ll make the truck up for three.”

As much as I wanted to see if he would pop like a balloon if any more blood went to his face, I decided he’d had enough for the morning. I kept our conversation within acceptable subjects on the way up, and refrained from commenting on his new collection of odd mannerisms. It was quite adorable actually, especially when Soldier would lean out of the back seat every now and then to remind him ‘no funny business’.

When arriving at the glorious superplex that was the Santa Fe outdoor mall, the first thing on my agenda was a new jacket. The one extracted from the bowels of my old wardrobe was such a drab mauve, and with some help from the assistant at Loveman’s, I was able to find a few acceptable pantsuits. One could only expect “acceptable” when shopping chic in a department store—and a department store in America no less—but hopefully the rivers of fashion had trickled down enough that I wouldn’t embarrass myself too badly. The white plaid one was even quite fetching.

Next were hats.

“Engineer! Spy!” Soldier arrested our attention with. “I have located something I would like to purchase.”

He was wearing a newsboy hat over the top of his helmet.

“You needn’t ask us for permission,” I told him. “You have your own funds.”

He straightened like he honestly hadn’t thought of that. “Okay!” Then he was off again, sorting through the seemingly never-ending headwear.

“Some chaperone,” Engie remarked as he disappeared.

“I’m sure we can be trusted alone for but a few minutes,” I said, turning with a blue cloche hat in place. “What do you think of this one?”

“As pretty as the last. I mean-” He coughed. “Looks just fine.”

I smiled. “Here I thought you’d had enough teasing, but it seems you’re doing all the work for me.”

“Dang it Spy, I just meant-” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You know what, let’s just head to the jewelry.”

I shook my head. “Unfortunately jewelry is too much of a hazard. Rings and bracelets make removing gloves difficult, and necklaces are extremely useful for strangling your target from behind.”

“Terrifying that you put it like that, but remember you ain’t doing this for the job,” he prompted. “This is you getting a chance to try something different. D’ya want to wear a necklace?”

As he said it, he moved closer to the jewelry counter. I followed him, peering through the glass at all the trinkets I usually dismissed when assembling a woman’s portfolio. They were lovely…

“Mademoiselle,” I called to the woman behind the counter. “Might I be able to try this on?”

Engie whistled. “Nice choice.”

“I happen to have exquisite taste in jewelry,” I told him, gazing at my reflection in the glass as it wore the blue teardrop pendant I had picked out. “Both when selecting for a lover, or for myself.”

The attendant gave me an odd look, but it was worth it to see Engineer chuckle in a way that no longer uncomfortable.

“I have located another!” Soldier informed us as we took our bag. This time he was wearing a Viking helmet. From where he had obtained it, I had no idea.

“Then finish up paying,” Engie said. “We’re heading out soon.”

“Not so fast, Engineer,” I stopped him as he’d taken a step toward the door. “We still have not gotten anything for you.”

“Me?” he balked, craning his neck around like he was suddenly intimidated by the voluptuous mannequins surrounding us. “I don’t need nothin’…”

“And why not?” I asked. “We have dedicated the whole morning to me, and Soldier is finding ways to entertain himself, why shouldn’t you acquire something nice?”

“I…”

“Please, my friend,” I said. “My treat.”

“…Alright,” he sighed. “Sorry Sol, looks like-”

Soldier had acquired a bowler hat, which he wore on top of his Viking helm.

“-Well okay then.”

The Engineer provided an interesting challenge. The first thing I noticed was that everything in his size was far too long for him, and it made me question how he’d even found fitting clothes in the first place when everything in the store simply wanted to fall off him in tubes. He explained that he usually had to hem up his pants after buying them. I thought that was adorable, to which he muttered a string of ‘aw shucks’.

In a montage where Engie grew more flustered by the minute, I managed to get him into a delightful pair of corduroy pants with a mustard button down, an orange sweater with matching slacks, and a simple floral print button down that might go under his overalls. However, my absolute favorite was-

“Well now you’re just being rude,” he said, holding up the jacket.

“Howdy partner,” I mimicked. “Why don’t we just give up?”

“I don’t sound like that,” he complained. “And I definitely don’t wear things like this.”

The cowboy leathers were the sort of pink you saw from a mile away, genuine cow hide wasted on the monstrosity in his hands. There were more tassels than a man could ever want, and they went wonderfully with the white chaps and matching white Stetson.

“This is an eyesore,” he said.

“So are your regular clothes,” I reflected. “Please, I only ask that you try them on.”

He grumbled, and stepped into the changing room. That was good. I’d hate to have to bring out the, ‘for me?’.

“It’s certainly…something,” I said six minutes later.

“A trainwreck,” Engie said.

“You’re smiling,” I pointed out.

He grinned a little wider. He turned in a circle, the hundreds of tassels swishing around him, and then for good measure did a little two-step. I couldn’t help but chuckle with a hand over my mouth.

A shopper with a mustache passed by and gave us a strange look, and for some reason I started laughing harder.

“What’s got you so tickled?” Engie inquired.

“Nothing,” I waved off with a smile. “I was just thinking: after the thirty-five times the two of use have appeared in public together, this the first that you’re the queer one.”

He paused for a moment, looking down at himself. “Heh, I guess so.” Then he started to laugh. “…So. You been counting the number of times we’ve gone out together?”

“Is it so odd that I enjoy your company?

“No but…” he studied me for a moment. “Would you like to do this again some time? Assuming we can ditch the chaperone.”

“Mr. Conagher, how scandalous!” I said with mock horror. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He gave me one of those charming smiles again, and my heart fluttered ever so slightly.

Soldier greeted us on the way out, hat boxes stacked so high we couldn’t see his face anymore. “Operation successful! Move out troops!”

“Soldier,” Engie asked as he began securing boxes in the back of his pickup so there wouldn’t be a colossal hat pileup on the highway, “how long until you stop following my ‘n Spy around?”

“I do not know. Spy! How long are you going to be a women?”

I adjusted my new hat in the side mirror. “Until I feel otherwise.”

“Well then there you go!” Soldier declared. “It is perfectly acceptable for two unmarried men to be alone together, so you may resume making moon eyes at each other then.”

That, for once, got us both to flush.

#dnadprideweek2021 #engiespy #tf2 fanfiction

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tf2-hellhole · 4 years ago

Note

Can i get some hcs of an s/o kissing the mercs scars and just an really emotional moment overall🥺

I’m sorry this is so so long, I got carried away and I still have like seven requests to finish up-

Ok so I only wrote the characters who canonically have scars and those who I head canon have scars.

Note: Scout’s head canon is kind of based on another I read somewhere, and I kinda accepted it as a headcanon for Scout because I think it makes sense. I just thought it’d be important to establish.

Warning: Self-harm, trauma

Scout:

Growing up was really hard for Scout. He was always really small and was often bullied and beaten by his classmates, and some of his brothers weren’t too nice to him either. He also didn’t receive a lot of attention from his mother. Like I said in the past, his mother wasn’t bad by any means, but it was hard to give all of her boys the attention they needed and hold down multiple jobs to support them all. But even then, sometimes there wasn’t enough food and the table and they would all still be hungry when they went to bed.

All of these things culminated in Scout having an extremely stressful childhood. School was a nightmare for him and he dropped out as soon as he could. The stress, insults, and abuse he received regularly had a horrible effect on his mental health that led to him often harming himself to feel better. The way he would do this is often hiding and harshly biting his hands when he got really stressed. He started bandaging his hands to hide them from his family, and he was careful enough that they didn’t realize what he was doing to himself. He stopped after he became a merc and built a healthy friendship with some of the other mercs, but he doesn’t want anyone to ever find out what he did to himself.

But one day, Scout had just come out of the shower and was already dressed, and he was sitting on his bed, wrapping his hands. His head shot up when his S/O called from outside and started opening the door. He called out, “Wait, babe, I-“ but it was too late. His S/O’s eyes were on his hands, following the lines of the short, pale scars dotting his fingers and palms.

He turned to hide his face and hands from them, but they hurried over to sit next to him and put a hand on his back. He didn’t look up at them; he couldn’t work up the courage to. He was horrified and panicking. He wanted to get up and run away, but he couldn’t move. What were they going to think of him now? Were they going to think he’s weak? Were they going to tease him too? Were they going t-

He almost gasped when they took his hand in theirs. They looked at his hand closely, making sure there were no new red marks, and sighed shakily when they found none. Scout’s head snapped up when his S/O lifted his hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. They looked up at him and were surprised to find him on the verge of crying; His face was bright red and tears were welling up in his eyes. “Babe…” his S/O started, “I’m not gonna make you talk about this if you don’t want to, but I’m just letting you know that you don’t have to hide your past from me. I love you, and I’m here for you.”

In response, Scout’s face scrunched up and the tears finally spilled down his face and he yanked his S/O into a hug and cried into their shoulder. Scout absolutely fell apart, and to comfort him his S/O ordered some food and spent the rest of the day cuddling him and kissing his fingers and the back of his palms. He was so grateful to have them there and he’s so happy that he can talk to them when he needs to, even though emotionally he’s not ready for that. Just knowing that he can pull them close without the expectation of opening up yet makes him feel so much better.

Pyro:

(I tried to describe Pyro’s appearance or gender as little as possible so the reader can imagine them however they want, so sorry if this is a little short or vague).

No one knows about Pyro’s background, not even their closest friend Engie or their S/O. Because of this, no one knows who they are or where they’re from. Because of this, they can’t even guess anything about Pyro’s appearance, not even their gender. Pyro really doesn’t want to ever show their face, but after a few years with their S/O, they finally worked up the courage to show them. They pulled their S/O into their shared bedroom and sat them down. They sighed softly before reaching up to pull the mask off of their face.

Their S/O took in the features of Pyro’s face. Their hair, their nose, their gorgeous eyes… but then their eyes settled on the scarred skin on their cheek, chin, and nose. They were burn scars.

For a few moments, Pyro’s S/O could only stare and take in the scars. Pyro whimpered and softly called their name. Why were they staring? They think their scars are ugly, don’t they?

Their S/O quickly snapped back to reality when they realized they were making Pyro feel self-conscious. “No, Pyro, I…” they couldn’t continue. They reached out and pulled Pyro close to show them they weren’t disgusted by their appearance. They quickly pulled back and pressed a kiss to their cheek. It took Pyro a few seconds to process the affection, but once they did, they threw their arms around their S/O’s neck and began bawling into their shoulder. Their S/O pulled them as close as they could and pressed more kisses to Pyro’s face.

They spent the rest of the night cuddled together and watching cartoons on the couch. Their S/O made sure to press a kiss to their skin at least every few minutes, which always made Pyro giggle softly and sniffle.

It took a little while longer for Pyro to work up the courage to take off their suit, though. Even though they knew their S/O couldn’t care less about what their body looked like, they couldn’t help but be a little nervous about showing the scars that covered their arm and parts of their back and stomach. They pulled off the suit so they were only in a t-shirt and shorts and looked up at their S/O. They smiled weakly and reached out for them, and their S/O giggled and pulled them into a gentle hug. This time it really wasn’t a big deal, but it was still a very loving and intimate moment for them.

Pyro never explains to their S/O where the burns came from, but his S/O never pushes for them to share and it never causes any tension between them.

Demo:

Demo can be really, really self-conscious about himself because of the constant beratement he receives from his mother and the BLUs. Hearing over and over that he’s not good enough made him feel horrible about himself, which is most of the reason he started drinking. But one of the things he’s most self-conscious about is his missing eye. Other people often make fun of him for only having one, and his mother always tells him that he needs to lose the other. It makes him feel a little torn sometimes because he really wishes he had two eyes but his mother’s made it almost a taboo in his mind to have either of them.

Because of all the abuse he’s received over it, he refuses to talk about it with his S/O or show him what’s under the eye patch. He never takes it off unless they go to bed, and even then he always makes sure the left half of his face is on the pillow so his S/O still can’t see and won’t move until the lights are off. This goes on for several months, and it worries his S/O because they want him to trust them.

His S/O eventually gets to see his eye, but it’s completely by accident. They walk into the bedroom to clean some things up but find Demo passed out on the bed from drinking. He was laying on his back and was facing up, and his eyepatch was tossed aside. His S/O turned to continue cleaning, but their curiosity got the best of them and they turned back to lean over his face.

It was true, what he’d reluctantly told them about his eye in the past; there really was no eyeball. His eyelid was slightly open, showing that there was nothing inside, just a small empty space. His S/O couldn’t help but laugh. This is what all the fuss was about? It was certainly strange, but Demo had acted like they would dump him in disgust if they saw.

They almost jumped when Demo opened his eye and looked up at them, obviously groggy from the hangover. After taking a second to process, his eye went wide. He quickly sat up and clapped a hand over his eye socket to hide it from them, then hissed at the sharp pain from his sudden headache. He angrily questions why they were looking while he picked up and put on his eyepatch. His S/O apologized and reached out to touch his shoulder, but he pushed their hand away. “I don’t need your pity… I know what you think about it!” he hissed.

His S/O sat down next to him and exclaimed that they weren’t pitying him. They apologized, saying that they should’ve respected the fact that he wanted to hide his missing eye from them, but they aren’t grossed out by it at all. Demo shook his head and spoke, his voice breaking, “I don’t believe you.”

His S/O sighed and put a hand to his face to pull him closer, and pressed a soft kiss just below his eyebrow, then another to his lips. “I wish I could prove it to you,” they said softly. When they pulled away, Demo stared at them in surprise. He practically broke when he saw the sincerity and the hurt in his S/O’s eyes as they stared back at him. He pulled them close and pressed another soft kiss to their lips.

After this, he becomes comfortable with the idea of not wearing his eyepatch when they’re in private. It’s also a bit of a confidence boost for him. Kissing just below the eyebrow becomes a greeting for the two of them.

Sniper:

Sniper isn’t really self-conscious about the scar on his face; he thinks it looks badass. He will never mention the fact that he got it in a fight with a Spy that he lost.

It’s the scars on his torso and arms that he’s really self-conscious about. They’re closely tied to such a traumatic part of his life. They remind him of the feeling of quickly drifting away while he bled to death in New Zealand, the shock of losing the only people he had, his parents. Then there’s the additional shock of learning he was actually adopted then learning that his birth parents didn’t care about him at all. He’s reminded of all the pain and emotion he felt during that time in his life when he looks at the bumpy scars across his chest, to the point sometimes he feels a little sick when he looks down at them.

One night, he and his S/O were in his camper trying to fall sleep. It was ridiculously hot outside, so they had a small fan going inside, and his S/O was only in their undergarments. He was only wearing his boxers and a loose t-shirt. His S/O shifted to look at him and scowled when they saw how sweaty his shirt was. “Babe, aren’t you hot? Take your shirt off.” Sniper declined, saying that he was perfectly comfortable, and they jokingly told him that the smell of his sweat was absolutely disgusting and he needed to take the shirt off so they didn’t have to smell that the whole night (in reality, they just wanted to see him with his shirt off).

He awkwardly reminded them of the time he died and his S/O responded, “Oh… is it the scars? I’m sorry, Mick. I wish I could make you feel better about that. If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

Mick frowned for a second, but then he sat up and pulled his shirt off and laid back down, and stared at his S/O, who was starting back in surprise. He took their hands and asked them if he really could tell them about what he was feeling, and they nodded. He had realized that bottling everything up could ruin his relationship with his S/O, and he can’t be alone. Not again. He can’t hide from this.

It was finally cooling down, so his S/O cuddled close to him and pressed kisses to where the scars stretched across his collarbones. Sniper was already emotional, but feeling his S/O’s arms around him and their lips lightly brush across the thing he hated most about himself made tears slip down his cheeks. Once they finished and buried their head in his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around them and kissed their forehead and temple. He cried softly until he fell asleep.

The next morning also mostly consisted of Sniper and his S/O cuddling and kissing each other, though it was much less emotional and more just content affection. After that, Sniper was much more comfortable with himself now that he had unloaded the weight from his shoulders. Of course, that didn’t fix everything completely, but it was certainly a step in the right direction.

Spy:

Spy, like I said, has scars that he hates more than anything. They’re thin, pale scars across his nose and left cheek, and down that side of his neck. He got them when he was young and had just started working as an assassin. At the time, he was bold, confident, and very, very reckless. He would never admit it now, but his confidence often made him extremely sloppy in his performance. One day, he was stuck in a melee fight with a very skilled nemesis. His lackluster performance got him pinned to the ground underneath them as they beat him until he almost passed out. The enemy was particularly sadistic, so they decided to ruin the handsome face that Spy was so proud of. They started with many light cuts to hurt him as much as possible. They were about to try to tear his cheek when Spy managed to grab their knife and use it to kill them.

Even though they were very light cuts and healed nicely, Spy was still extremely self-conscious about his face and believed it was ruined forever. That’s one of the reasons he began to hide his face, though the main reason was to hide his identity. So he vowed he would never show it to his beloved S/O in fear that they would leave him and he would never find someone that would accept someone like him.

One night, Spy found himself standing in front of the mirror with his mask off. He put his hands on the sides of the sink and leaned forward to stare sadly at his face. He had high, sharp cheekbones, bright blue eyes, and beautiful, thick brown hair that greyed slightly at his sideburns. He really was a handsome and elegant-looking man, but he could only focus on the scars on his face, which had slightly blended into his skin with time. He hung his head and allowed himself to cry in silence. They would never find him attractive, they’d be disgusted with his face, and they’d leave him…

He was interrupted by hearing his S/O call his name behind him. Merde, he had never closed the door!

He turned his head in an attempt to hide his face, but his S/O could see his reflection in the mirror. He choked, “Get out, now.” His S/O approached them, saying his name softly and reaching out to him, but he only loudly demand that they leave again.

He heard their voice soften to the volume of a whisper as they said OK and stepped out. After a moment, he looked up at the mirror again. His face was red from embarrassment, and more hot tears were rolling down his cheeks. He stayed there for a while, replaying the moment in his head again and again. He eventually got up and straightened his suit out. He knew his amour would never stay with him now, but he still owed them an apology.

He arrived at their room and knocked lightly. His S/O opened the door and looked up at him, obviously upset and annoyed. He asked if he could come in, and they stepped aside for him to step inside. He turned to them as soon as the door was closed and apologized awkwardly. He wasn’t used to being the bigger person and apologizing, so at first his S/O wasn’t sure that he meant it, but he pulled off his mask to show he was being sincere. They stared up at his handsome face, their eyes following the length of his scars, which made him shift uncomfortably. He acknowledged that they probably didn’t want him any more, but at that his S/O threw their arms around him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. At this, he teared up and pulled them into a soft, long kiss and wrapped his arms around their waist. His S/O could feel the warmth radiating from his bright red face.

After that, his S/O always makes sure to pull his mask up and press a kiss to his face in private whenever Spy is feeling down. No matter how stressed or upset he is, it never fails to make him smile softly.

#tf2 #teamfortress2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 scout #tf2 pyro #tf2 demo #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 headcanons #tf2 imagines #tf2 x s/o

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fruit-teeth · 3 years ago

Text

Matters of Time and Fate (Chapter 24)

The bed felt cold as Olivia lay there, staring at the ceiling. She could hear a giant beetle pounding its wings against her glass, and while the sight of such a creature disgusted her, she paid the insect little attention this time. Her tears had dried against her cheeks, but they had left itchy stains on her face that wouldn't go away no matter how hard she wiped them away with her sleeve.

Olivia had been up in her room for the past hour or so. Or perhaps it had been two hours, though she had no idea how long it had been. She didn't want to keep feeling awful; she simply wanted to stay in bed and cuddle her plush cat and rubber duck until she felt better. Yet it had been a substantial amount of time, and she still wasn’t feeling right again. Internally, she screamed at herself, demanding that the sadness be cast away, but it wouldn’t budge. The bitterness sat in her chest like a boulder, similar to what she had felt when she learned her father died.

There was a knock on the door just then. Olivia lifted her head, and she asked after a moment, “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Miss Pauling’s voice filtered through, wavering and low. “May I come in?”

Olivia wiped her eye roughly. “…yeah. Okay,”

The door creaked open, and Miss Pauling slipped in. She wasn’t dressed in her normal clothes, rather she had put on a pair of sweatpants and a long t-shirt. Her hair was also quite messy, and she looked tired.

Pauling sat on the edge of Olivia’s bed, saying nothing for a moment. Soon, though, she remarked, “Helen does love you, you know.”

Olivia sniffled, pulling the quilt tighter around herself. “She left me…” she mumbled.

“She wanted to make sure you went to a good home,” Pauling explained gently. “I can’t…I can’t explain everything that she does, but she wanted to give you a good chance. That’s why she didn’t just leave you at an orphanage when your dad died.”

“But…” Olivia’s lip trembled. “What’s wrong with me? Why couldn’t I have her?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you!” Pauling assured, taking a moment to carefully rub at Olivia’s back. “I was there right after you were born…she wanted you to be safe and cared-for, she had me take care of you and keep you warm,”

Olivia let this information process, and she sat up in surprise. “You…” she wiped her nose with her wrist, still teary but intrigued. “You were there when I was a baby?”

Pauling couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. She called me over after you were born, and I got you cleaned up for the social worker.”

Olivia had never heard her father tell her stories about when she was a baby, and her nanny had simply stated she was "cute" and nothing else. She only had a few photos of herself as an infant, and it had felt so strange to think that she had once been such a chubby, toothless thing. Now, though, there was someone who’d been present for her infancy.

“What was I like as a baby?” Olivia asked, shifting closer to talk to Pauling easier.

“Well…” Pauling thought about it. “You were very tiny, and you were actually pretty quiet for a new baby. I had to make sure you were okay,”

“Was I okay?” Olivia wanted to know, as if she were worried for her past, infant self.

Pauling nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind Olivia’s ear. “Yeah, you were fine! From what I know, anyway, you were healthy, just small…I gave you a bath in the sink, you were really calm about it, but you did cry a little when I took you out of your swaddle,”

Olivia wrinkled her nose. “Swaddle?”

“Oh – sorry, the towel you were in. The swaddle. But yeah…” Pauling smiled at her again. “I wish I had pictures but…it was just that one night.”

Olivia thought about what’d she had just heard. She’d been a calm, happy baby who liked baths…she compared that to how she became later, as her father had taught her to become mean and ruthless. Her mind did not harp on that too much, though, and she instead grinned to herself at the thought of getting a bath from someone else. “I don’t take baths, now. Just showers,”

“I know,” Pauling replied. “And that surprises me a lot, I’ve never met a lot of kids like you…” she went quiet for a moment, before saying, “Look…I’m sorry I kept that secret from you. You must have had a lot of questions about your mom when you were little, ones your dad didn’t answer.”

“Yeah…” Olivia confessed. “But it wasn’t weird. I did okay…”

Pauling turned to look Olivia up and down: that same tiny baby she’d washed in the sink, bigger now and sitting next to her. Without giving it much thought, she reached over and picked Olivia up, pulling her into her lap. “Yeah,” Pauling agreed in a soft voice, holding back tears as she rested her chin on Olivia’s head. “Yeah, you’ve done great…”

Olivia was taken aback by the hug, but she accepted it with open arms, burying her cheek against Pauling's chest and letting herself be held. Soft guitar music began to flow in from downstairs at the same time, and Olivia looked up when it reached her ears. “Guitar?”

“Oh,” Pauling realized, noticing it too. “That’s Engie…he must be playing a little something. I wonder if he’s playing for the others?”

Olivia slid off of Pauling’s lap and went to the door, heading into the hallway to find out. Pauling followed her, rubbing her eyes and smoothing her hair back as the two headed down the hall.

Engineer sat on the couch in the living room, slowly picking his guitar strings. Scout lay sprawled out on the floor, staring at the ceiling with raw, red eyes. Pyro hovered near him, gently stroking his hair and muttering sweet things he couldn't understand.

When Olivia and Pauling stepped in, Engineer paused his playing. “Hey, you two. Feelin’ better, Olivia?”

Olivia gave a half-hearted shrug. “I dunno…I feel a little better, I guess, but…” she couldn’t quite articulate the sensation, instead gesturing to her chest. “I feel bad in here still,”

“I feel ya,” Scout spoke up from where he lay, his voice wavering a bit. Olivia glanced down at him, before kneeling and laying down on the floor to join him.

Engineer smiled at the sight, but Olivia and Scout were both so unhappy, he couldn't bring himself to laugh. “Hey, you too…either of you wanna talk about how you’re feeling? That might help…”

Scout rolled over on his side and curled up like a frog, frowning. Olivia copied him without much thought, but when Engineer’s words fully sunk in, she considered the prospect.

“Okay,” Olivia sat back up, wiping her eyes again. “Well…” she drew her knees up and hugged them. “I feel like…Mommy didn’t want me because there was something wrong with me,”

Engineer clicked his tongue. “Nah, nah, darlin’…don’t think like that. People have different reasons for doin’ things, it probably had a lot less to do with you and more to do with whatever she was dealin’ with…”

Miss Pauling took a seat on the sofa, letting out a shaky sigh. “Yeah, you’re right about that, Engie…”

Olivia sighed. “But…but Daddy said she didn’t want me…”

“That’s what he thought you’d understand,” Engineer clarified. “Y’know, Olivia, adults are really complex sometimes, and sometimes we don’t think little kids will understand the things we do. So…we try to make it simpler for you. Maybe that’s why your daddy told you that,”

“Hm…” Olivia thought it over. “But he knew I was smart…he told me every day. We’d do plans for the company at night, and if I did something right he’d say to me, ‘you’re so smart, Olivia!’” She pressed her cheek against her knee. “Mommy wouldn’t say that to me…”

Engineer went quiet, and he set his guitar to the side to lean in a little so Olivia could hear him better. “Look,” he began. “You don’t need her approval, okay? You got plenty of people in this house who care so much about you. When you got that, you can’t lose, all right?”

Olivia took this in, before she confessed quietly, “I wanted a mom like the kids on TV…”

“TV makes you want a lot of stuff,” Scout spoke up from where he lay. “That’s always been my experience…” he sniffed. “Makes you want a good dad, too…”

The floorboards beside the living room creaked, and Olivia noticed right away. “What was that?” she asked, looking around.

Engineer sighed. “Oh, lord…I know who it is,” he set his guitar down, calling, “I hear you, Spy. You can come out,”

Spy uncloaked himself, somewhat shamefully. When he appeared, Scout refused to look at him, choosing instead to pick at part of the carpet. Engineer clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“I’m glad you decided to stick around,” Engineer informed Spy. “But sneakin’ around like this ain’t the way.”

“It’s my job,” Spy defended, a sharper edge to his tone than he’d perhaps intended. He leaned against the wall, staring at the floor. “I’m just…at a loss.”

Miss Pauling glanced up from her spot on the sofa. “At a loss of what?”

“Of what to do next…” Spy’s hands shook a little as he rubbed at his brow, grimacing.

Engineer frowned. “Seriously? Spy—he’s right there.” He gestured to Scout. “How about you stop dodging this and talk to your kid for once?”

When Spy looked up, Scout snorted, “Oh, hell, no. I ain’t talkin’ to that bastard.”

“Now, Scout,” Engineer chided, though his voice was gentle. “I think you deserve some closure and—”

“Don’t tell me how to feel!” Scout snapped, bitter. “Maybe I wanna be angry! Ever thought of that? I got a right to be mad, don’t tell me I’m wrong for it!”

Engineer paused. “I…I wasn’t gonna say that,” he sighed. “I just feel like, if you two don’t talk this out, it’ll only get worse. You know?”

Scout hugged his arms, looking away again, mumbling. Spy watched him for a few, silent seconds, before he took a long breath.

“Jeremy,” he began, stepping towards the young man. “I…I apologize for…well, everything. When you were born, I ran into a great deal of trouble, and as a young man, I did not know how to deal with it properly…”

Spy sat down on the carpet, sitting just across from where Scout was. Olivia watched in silence, checking Scout’s reaction, but he maintained the same, stoic demeanor.

Nevertheless, Spy continued talking. “This isn’t an excuse, I should add. I just wanted to explain why it happened the way it did, because…I should have done better. I should have worked to find a better solution and deal with what happened like a man. But I was a coward, and…” he paused, trying to get reasonable control over his words. “You are not obligated to forgive me, in fact I don’t expect that from you. However, I…I promise I will not leave you again. Not after everything.”

There was a long silence. Scout finally looked up at Spy, his eyes visibly tearing up again. After a moment, he managed to speak. “Thanks…I didn’t think you were actually gonna say sorry.” He wiped his nose, sniffling. “I had a really hard time without a dad, you know. I guess you’re here now, anyway, but…thanks for sayin’ sorry. Means a lot…”

Spy nodded, looking a little relieved to hear that. “All right…good…” he cleared his throat again, clearly trying not to cry. “Well…I’m pleased we could talk about this…even if…”

Scout cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, man. Whatever.” He had a little smile on his face, though, his hands moving up from the carpet to sit on his lap.

Upon witnessing the interaction, Engineer had a sudden realization. “Wait—hey, this is a good idea,”

“What is?” Miss Pauling questioned, not catching on.

“We can just…talk to each other, about what we’re feeling, and…” he tried to think of how to explain it better. “This past day has been wild, and maybe we’d feel better if we just talked openly about what we were feeling,”

“Like a hippie circle?” Scout scoffed, but then backtracked. “I dunno, I ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad idea, actually…”

Miss Pauling sat up taller, considering it. “Sure, we can try it…we can get the others to join in, if they want to,”

“I can start again,” Spy offered, focusing on Pauling. “Miss Pauling, I…I’m sorry for what happened back there, for telling what you told me not to tell…”

“Oh—” Miss Pauling waved him off a little. “No, no…it’s my fault, anyway…Helen told me not to tell that secret in the first place, and…” she teared up again, looking away. “I let her down…”

Pyro patted Pauling’s hand sympathetically while Spy assured her, “No, Miss Pauling…it was her who ran off. It was her who couldn’t look her own child in the eyes and admit what happened. Do not blame yourself.”

Miss Pauling composed herself, rubbing her eye with her wrist. “I guess…” she muttered, unwilling to criticize Helen despite the fact that something in her eyes indicated that she wanted to.

At that moment, Heavy came walking up from the basement, with Medic close behind him. “What is happen up here?” Heavy wanted to know, coming to stand just beside where Spy was seated.

“We’re just havin’ conversations,” Engineer explained. “Just being honest about what’s on our minds.”

Heavy sat down, nodding. “Yes, this is good.”

Medic spotted Olivia, and he moved to sit near her. “Hello again, young one. Look who came to see you,” he moved aside part of his jacket, revealing that Teddy was pressed there.

Olivia’s face lit up, pleased to see the little baboon again. “Teddy!” she reached out to pet his fur gently.

Medic smiled, and he carefully pried Teddy off him. “Here, why don’t you hold him for a bit?”

Olivia gladly accepted Teddy, holding him just how she’d been directed to and watching as he grabbed onto the collar of her shirt. She giggled, “He likes me!”

“He does, you are a natural with him.” Medic praised, patting her head.

As Heavy watched them, he got an expression of gentle love on his face, taking in just how kind Medic could be with Olivia. A thought then crossed his mind, and he looked to Engineer. “I have something to talk about,”

“Oh?” Engineer nodded. “Okay, well…go ahead, big guy.”

Heavy straightened up, looking back at Medic again. “Doktor,” he prompted, getting the other man’s attention. “May I talk about…us?”

Medic glanced up, and he paused, thinking it over. “…yes,” he decided. “Yes, Misha, go ahead…”

Heavy looked back at the rest of the group, before he began to speak. “For long time, now, Doktor and I have been…in love. And…we did not know if she would talk about it, or tell, but…now I want to talk about it.”

Heavy and Medic's relationship was no secret among the mercenaries, thus his admission came as no surprise. Yet, the others chose to be respectful about this.

“We do not think differently of either of you, mon ami,” Spy affirmed, patting Heavy’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we support you guys.” Scout agreed.

Heavy smiled, visibly relieved. “Oh, thank you…I am so happy to be here with all of you.”

Medic approached Heavy, curling up on his lap and giving him a kiss. “Goodness, I love you…” he hummed gently, cuddling against Heavy.

“I love you, too,” Heavy replied, pressing his cheek to Medic’s with a delighted hum.

Miss Pauling laughed softly. “Oh, God, you guys…you’re so sweet, you’re gonna give me a cavity.”

Olivia watched from where she held Teddy, recalling how she’d seen them in the basement before. They really did love each other, that much was clear…

It was after this interaction that the others began to trickle in, one by one, to see what was going on in the living room. Olivia began to feel better as they sat quietly on the couch or on the floor, talking quietly to one another, and she snuggled Teddy closer to her for warmth.

Zhanna had her head laid against Soldier’s shoulder, but she looked up at Olivia after a moment. “How are feeling, little one?”

“Okay…” Olivia shrugged. “I feel okay. I’m still sad because Mommy doesn’t want me…”

Sniper, who’d been rather quiet, slipped down closer to Olivia’s level to sit beside her. “Hey…I know that feeling. It hurts like hell, but you should know you aren’t alone. Okay?”

“I know,” Olivia informed him, pressing her cheek against his arm.

“Are you all right, lad?” Demoman wanted to know, watching Sniper’s expressions.

“Me? I’m fine, I’m fine…” Sniper stroked Olivia’s head a bit. After a moment, he admitted, “This, um…this did stir up some stuff for me, but I’m going to be all right.”

Olivia leaned into his touch, but her eyes landed on Lar-Nah, who was standing just across the room from her. Lar-Nah appeared to be staring at Sniper, but she had a peculiar expression on her face that Olivia couldn't figure out.

It seemed that Spy had noticed Lar-Nah, too, for he suddenly prompted, “What’s on your mind, Lar-Nah?”

Lar-Nah glanced up quickly. “What? What are you on about?”

“She’s plotting something!” Soldier piped up, eying her with suspicion.

“Oh, quiet,” Lar-Nah waved her hand dismissively at him, before looking down. “Everything is fine…”

“Nah, I don’t think everything is fine,” Engineer shook his head, motioning for her to sit with everyone else. “You’ve been real quiet ever since you came here…you wanna talk to us?”

Lar-Nah sat down, her back against the end table, and she said nothing for a moment. Finally, she began to speak. “I killed a man today.”

Scout’s head popped up in alarm. “You did!?”

“Oh—yes, she did,” Sniper gestured to her. “She slammed the whole microwave on his head! I saw it. He was about to shoot me, but she took him out.”

“Huh,” Scout slumped back down again. “We’re gonna get a new one, right?”

Demoman leaned over and gave Lar-Nah a firm pat on the back. “Good work! Did not take you for the type!”

Lar-Nah smiled a little, glancing up at him. “Thank you,” she replied, looking down at her hands and plucking at her nail polish. “That wasn't my first time killing someone.”

Everything seemed to pause for a moment. “Hey,” Miss Pauling pointed out. “So has everyone else in this room…aside from Olivia. And the baboon of course. If you feel bad about that, it’s not a problem here.”

“I don’t regret it.” Lar-Nah affirmed, the tone of her voice shifting. “I poisoned my aunt and uncle when I was a teenager…they deserved it.”

“What did they do?” Medic wanted to know, intrigued.

Lar-Nah fell silent again, before taking a long breath. “If I tell you…you’re going to feel bad for me, and…that isn’t what I want. I’ve never told anyone about this until now.”

“Please talk—is okay,” Heavy assured her.

Lar-Nah finally began, “They raised me because my mother died shortly after I was born. Growing up, they always told me I caused her to die, and that this meant I was a bad omen. That I was bad luck. My aunt was especially cruel to me…” she shuddered and rubbed her hair between her fingers in a self-soothing gesture. “I believed I was bad luck, but one day I had enough and put some chemicals into their food, and I promised myself I would never be a bad omen.”

“Good for you,” Engineer praised. “You didn’t put up with their mistreatment, and you decided to be better than what they told you you’d be.”

“No…” Lar-Nah shook her head. “No, no…you see, I’ve come to realize that…I am a bad omen. They were right…” she looked over at Sniper, and the only look in her eyes was one of crushing regret. “I was the reason the Australium ended up in space, which was what led to where we are today. I was the reason my child ended up dying. I was the reason my mother died…” she put her head in her hands, letting out a shaky sigh. “They were right about me—the only thing I’ve ever done is cause bad luck and misery.”

“Please, you know that isn’t true,” Medic tried his best to reassure her. “Surely, an intelligent person such as yourself would know that the concept of luck doesn’t exist, anyway…”

Sniper, however, appeared distressed at hearing this. “I…God, I had no idea…” he moved a little closer, trying to meet her eyes. “Hey—hey, look at me,” when she did, he explained, “I’m alive, now, all right? I’m okay, I ended up being okay. There’s no reason to tear yourself up over it, yeah? It’s all in the past, and besides: you saved me today. I’d say that makes up for it.”

Lar-Nah curled in on herself, but she looked back up at Sniper. “Truly?” she wanted to know, her voice low again. “You think that makes up for what happened to you?”

“I do…” Sniper rubbed her shoulder tenderly. “And I’m not mad at you, all right?”

Heavy leaned down and gave her a gentle half-hug. “Aunt and uncle were wrong about you…now you have chance here with us. Prove them wrong.”

A little taken aback by the hug, Lar-Nah fought back tears the best she could and leaned into Heavy’s hug. “Thank you…I’ll try.”

Olivia noticed Lar-Nah was about to cry, so she did the only thing she could think of and leaned against her arm. Lar-Nah didn’t respond to the touch at first, but after a moment, she gently patted Olivia’s head.

Miss Pauling's thoughts strayed back to Helen as she watched the scene unfold in front of her, and it was then that an idea hit her. “Wait…” she stood up, thinking it over. “Guys…we have to go out and find Helen!”

“What?” Soldier looked up, confused.

“Pauling, she’s an adult,” Engie assured. “She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

“No! No…” Miss Pauling began to pace, shaking her head. “I know her better than a lot of you guys…she took the Australium before she left, that means she’s probably not planning on coming back!”

Demo gritted his teeth. “’Course she took that. Well, where would she be?”

“I don’t know…” Pauling confessed. “But we have to find her and hold her accountable for—for everything, honestly. She’s been finding ways to avoid having to take accountability forever, and we need to put a stop to that!” she looked at Olivia, taking a breath. “For the sake of everyone. That includes herself…”

“What should we do then?” Spy wanted to know. “Should we form a search party?”

Pauling nodded. “Yeah…yeah. We should take multiple cars and drive all around, everywhere she could be!”

Heavy gestured to Olivia. “What about her? She stays here?”

“Can I come?” Olivia asked, looking up pleadingly at Miss Pauling. “I wanna help…”

Miss Pauling paused, thinking it over. “Olivia…I don’t think we can leave you here. Those people, they could come back, and then…” she shook her head. “I know what we’ll do—we’ll bring you along, but you need to stay in the car at all times, okay? We can’t risk letting anyone see you!”

“She can stay in my van,” Sniper offered. “I have room and a little space I could hide her.”

“Good,” Pauling nodded, relieved. “We’ll do that, then…”

Olivia adjusted Teddy in her arms, feeling a flurry of both excitement and fear. “We’re gonna get Mommy back here?”

Miss Pauling reached down, placing her hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “Yeah—let’s hope…”

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fuckyeahscienceparty · 4 years ago

Text

Recovery

Medic's not exactly having a great day. Engie tries to negate that.

platonic followup to smth i wrote a lil bit ago B') but i don't have to read the other thing to get the jist.

[also on ao3!]

Medic bumbled into the kitchen that afternoon, still upset at himself over BLU's narrow loss earlier that day that had almost definitely been exacerbated by his absence in the time it took the cart to go from the second to fourth checkpoint.

While the rest of his team were only mildly troubled by their failings, insisting that without a doubt they'd get RED good next time, he was honestly more than prepared to throw himself a pity party for 1, having already abandoned his uniform for an old tshirt and pajama shorts even though it was currently only about 5 pm.

As Medic rummaged through the cupboard to find their rather banged up kettle, BLU's Engineer whistled his way in, opening the fridge to grab the half empty pitchers of sweet tea and lemonade he'd prepared earlier that week.

"Callin' it in early tonight?" Engie chuckled as Medic shuffled past him to open the breadbox and see what teas (rather than baked goods) they still had, Engie himself reaching for one of the recently dried cups lingering on the counter from breakfast that morning.

"Mm," was all that came from Medic in reply, Engie giving him a slightly concerned glance as he flipped through the different tea bags they had available.

When he'd decided that lavender flavored earl grey would do, he went over to the sink to fill the kettle with enough water for a decently sized cup, neither of them speaking as Medic put it on to boil and Engie poured equal parts lemonade and tea into his glass.

After adding a few ice cubes and a straw to fill it to the top, Engie cleared his throat to get Medic's attention, the good doctor himself seemingly displeased by the fact that his staring contest with the stove had been interrupted.

"You doin' alright, Doc?" He hedged, Medic merely letting out a curt "fine" before going back to staring at his barely warmed up water. Engie pouted slightly before taking a sip of his Arnold Palmer.

"You sure? I didn't see you for a while during battle earlier, what happened?" He asked, leaning against the table behind him. Medic blinked.

"You... you noticed?"

"Shuck, course I did. Hard not to notice that your buddy's gone missing when he's normally playing lord and savior for your gaggle of teammates who have a tendency to face death with a devil may care attitude," He chuckled, Medic's cold expression thawed slightly by the fact that Engie had called him his... buddy.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," He sighed, going into another cupboard to look for a mug once he'd heard a faint bubbling sound.

"No, really, what happened? I got a little worried for you," Engie insisted gingerly. Medic paused, almost taken aback by his sincerity.

"Well if you must know, it was purely out of my own idiocy," He said as he pulled out a mug with a rather cute image of a dove on it.

"Uhuh?..."

"...I was trying to get a health kit for myself. I insisted that Soldier go on without me because I'm more than capable of catching up and I rather moronically assumed all the REDs were already ahead of us and that if there was anyone there, I could handle myself just fine. To what should not have been my surprise, their Heavy had been lagging behind and shot me a few times before leaving me to bleed out and wait for respawn."

"Jeez Doc, I'm sorry," Engie winced, Medic scoffing in response.

"Don't be. It was completely my fault. If I hadn't been such a dumbass and either sucked up my injuries or asked Soldier to come with me, I wouldn't have gotten myself killed. I still can't believe I'd been so stupid."

"Hey now, don't talk about yourself like that," Engie frowned as Medic began to avoid his gaze. "You got caught off guard. It happens to the best of us."

"But that's the thing- I'm supposed to be the best of us. I'm not supposed to get caught off guard. Like you said, I'm the 'lord and savior' of this team, if I can't even keep myself alive then what kind of useless Medic am I?" Medic carped bitterly, internally grimacing when he realized he was really leaning into the whole pity party ordeal now.

He frankly expected Engie to get annoyed with him, to leave him to wallow in his own bitchiness and self pity as he took the kettle off of the stove when it began to whistle and poured all the water into his cup. He wouldn't have blamed him if he was honest, he was getting pretty annoyed with himself right now.

...But he didn't. He stayed put, his voice going into that gentle tone that made Medic feel guilty he would even think such a thing of his best friend.

"You're not useless. You're human. And humans make mistakes, Feathers, whether we like it or not. Best thing you can do is try and learn from 'em and move on. Best any of us can do, really."

Engie paused to give Medic time to absorb what he'd said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm gonna head to the workshop, I gotta get my sentry repaired and prepped for tomorrow. If you wanna drop by and chat or just sit with me while I work, my doors are always open. But if not, that's fine too. Whatever makes you feel better. And you're always welcome to come 'round my dispenser if you ever need a pick me up during battle, ok?" Engie said as he gently pulled Medic in for a hug.

Medic felt his chest tighten in a way he wasn't exactly used to. Kind as his teammates were once you got to know them, it wasn't often he'd been offered palpable generosity like this. He hugged back, silently relishing the feeling of Engie's arms being wrapped around him.

When he eventually (and reluctantly) pulled away, he took a breath, his next words coming out in more of a whisper than he intended them to.

"...Ok. Thank you, Herr Engineer. I will most likely come by."

"Any time, hun. I'll put up a chair for you, you come by whenever you want," Engie said, giving his shoulder a final pat before grabbing his drink and heading out of the kitchen to leave Medic alone with his tea and his thoughts.

After washing the kettle and mixing in a bit of milk and sugar into his cup, he found himself standing in front of the workshop door, peering in to see its usual inhabitant singing softly under his breath as he opened one of the compartments and poured out all the collected empty bullet casings into a larger bucket of various brass scraps so he could use them for something else later.

As promised, there was an empty chair next to him, that tightening feeling coming back to Medic's chest as he made his way in.

Engie looked up at him as he did so, giving him a warm smile as he reached for his screwdriver so he could pop open the top and put in new rounds.

Medic, meanwhile sat down in his spot, leaning over momentarily to bonk his head against Engie's before taking a sip out of his still scalding cup.

Engie chuckled, moving his own chair a little closer to Medic's so that he could bump his shoulder before continuing his handiwork, the two of them enjoying each others' company in relative silence in a way that best friends often did.

After a while, Engie started singing to himself again, tapping his tools and fingers against his sentry in place of beats or actual instruments. Watching him be so content and enthusiastic about his work, Medic couldn't help but relax, continuing to sip at his tea and occasionally humming back at him, much to Engie's delight.

Eventually, when Engie had moved on to other weapon maintenance, they started talking and joking around with each other instead, Engie smiling whenever he managed to make Medic laugh and Medic resting his chin on Engie's shoulder every time he leaned over to get a better look at his progress.

And sure, the two of them would have to part eventually and Medic would inevitably have another bad day (or several) on the battlefield, but in that moment where it was just they two of them and Medic's self doubts temporarily healed, they were all that mattered to each other.

And what a wonderful thing that was.

#tf2 #tf2 medic #tf2 engineer #tf2 science party #medic x engineer #b/b #fic #c's writing

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okeymakeydude · 4 years ago

Note

if you’re still doing writing requests, maybe how the mercenaries would confess their love to their s/o / ask them out?

Okey, i've decided to do snippets, i did like a mix; some mercs will confess their love and others ask them out. I just did a mess haha

I will refer S/O as they/them. Depend of y'all to consider it a male, female or no-binary aaaand i did S/O with differents personalities more or less, serious, provocative, childish... Etc

Hope you like it!!

Soldier.

Well, he's a man of words and he's gonna show it... But he's not really good at it.

"What a beautiful... present." His S/O smiled while they were holding it in their arms, looked at him. "I like it so much that i'm gonna put it down on the floor, yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too Solly."

"And i don't have any plans this weekend."

"Well, i do." They responded quickly, almost interrumping him, then their eyebrows raised. " Wait a sec, weren't you going to—"

His hands were placed at the sides of their face and he pulled them closer to his, touching their noses. The eyes of both were wide open and it looked like a war of looks.

"You. Me. Date. Weekend. Okay, sweetheart?"

"... A-alright, yeah sure, why not."

Suddenly, Soldier planted a small kiss on the tip of their nose and started walking towards the base. Leaving his S/O paralyzed and looking down, they could only articulate a few words.

"What the hell just happened?"

Engie.

Do you know that loves bad puns? I mean, the bad bad bad ones.

"I got your favorite, hon." Dell left the box on the table while he was sitting in front of his S/O. "Four-cheese."

"Oh yeaaaah, it's pizza time!"

They lifted the lid and smiled when they saw the food, were ready to take a piece but stopped suddenly, seemed to be reading something that was inside.

"Really, this is the worst word game I have ever..." Their own words drowned them, looked at the Texan, waiting for an explanation. "I—I'm, uh, heh... So—"

He took their hand to call their attention.

"I just want to make it official an' clear, y'know, no more doubts."

The sudden hug that his S/O gave him confirmed the last one he had, he didn't hesitate to respond in the same way and they both smiled at each other. Their love looked once more at the writing on the cover as they received a kiss on the cheek.

'Will you be my partner or is this too... cheesy?'

Scout

He feels a bit uncomfortable expressing himself by words, he prefers phisically but well, he's trying.

"You are single."

"Aha."

"I'm single..." He looked at them, seemed a little nervous but was determined to keep talking. "We could change that together, yeah! I mean—not in the friend way, in the... "

"I-want-to-fuck-you way?"

"Ye�� No. No! I didn't mean that!"

"Oh... What a shame."

They both remained silent until his S/O began to laugh, that made Scout look away for a second, maybe they hadn't taken it seriously? The two of them were making a lot of jokes after all. However, he looked at them again when they stopped and saw them with a small smile, he couldn't help but do the same.

"All kidding aside, i'd like to take the next level with you... We can get a bucket of chicken."

Medic

Look, Medic doesn't know how to do it and doesn't even prepare it, he just gets carried away by the situation and see what happens.

"Cover up! You'll get the enemy's attention!"

"Schatzi, are you getting jealous?"

"I'm—No. I'm not jealous. I just don't wanna fucking die 'cause an idiot left his chest exposed." His S/O growled, they seemed upset and tried not to look at him. They started loading the gun. "And what does that word mean? You don't stop callin' me that... Scratch or whatever.

Suddenly they found their face against his bare chest, quickly tried to get away but his arms were stronger. He started stroking their head and took a sigh, pretending to be disappointed. Sad.

"Medic! Lemme— Whatcha—"

"Ow, i really vant to go on a date tonight... If only there were someone to ask me…"

That was enough to make his S/O stand still, looked at him and tried to hide their face. That made him smile.

"I think i know who is going to be that "someone" hoho."

Spy

He would be direct, maybe not at all, but he lets you know what he wants, yet he is often overconfident.

"I love flirting with you, but i'd have even more fun dating you."

"Flirting? 'teasing' suits you more, Spy." His S/O smiled at him before they took a drink of wine, their eyes focused on his and laughed. "Wouldn't that be a little risky?"

"I've thought about it and—"

"I don't just mean the fact that you're a spy." They interrumped him, the grin wasn't gone yet. " There's someone else waiting for you out there, remember? I don't think she'd like this."

"It seems I'm not the only one who likes to tease."

"Oh no, my dear, i just made you see a reality."

With that, Spy knew that they had won the game, one they both have been playing for a long time, and that had gone far. At least he wanted to be clear about everything.

"I'm still waiting for your answer."

Sniper

Yes, he is READY, he is PREPARED and he is SCARED at the same time! But no one is gonna stop him.

At first he had been rude to them, suspicious, mean and even, he showed them about jarates. Now, he is naked in front of them! They still smile at him and treat him with respect. What has he done to deserve someone like that?

"Mu, you okay? You have been—" They were silent for a moment, stood up and took his hands. " You are shaking. I think you should put something on, wait a min."

However, they were stopped when arms surrounded them and they both leaned their forehead against each other. Sniper closed his eyes and started whispering something, he was counting to three.

"Do ye want to go out with me?" He asked in a soft, almost hoarse voice, seeming unsure, but he didn't look away. "There are two opcions: Yes or yes?"

"Well, I have no choice haha!"

Sniper has never felt so happy.

Pyro.

They (Pyro) would prepare a sleepower in their room and a... surprise.

"Is that a heart? Sweet!" Their S/O watched Pyro painting their nails after doing the same thing with their arm, they were fine with that, it was fun. "Do you need more green?"

Pyro shook their head and without letting go S/O's arm, suddenly pulled out a small doughnut from nowhere and that made their crush raise an eyebrow. They used it like a ring.

"I never thought I'd get married so fast!" Joked their S/O, trying not to laugh or eat it. Decided to ask. "Does this make it a date then?"

The arsonist nodded repeatedly and then began to clap their hands, they two decided holding hands and looking at each other as if they had the same idea.

"mmpph phh!"

"Pillow fight!"

Demoman.

I think it's one of the calmest when it comes to asking someone out. He will be sincere and patiently waiting for the answer.

"No, no, no—wait, yo gotta hear the best part; the damn Spy's face! Like "Oh shit" and then, ouch! Time to fly!"

"He cannae stop a Demoknight chargin', mate!"

They both started laughing while their S/O was drinking some beer, Demo's right arm was around their shoulders and the other one had the bottle, he just stared at it.

"Bloody hell, ye don't knae how much ye make me laugh. I love yer company." He took out two tickets from his pocket and looked at them, he continued. "I'm gaunnae go party this friday, Would ye be interested in goin' with me?"

"And leave all the fun to you? I'm in!"

"Aye! Yaldi!"

Heavy.

He believes in truth and more when it comes to love, so he would be just as direct and say everything he feels.

"You make Heavy's life brighter, you don't make fun of me and you respect me. Thanks."

"You were the first one to talk to me when I came here, polite to me and you've even been helping me so far..." His S/O made a grin while they were resting in his arms, suddenly yawned. "I should be the grateful one."

"I love you."

Three in the morning is not a good time to talk about something like that, but Heavy needed to say it. He would have to try again, because they were asleep.

He couldn't help but caress their head.

"Я люблю́ тебя́ всем се́рдцем..."

Masterlist.

#tf2 #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 engineer #tf2 sniper #tf2 demoman #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 pyro #tf2 soldier #team fortress 2 #tf2 snippet #tf2 request

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deadzonetourguide · 4 years ago

Audio

// This is a voice-acted version of a fanfic I wrote on AO3, Rainy Days! Go check that and my other posted romac fics if you like this!

---

Shelter is always a problem out in the wasteland, but sometimes you strike lucky. Sometimes you strike extremely lucky. A hotel, albeit not a huge one, resting somewhat intact close to what would have once been the coast, if there was any ocean left. Just a wide expanse of sand, debris, and the occasional giant, mutated crab amongst other monsters. And just in time too, it had started to rain. It’s not much of a problem, but it increases the risk of various hazards, so it’s usually better to find shelter and wait out the rain and the eventual pooling of irradiated and acidic water for a couple of days.

I trail along beside Engie, the two of us carrying all the supplies while Captain leads us into the building, Pilot already running ahead to check the place out. I’m not quite paying attention to what Captain’s saying about receptionists and bell-boys, but suddenly Engie comes to a halt beside me, dragging me out of my daydream.

“Hey, uh, Engie?” I frown, looking around at the other man, who had very suddenly become quite rigid with a slight shake to him. He’s panicking over something, I realise, sighing softly and putting down my own bags to go over and try to coax out what’s wrong with the guy. “What’s up?”

". . . Don’t feel well. I’ll be. . . outside. Fresh air. Call me when it’s safe." Engie almost whimpers, scrabbling to put down all the stuff he was carrying and head right back out of this hole in the side of the building that was probably once an entrance way.

I watch with an increasing frown. Fresh air? In this world? He probably got spooked by something, and I know I should stick around and watch to make sure he didn’t get into any trouble in the rain - from the safety of the hotel, of course, making my way over to another hole in the wall to look out from. Not even a minute passes before a high pitched screech reaches the ears of both me and Engie, the latter ceasing up in panic while I fumble to grab my gun, only for the source of the noise to reveal himself. Pilot sprints at Engie, yelling something about “playtime on the beach with Doctor Angie”, and in turn the poor doctor spins on his heel and runs in the opposite direction. I can’t help but laugh.

“Careful, Pi, don’t hurt yourselves!” I call out, watching them play this impromptu game of tag, mostly saying that to ensure that Pilot doesn’t inadvertently kill Engie somehow, and that both of them stay out of trouble. At least the DEX has turned on someone else for a while, I think to myself.

It’s a long while of watching them both sprint up and down the beach, stop for a moment to let Engie catch his breath, occasionally with Pilot coming up to gently pat him on the back or sit them both down in the damp sand, only for him to give chase again the moment Engie tries to get up and move away, before I realise that something is missing. Rather, someone. Where did Captain go off to? Considering the other two are busy, the job of finding zeer comes down to me. Not that I mind all too much in reality, but I’ll certainly make a deal out of it.

Turning away from the makeshift window I’d been watching out of, I proceed to start my search off on the bottom floor. I check the lobby, cringing a little at the decaying skeleton behind the counter, then checks what was probably a dining hall and joined kitchen (with some interest, but I find no edible food to speak of, much to my disappointment), and then finally resign myself to searching each and every room on this floor. Dammit. At least I won’t have to bust my shoulder breaking the doors down to look in the rooms, since, presumably, if Captain’s in one of the rooms zee would have already opened the door.

It’s some time into my search until a harsh, discordant sound reaches me, accompanied by a distant grumbling. For a moment I wonder if it was some kind of monster, but the grumble sounded just a bit Captain-like, and I’d have to check it out anyway, just in case. I head in the direction of the sound, only just pushing the door of the room I thought it came from open when a sound - music - suddenly fills the air. Actual music. . . it’s rather soft and light. When was the last time I heard anything like that? It takes me a moment to register the actual room before me, seeing the source of the music as a slightly battered record player with a somehow intact record spinning around on it, and next to the table it’s resting on is a very familiar trench-coated figure.

“SNIPPEY! LOOK AT WHAT I HAVE FOUND!” I can hear the smile in zeer voice, as if zee’s mask didn’t constantly convey a smile anyway. Softening just a little, I walk over as zee gestures excitedly at the record player.

“How did you even find this?” I ask, frowning softly. “I thought these things were made obsolete ages ago, and if there were any left they’d be in pretty bad condition. And to find one in a hotel, of all places?”

“SHUSH-SHUSH-SHUSH. A GOOD WIZARD NEVER REVEALS ZEER SECRETS!!” Zee gently presses a finger against my mask as zee shushes me, resulting in a slightly confused frown from me. “AND, A GOOD HOLIDAY ALWAYS NEEDS GOOD MUSIC!”

“We’re not. . . this isn’t a holiday.” At this point, I should find it useless to dispute Captain’s logic, especially since I typically give into the narrative anyway. It’s at this point I spot what probably would have been glass doors at the back of the room facing the ocean front, leading to a little boardwalk with steps down to the beach, but the glass has long since been blown in. Through them, I can still see Engie and Pilot running around outside, to which I sigh. “Oh. . . those two are still at it? They’ll be soaked through.”

Captain turns to see what I’m looking at, delightedly clasping zeer hands together and sighing softly. “AH! MEINE FAMILIE. PILOT IS ALREADY PLAYING ON ZEE BEACH WITH GRANDPA ENGIE!” While I’m trying to figure out how Engie is a grandpa and how the rest of us would supposedly fit into a typical family dynamic and just how flustered I am about the conclusion I get to, Captain waltzes over to the doors and dramatically throws them open. “WE CAN WATCH OVER THEM FROM THE STEPS! AND WE WILL STILL BE ABLE TO HEAR OUR MUSIC!!” Zee announces, before stepping out into the rain and pretending to take a deep inhale of the sea air, then goes and sits on the steps. “GO GET HIM, MEIN PILOT!” Zee calls once down, alerting both runners to zee’s presence and stopping them in their tracks. There’s a faint "SIR YES SIR!" from Pilot before he begins to chase again, with a newfound vigor, much to Engie’s presumed dismay.

In the meantime, I was trying to inspect the record player to ignore the fluttering feeling in my chest, trying to figure out how on earth it’s still able to function. Did Captain really luck out? But finding not only an intact player, but also a record to go along with it - the odds had to be impossible, right? But the proof is here, right in front of my eyes. . . Sighing deeply, I decide that I shouldn’t think too much about it. What song even is this? I feel like it should be familiar, and it is, vaguely. When and where I would have heard it, I don’t know, but that feeling in my chest doesn’t go away as I listen to the lyrics.

“Fill my heart with song, And let me sing forevermore, You are all I long for, All I worship and adore. . .”

I walked away to the doors before those feelings could get even more bothersome, looking out into the rain to squint at Pilot and Engie running, then to Captain sitting on the steps, now looking back at me and gently patting the space next to zeer in a silent invitation. “I’m not sitting out there. It’s raining.” I grumble, crossing my arms.

I can almost feel the pout in Captain’s slightly disappointed stare, but then, zee seems to light up. “AHA! BUT, DEAR! I HAVE AN UMBRELLA!” To which zee promptly pulls an umbrella from seemingly nowhere, and to which I have to pretend very hard that my face isn’t reddening under my mask, arms crossing tighter in an attempt to hide just how tender being called “dear” made me feel.

We stare at each other for several moments, until I sigh and shake my head, reluctantly stepping out and walking over to sit next to Captain. Usually I would ensure that there would be a respectable distance of a few inches between us, but since it’s raining and I’d really like to not get wet, I sit right next to zeer, gently bumping shoulders. There’s no harm in this, is there? No, I convince myself, this would be fine. So why is my heart beating so hard in my chest? Is it the lyrics of the song, the fact that Captain chose it, the fact that we’re both sitting so close to one another now, or a combination of the three? I know that it shouldn’t bother me so much, there’s no way that zee means it in the way I think zee does, it’s just another layer of eccentricness. And besides, we’ve been closer at times, and there was no absolute confirmation then. . .

The music stops for a moment, dragging me out of my thoughts enough to lay them to rest. Whatever I think, it doesn’t matter, there’s no use being nervous over it when things like this will happen again. So, there’s no use in worrying over daring to get a little closer, daring to relax, to space out a little watching my friends run about in the closeness and warmth of someone I like with music playing gently in the background. And so, I dare to. Exhaling a soft sigh, I rest my head on Captain’s shoulder, inching just a little closer. This is allowed, I won’t be rejected, I’m allowed to do this, please please don’t reject me--

And then Captain gently curls an arm around my waist, and immediately everything feels okay. Not around my shoulders like a friend would do, no. Around my waist, like a. . .

Huh. I really do talk myself down, don’t I? I should really stop letting my anxiety control me. Especially when I feel every shred of worry melt away as Captain pulls me just that little bit closer with a content hum, resting zeer head against mine in turn. Was zee just waiting for me to realise, or have we both been drifting closer without noticing until now? How long have we been this. . . gentle and tender in each other’s company?

Whatever the answer is, we were both happy to stay here like this, watching the rest of our small family play in the rain gently drumming around us all, music of forgotten eras playing with lyrics of putting heads on shoulders and holding someone close, of kisses goodnight and of you and I falling in love, gently playing us away into the slow approaching night. And maybe the songs that play for us will come true, one day.

#Audio Entry #romantically apocalyptic #romac #snippy romac #captain romac #pilot romac #engie romac #romac fanfic #voice acting #charles snippy #zee captain #christopheros pi hatchenson #dr alexander gromov #// the snippy introject who lives in my brain wanted to do this so badly and immediately perished from all the soft and tender #// also recording this was so funny bcs every time we had to do someone else's voice he nearly went feral and i was wheezing hdfisdjs

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lu-undy · 4 years ago

Note

(Hey it’s anon from spicy gone wrong) while Lucien’s gone Sniper does something incredible dumb that causes lu’s brand new expensive suit to be ruin (like like there is no fixing that suit it’s just gone like look at the stains and tears on it-) and everyone is just counting the seconds. Scouts laughing But inside is terrified-, medic and the others our planing his funeral, some debate on wether to call miss Pauling for this one, sniper is having pearl write his will and testimony.

Here we go, Mundy destroys a suit and fears for his very life (lol)! I hope you’ll enjoy! :D

The telephone rang in Spy's suite. Sniper ran to it and in his rush, he bumped the coffee table and a glass tumbled, spilling its content. But he was too preoccupied with the phone call to notice it.

"Hello?"

"Mon amour?"

[My love?]

Lucien's voice was a delight to hear but when he called Mundy "my love", and in French at that…! Ooh…! Shivers…!

"Yeah?"

"I'm afraid it will take longer than expected, I do apologise."

"Oh," Mundy's smile disappeared. "Ok, it's fine."

"I am very sorry, I will get back home a bit later than expected…" Lucien apologised at the other end of the line.

"Alright… It's fine, uh… Just be safe and uh…"

"Mon amour?" Lucien interrupted.

[My love?]

"Yeah?"

"I miss you too, terribly so." Lucien said softly and Mundy relaxed, sighing as he longed for his lover.

"How long do you think you'll be?"

"Half an hour more and count another one to come back to the base."

"Alright…"

"Do you think you will survive an extra hour without me?" Lucien asked.

"I can hear yer smirk…"

Lucien chuckled.

"But yeah, I'll try. Love you, darl'."

"Me too, with all my heart."

Mundy and Lucien hung up and the Aussie turned.

"Oh bugger…" He froze and his blood turned to ice in his veins. "Bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger, bugger…!"

Mundy realised he had dropped a glass of wine on Lucien's brand new suit, the one he would use to go to the opera that weekend with him. But that wasn't the worst part. The Aussie ran to the kitchen and filled a sauce pan with water. He ran at the coffee table and splashed it on the tuxedo: the wine had flowed and the flames of the fireplace had surfed on the wine to gnaw on the precious suit.

Mundy managed to extinguish it and took the tuxedo in his hand. As all of Lucien's suits, it was tailor-made and cost a fortune and a half. As such, it was a unique model…

"Bugger, how am I gonna fix that…?" His eyes darted left and right.

"Meow!" Perle exclaimed.

"Engie!" Mundy answered and he took the suit in his hand, rushing to Engie's quarters. But the Texan wasn't there. "Where is he?"

"Meow." Perle had trotted with him out of her master's suite.

"Ah yeah, it's almost lunch time, he must be in the kitchen."

A few seconds later, Mundy erupted in the kitchen, the burnt tuxedo in his hand and Perle on his heels.

"Engie?"

"Hey pardner."

All the mercenaries were there and their eyes turned to Sniper.

"What the fuck is that?" Scout asked. And the mercenaries gasped as their gaze followed Scout's finger pointing at the ruined tuxedo.

"Engie, you gotta help me fix this, please…" Mundy laid the suit on the table, on the plates and cutlery.

"Well, Sniper, uh…" Engie scratched his bald head.

"Please tell me you can fix it, he's gonna kill me when he gets back here!"

"You did that?!" Scout asked. "Oh man you're dead, you're so, so dead!" He slammed his hands on his mouth, trying not to burst out in laughter. "He's gonna kill you alright and God knows if we're gonna find your pieces!"

Sniper's eyes never left Engie, his only hope.

"How did that happen? Did you burn it?" Engie asked.

"I didn't do it on purpose o'course but uh… yeah, and I had to put out the fire, that's why it's drenched…"

"Man it looks so expensive, he's gonna gut ya!" Scout exclaimed as he touched the fabric.

Sniper's sweat was visible on his brow.

"Listen, Sniper, uh, with all my PhDs, I can't fix that. I'm good with machines, robots, cars, mechanics and electronics in general. But that…? Nah, that ain't my thing… Sorry…"

"Bloody hell…" Sniper put a hand on his face.

"Mein freund," Medic started, "simple burial or cremation? Please accept the burial, I might then as well harvest two or three things before we put the rest of your body six feet under the ground."

"Gosh…" Sniper collapsed on a chair, his hand still on his face in shame and panic.

"God bless your soul, Sniper." Soldier saluted his colleague. "We will say goodbye the true American way: trumpet and shots in the air. You were good son, real good, maybe even the best." Soldier removed his helmet and held it against his chest, his head low.

"Here laddie, ye might as well need some of that." Demo put his bottle of scrumpy on the table in front of Sniper. "Actually, wait…" He took a swig off it and put it back. "There."

"Mmph! Mmmmph!" Pyro entered the room and put his balloonicorn plushie on Sniper's lap to comfort him.

"I… Ugh…" Sniper left the kitchen and went to hide away in his den of a van.

He locked himself up, sitting on the floor, his back on the cupboard under the sink. He was hugging the ruined suit as if life had been once there and left. Despite his colleagues trying to humour him, Mundy knew how strict his lover was on his suits. Hell, he remembered the first time he had tapped on his shoulder, it had been all friendly, at the end of a match, to congratulate Spy. But the Frenchman had spun on his heels and locked Mundy's arm behind his back with one hand while with the other, Mundy felt a blade on his throat.

"Meow…" Perle brushed herself on him, purring to try and bring a bit of peace to him. But Mundy was still anxious. If Lucien could put a blade to his throat for touching his suit, what would he do if he had burnt and stained one?

"Meow…?" The fluffy white cat jumped on Mundy's lap and stood on her back legs to brush her head on his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her as if it would be the last time. She purred.

Meanwhile, Lucien had parked his car and went to his room.

"Je suis de retour, mon amour."

[Honey, I'm home.]

Lucien got welcomed by silence. He raised an eyebrow and called.

"Mundy?"

No answer. The Frenchman started looking around and it only took him a minute to notice the stain of diluted wine on the carpet next to the fireplace.

"Mundy?" He frowned and called again, but no answer. "Perle?"

No one came trotting at him. He could feel it in his bones, something was wrong. He left his suite and headed for the living-room.

"Gentlemen, have you seen Sniper by any chance?"

The mercenaries froze.

"Uh… No…" Scout answered and Spy smelled the bad lie.

"Scout, clearly you have. Where is he?"

Scout blushed beyond his ears and looked at Soldier and Demo for some help.

"God Bless his soul…." The American patriot removed his helmet again. "He was a good private. Strange accent for an American, but a very good comrade."

"What are you talking about?" Spy frowned.

"Look, lad, uh, w-we don't know where Sniper is…"

"Why do you all look like that? Has something happened to him while I was away?" Spy asked, trying to hide how worried he was.

Seeing his colleagues lower their heads and not answer drove him mad.

"Answer me!" He shouted. "Where is he?!"

"We don't know, ok?!" Scout answered back.

"Imbéciles!" He shouted as he slammed as he slammed the door shut and ran out to the van.

[Imbeciles!]

He banged the door.

"Mundy?! Mundy, are you here?!"

Mundy felt the heat of the shame make him melt in a pool of sweat and he held Perle closer to him still. He felt as if those were the last minutes of his life. Lucien banged on the door repeatedly again. Mundy's legs were jelly as he translated the impatience of the hard bangs of his lover as his rage…

"Meow!"

Lucien's pupils retracted to a dot.

"Perle?! Ma chérie, tu es là?! Papa Mundy est avec toi?!"

[My sweetheart, are you in there? Is Papa Mundy with you?]

"Meow!" She repeated and Mundy felt betrayed by the fluffy white cat. She slipped off his arms and went to scratch the door with her claws, meowing repeatedly.

On the other side of it, Lucien was dying of concern for his lover and why he wouldn't open his door to him. Was he that ill? Was what Soldier said to be taken literally? Had something terrible happened to Mundy while he was away?

Lucien was not going to let any door stand between him and his lover. His professionalism came back to him in a flash of consciousness. He went to his cigarette case. He flipped it open and retrieved the pins concealed there to pick the lock. He eventually burst into the van, drowning the narrow dark space with the sunlight behind him.

"Mundy!"

Lucien saw him sat on the floor, his head low and his arms wrapped around his legs. He threw himself at him, on his knees, paying little to not attention that his trousers might be ruined.

"Mon amour! Is everything alright, look at me? Please!"

Lucien threw away his gloves and balaclava to better hold Mundy in his arms.

"Mon Dieu, what is wrong with you? Are you hurt? Did something happen? Say something! Why are you alone with Perle here in the dark?!"

"You're gonna kill me." A muffled voice answered.

"Non! What the hell are you talking about?! I would never do such a thing! Tell me, mon amour, please, whatever it is, tell me…!" Lucien pleaded and Mundy raised his head. He was pale, more pale than Lucien, which was quite a feat as Mundy's natural skin tone was caramel because of the sun.

"Promise me you won't be mad." Mundy looked up at Lucien who was crouching on the floor, his hands each on Mundy's cheeks.

"Of course not, whatever it is, I won't get mad…" He answered, imagining the worst. "Y-you are seeing someone else? You want to leave me?" Lucien enquired, his voice slightly breaking.

Mundy shook his head, still between Lucien's hands.

"What is it then?"

He pointed at the ruined suit on the floor next to him.

"My suit for the opera…? What about it…?"

And Mundy buried his head between his chest and his knees again. Lucien took the tuxedo in his hand and quickly saw the burn and stain. He smelled it and he connected it with the stain of wine he had seen in the living-room.

"You spilled wine on my suit? But what is that? Why is it burnt? Did you get burnt? What happened?!"

"P-promise me." Mundy implored. "Promise me you won't get mad."

"I promise! I promise that and everything that you need and want now please, for the love of all that is holy, tell me!"

"I… When you called me, I knocked on the glass of wine and it spilled between the fireplace and the suit that was on the coffee table. I was talking to you and didn't realise things had caught on fire until I hung up… But it was too late… I-I'm sorry, love, I'll repay it to you, or-or I can repay it however you want, I swear I didn't do it on purpose… I-I'm so sorry…!"

"Oh mon Dieu…!" Lucien sighed in relief. "Oh you had me seriously worried, you and the rest of the team! Soldier seemed to say you were dying!"

"I was and I am! Cause you're gonna kill me for it!"

"Non! What the hell are you talking about! Mundy?"

Mundy raised his eyes and Lucien cupped his face again.

"Is that why you thought I was going to kill you?"

Mundy nodded.

"Mon amour, I love you more than any piece of fabric! I don't care about it! Mon Dieu I was so scared something terrible had happened to you…!" Lucien held Mundy so hard against him, he managed to pull him slightly off the ground.

"Y-you're not mad at me?"

"I'm furious!" He answered. "Never do that to me again! Never let me believe something bad had happened to you! You're… You're everything I have left with Perle…!"

"So, you're not mad at me for destroying your suit?"

"Not half as much as I am for you worrying me that much!" Lucien slithered his fingers through his hair. "I will get the suit made again, that is no issue."

"I'm so sorry."

"Forget it. The suit is immaterial and irrelevant."

They stayed a few more minutes on the floor in the van, just enough for Mundy's skin to get their caramel tint back.

"Je t'aime, mon coeur. The suit can get burnt as long as you are fine."

[I love you, my sweetheart.]

"Love ya too, darl'."

They managed to stand up and share the hug they both needed.

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy

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voidselfshipp · 4 years ago

Text

The Copper wars

Chapter six

Warning: mention of suggestive stuff and scars.

Jerico sighed with a heavy chest, he had just got informed of their Next battle against grey manns army.

The attack would be in a week,and they would have to be prepared by then.

It was a monday morning when the news hit him like a truck, he sat on the edge of the bed,his thoughts running wild while he picked on the crook of his arms skin.

Before he could hurt himself, illa,his white cat, snuck under his hand that was picking on his skin,and got free scratches,until he finally came to his senses.

He took a deep breath,and hold his dogtags hard.

His cats tilted their heads,and though no expression could be seen,they were worried.

Maybe a cold shower would help.

So little by little,his cats grabbed his clothes, chosing something hed be comfortable.

A black turtleneck and a dark Olive green jumper, his black fingerless gloves, some black leather pants and his boots.

Jerico smiled, and grabbed his clothes,plus some towels.

Though seemed weird to his co-workers when they saw both cats rest curled up in one of the benches in the shower room.

Warm water ran on his body,softly combing the shampoo into his hair,to then wash it.

After the shower,he put his boxers and pants on.

Scout elbowed engie softly, Also catching the attention of medic spy and sniper, most of the team also needed a bath , to try and clear their minds from the news they had been given.

They noticed down his back, a stripe tad bit Darker than jericos skin tone,going all the way down to his Lower back,right were the two shoulderblades were, a huge sunflower like Mark was dividing said stripe.

Some scars on his back, and the tattoos that ran down his arms and the one that also ran down his left arm and left pectoral.

--Sick tattoos jerico, how come we havent seen them?--scout asked, trying to get a better view of the tattoos,coming closer to blacksmith.

Jeri just shrugged--I use foundation to cover them--he sounded a bit ashamed--they have some meanings I dont think im ready to talk about just yet

Jeremy quickly backed off from asking questions and nodded--Well if it make you feel any better, I think they are pretty cool--the bostonian boy pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and decided that his Next action would be to bolt out of there.

Jer could only chuckle under his breath as he finished changing.

Though as soon as he put on his black turtleneck,the men present, aside from pyro and heavy,wich couldnt give less of a fuck, had their eyes make a quick trip down jericos back.

--Damn boyo!--demos accent barked loudly as a joke as he wrapped an arm around jericos neck--Youve been workin out eh?

Jeri could only laugh and shrugged--Keeping the shape you know?

After the shower he took the day off, he sat on the Lounges room sofá,minding his bussines, scribbling out some doodles of whatever his mind would come up with.

--oi--he knew that voice very well.

Sniper sat besides jeri, awkwardly signaling Him to come closer,wich jer obliged and did.

What comes Next surprised him, the aussie had wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tightl,his face sinking on his chest.

--Mick...is everything okay?--jerico knew that sniper isnt the cuddly type,unless its something that has been bothering him.

The Man just shook his head,and jeri nodded and layed on the sofá, with sniper cuddling on his chest,his hands made their way to micks hair, softly combing it.

And the sudden cuddles went rocketing from there, even heavy needed a quick hug.

Whatever this battle would be,it was sure to become a shitstorm,and all of his co-workers were very stressed.

Shit hit the fan when spy had snuck into jeris room for a quick cuddle session while he was drawing something to distract himself.

It finally dawned on jer that everyone was at their limit,and they just heard the notice of the war.

So, he put the gifts god had given him to work, while the rest was trying to cope with their feelings, jeri had started what he would consider,the biggest ammount of baked goods he had ever baked.

From normal pastries,to macaroons for spys refined taste, took four hours of baking, and the not so subtle smell of the Dough baking,And curious peeping toms going out of their way to steal a sample.

'Maybe this was too much'he thought to himself as he set the baked goods on the now decorated table, a nice tablecloth he had salvaged from his home, freshly brewed coffee and tea.

In less than five minutes,the team came rushing in like starving dogs.

--Ya did all of this because of Us --scout asked,his mouth watering.

--Yeah,i knew you guys are going through a lot, and back at my hometown, when I worked on the bakery, making this stuff was very therapeautic, so...its a win win, the maccaroons were a pain in the ass,but I wanted to make sure everyone had something to enjoy,oh and medic, I tried my best at pretzels,thats my ex bosses recipe,anyway,indulge boys

The team went and gave jeri a huge Group hug,and those who could stole a kiss or two, And they razed through everything they could get their hands on.

However,jerico Thought they all had Ate everything, but he was proven wrong when engie gave him a Cup of tea with honey,and Two of each pastrie he had baked before.

Needles to say it did wonders for the teams spirit, a bit of warm in these cold trying times if you Will.

From tuesday to thursday the team had a,albeit short, but very hard training,they had to be in tip top shape for the battle on monday.

Friday night brought along another moment of warmth, the team Ate togheter and watched a movie, jeri was curled up besides demo, who had a blanket wrapped around the two.

Scouts head rested on Jers lap, while sniper and spy sat near jer, with medic sitting on the floor with engie.

Pyro and heavy found the small scene of almost six men trying to cuddle anotherone rather cute.

The young arsonist would make sure to give jerico hell for it later.

On saturday,medic called jerico in to fix up some medical checkups before battle.

--Ill be honest vith jou--the german doctor took off his glasses and leaned on his desk--Zhis isnt how I originally zhought it vould zurn out,but given zhe circumstances I cant vait any longer....

Medic took jeris hand, pulling him in for a kiss, his hands cupping his cheeks.

Jers arms hugged his waist and a smile appeared on his lips while kissing--So thats why you were so nervous when I asked you if you were single

--Vell...zhat vasnt very subtle now...vas it?

--No...I dont think so

Both chuckled and kiss again,trying to forget for a bit their future.

#🔥⚒toughesr coppersmith around⚒🔥#f/o fic #tw//suggestive #tw:suggestive #tw//scar mention #tw:scar mention #tw//scar #tw:scar

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thetriggeredhappy · 5 years ago

Note

9 “My head hurts.” for Speedingbullet ~ also you're now my new fav fic author

thank you very much, you’re very sweet!! (warnings for me being mean to scout again)

9.) “My head hurts.”

Sniper really didn’t intend for things to go the way he did. He really didn’t mean any harm. Honest.

Before he joined the team, Sniper was aware of the concept of pranks and whatnot, sure, but he’d never really been subjected to any, or done them to other people. He didn’t go to college (a place where, allegedly according to Engie, pranks happen a lot) and he didn’t technically finish his last year of required schooling and even before that the closest thing to a “prank” that his classmates would do was essentially beat him up. Black eyes and bruises and bloody noses were their idea of a hilarious after-school activity to rope him into.

But on the base, he was introduced to actual pranks. The inside of Demo’s eyepatch being coated in syrup while he’s asleep, Soldier’s helmet being covered in dozens of sparkly stickers, plastic wrap over the door to the kitchen, things like that. Things that were actually a bit funny and not anything worse than annoying and inconvenient to the person being pranked.

At some point, Scout, main prank-maker of the team (years of experience under his belt, apparently) had tried to get Sniper. Salt in the sugar bowl. He’d sat down with coffee, the terrible “acquired taste” stuff that Spy occasionally drank because he mysteriously couldn’t find the normal stuff, and put a spoon’s worth into his mug to make it more bearable. Stirred it. He hadn’t noticed what Scout’s expression was until he lifted the mug to take a sip and made eye contact over the rim. Absolute interest in what Sniper was doing, just a smidge too much to be normal, and no focus at all on the bowl of cereal before him, which just wasn’t normal.

He took his sip, and it was only with that suspicion in the back of his head that he managed to keep from making a face at the taste of it. And then Sniper had a choice to make, and he did so quickly.

He drank the entire mug without flinching. Scout’s confusion rose with every bob of his adam’s apple.

“Something on my face?” Sniper asked neutrally when he put the empty mug down again, the very picture of normalcy.

“Uh,” Scout said, and shook himself from his shock, “I, uh, no. No, you’re good.”

A few beats passed, then Scout picked up the sugar bowl, glancing down at it. He hummed to himself, tipping a bit into his cereal, then putting it down and taking a bite.

He choked immediately, then looked up at Sniper, who was trying very hard not to laugh. “Oh, fuck you.”

That had been the beginning of a little prank war between the two of them.

Scout had done plenty of things. A glitter bomb from an envelope that looked just like the envelopes they received with information for contracts. Taken about half a dozen stray cats from the nearby town and put them all in Sniper’s camper while he was in the base doing laundry. Replaced all the cans of beans and soup that he had stocked up in case of emergencies big or small with cans of brussel sprouts. Given Engie twenty dollars to make a tiny little device that made a little beeping noise every two minutes and fifteen seconds, and promptly hidden it under Sniper’s mattress, driving him bonkers for a total of an hour and a half before he finally found it. It was worth noting that Sniper did lock his door, the little bugger just knew how to pick locks apparently.

Sniper’s major form of retribution for most of the pranks was to act either like it didn’t bother him or like he enjoyed what Scout did. He ended up cooking the brussel sprouts for dinner one day, and talked to Scout about how friendly all the cats were and what their names now were, and Scout was clearly extremely annoyed to see Sniper acting completely normal when he went to battle the day after the beeper incident. But for pranks like the glitter bomb, which left him in a sparkly uniform when he went to dinner, he did feel the need to deliver actual retribution.

Which is why he put an armadillo in Scout’s room. And a small non-venomous snake in Scout’s room after he then started locking his door. And the friendly owl that liked to pester Sniper for snacks in Scout’s room through the window when he asked Demo for help moving his door slightly closer to the floor. He just found that Scout tended to react a lot to animals and kept running with it.

Also he broke Scout’s door once, but to be fair that wasn’t part of a prank. That was a different thing. Which was only tangentially Sniper’s fault technically sort of. He apologized. He got a second glitter bomb.

And admittedly, their little prank war had died down a bit after that, mainly because they’d gotten on somewhat friendlier terms somehow during the mayhem. He wound up talking to Scout occasionally, the younger man just sitting himself down when Sniper was making a campfire or otherwise sitting outside his camper and doing things. In return, sometimes he tried to say hello to Scout when he passed him in the rec room. But then Sniper had suddenly been faced with what he thought was the perfect opportunity.

He’d been out doing his shopping, having headed to a bigger town to get some more specific things that he needed that weren’t easy to find elsewhere, when he’d seen it. The energy drinks Scout chugged like water most of the time, big palettes’ worth of them. Three different flavors, although he’d only ever seen Scout drinking two.

And next to them, the same three again. He walked closer, pondering if maybe Scout would appreciate getting a bulk package of the drinks instead of having to do a twice-weekly run to the store in town to buy a few six-packs. And he’d picked up one of the packs, looked it over, and noticed a little blurb written on it.

“Caffeine-free!”

The plan hit him almost immediately, and he moved to start piling cans into the cart he’d gotten.

From there it was simple—a trick he’d learned years and years before from an oddball “friend” to sneak alcohol into concerts. Sealed drinks being all that was allowed, he learned how to open cans and close them again without it looking any different. It was the work of an afternoon to empty out the cans of Bonk! into the sand (both the Cola and the Fruit Punch flavors just to cover all his bases) and replace them with the caffeine-free versions. Then he waited for the next time they did a supply run, and put it in with the rest of the groceries.

But then, things got… strange.

Scout was fine that first day, a Friday, not particularly groggy at all. During the lunch break in the middle of the day he chugged a good bit more of the soda than even he was usually known for, and didn’t eat anything else, but otherwise acted about the same.

By Monday, things had taken a significant dive.

He first noticed that Scout was almost late. That was extremely strange for him. Scout was usually among the first to report, and would mingle and pester the rest of the team. But instead, he was dashing in five minutes before they were headed onto the field, sleeves not even rolled properly and one shoe untied, looking completely out of it. He stammered an apology, then set about fixing his whole situation.

Through his scope, Sniper kept cursory track over the team so he’d be able to know whether someone could feasibly be passing by or if it was a spy. And what he saw of Scout was funny for a little bit, but quickly grew worrying, and then terribly guilt-inducing.

Scout was fully off his game, running erratically but in a way that was clearly unintentional, getting his attention diverted by sounds of gunfire only to miss the sounds much closer to him. His chatter on the comms was limited, and Sniper caught sight of him getting gunned down over and over and over again.

When the mid-day break was called, a bit earlier than usual, his first sighting of the kid since that morning was of him sitting on a crate, elbows on his knees, head held tight in his hands, talking quietly to Medic, who looked extremely concerned about the situation. Within a few moments the scene had brought over Engie and Demo, and everyone looked fairly grim.

Spy noted the scene happening, then glanced at Sniper, and his posture went rigid at Sniper’s expression. Presumably it was one of guilt, because that’s what was rapidly overtaking Sniper.

“What did you do?” Spy asked sharply, voice a hiss.

“Nothing,” Sniper said quickly, defensively.

All at once, Spy was stood just behind him, a hand on his shoulder, the other holding a knife in the bend of his back, cutting through the stitch of his vest and pressing hard enough to make Sniper’s heart skip a few beats. “Interesting answer. Because our local little idiot has been feeling horribly, terribly under the weather all day, and this is rapidly becoming the sort of problem that gets him in trouble with noteworthy individuals,” he said, voice the kind of lighthearted that made Sniper aware that he was probably about to be killed if he so much as stuttered. Then the weight of what Spy was saying to him sunk in, and he paled in realization. Scout could get in very real trouble for such a drop in numbers. Very, very real trouble. And in their line of business, bad things usually happened to those who got in trouble with their employers. “I just found it interesting, the way you were staring at him just now.”

“I didn’t mean any harm,” he managed, voice hoarse. “Really, I didn’t!”

“I’m going to ask you this exactly once, bushman,” Spy said, voice low now. “What. Did. You. Poison him with?”

A pause. “Oh! No, no, mate, you’ve got it wrong, I—I didn’t poison him! I just—“

The slightest bit of additional pressure from the knife.

“Really! I just switched out that caffeine nonsense he drinks for the same stuff but without the caffeine. It was just supposed to be a prank, I, I didn’t think he would get like this. Figured he’d be a bit groggy and that’s all!”

Spy swore to himself under his breath. “You’re an idiot, bushman,” he hissed. He shoved Sniper a step forward. “Go explain to him what you did. Now.”

Sniper did walk over.

Medic had moved away to talk quietly with Demo, but Engie was still there, sitting next to Scout, a comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked up as Sniper approached, giving him a little, worried smile.

“Er,” Sniper said, fidgeting with his hands for a second before just sticking his thumbs into his pockets. “Scout, can I talk to you for a mo’?”

Scout hummed out a little noise like agreement.

Sniper glanced at Engie again, who took a moment before he realized what Sniper meant and went to get up and give them space. He gave Scout one more pat on the shoulder before he went.

Sniper took his place, hands to himself. “Er. So… you’re not doin’ so well,” Sniper tried.

Scout groaned, shoulders sinking further. “I dunno what the fuck is wrong. This shouldn’t be happening,” he said, voice quiet. “I’m fuckin’ dying over here.”

“Yeah?” Sniper asked, guilt corroding at him quicker by the minute.

“My head hurts,” Scout started. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up. My hands won’t stop shaking and I can barely reload a gun. I didn’t sleep at all last night or the night before that or the night before that and I can’t get a good breath in and I feel like I’m five fuckin’ seconds away from freaking out. Just the usual gunshots and screaming make me start shaking even worse and basically I fuckin’ hate everything right now an’ wanna die. I felt like shit all weekend too but it’s just getting worse and worse.”

Sniper swallowed hard.

“And I dunno what the fuck the issue is, I—I only ever start gettin’ shaky and gross feeling whenever I go without getting caffeine for a few days, and, and I’ve drank like three cans and kept ‘em down and everything and I—I dunno the fuck else to do,” Scout said, and there was an underlying kind of distress, dismay, panic, misery that made Sniper fold in on himself.

“Didn’t realize… you needed it that much,” Sniper said carefully.

Scout sighed, his breath leaving him almost explosively. “Yeah, because I didn’t want nobody to know. Only the Doc was supposed to know, because we kept tryin’ all kinds of meds but none of ‘em worked right, and we figured out if I just drink a fuck ton of caffeine it works better than most meds. So he found some stuff with a ridiculous amount of the stuff and now I drink it all the time or I can’t think right or do anything.” A second sigh, and Scout looked like he was trying to melt and sink into the ground. “And now everybody knows that I’m a fuckin’ idiot who can’t do shit or think right without drinkin’ enough liquid energy to give a bear a heart attack. And I’m maybe having the worst day ever and I just wanna go curl up and down half a bottle of headache meds and try and sleep until everything stops sucking so much.”

Sniper was pretty sure he was going to keel over dead.

“But hey,” Scout said, a dreary, sarcastic attempt at optimism in his voice, and lifted his head enough to look at Sniper, and he hadn’t noticed earlier, but his face was pale and his eyes had bags and circles under them that may as well have been bruises they were so dark. “At least you’re over here. Talkin’ to me. That’s really not like you. Good to know you give that much of a shit about me to come listen to me whine.”

Sniper had to look away, squeeze his eyes shut.

“Anyways, you said you wanted to talk to me?” Scout asked, putting on a terribly brave face despite how objectively horrible he was feeling.

“It was me.”

A pause. Sniper couldn’t look up. “What?”

“It was me. I switched your Bonk! out for some caffeine-free rubbish.”

Another, different pause. “You what?” Scout asked, voice quiet.

“It was meant to just be a prank,” Sniper said, head falling to his hand. “I thought you’d get all drowsy for a little while, be sleepy and a bit off your game and confused. I didn’t mean to make you feel this sick, and… and I’m sorry.”

Silence for a good minute or so. “Snipes, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

Sniper nodded. “I’d deserve it,” he conceded, glum.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” Sniper got shoved, and was sent sprawling on the dirt. “You fuck! I can’t believe you!”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Sniper tried, sitting up.

“God damn it if you weren’t so cute I’d break you right now!” Scout exclaimed, bat in hand, red-faced and positively fuming.

“You think I’m cute?” Sniper asked, a bit surprised.

“Not the topic of conversation right now! You’re a bastard!”

Sniper fell back onto the dirt, staring up at the sky. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

“You owe me,” Scout declared.

“I know.”

“Big time,” Scout added.

“I know.”

“You’re takin’ me out after we clock out today and you’re buying me more soda and then you’re getting me dinner,” Scout finished.

“That sounds fair.’

“…Fuck you,” Scout said once more before he stormed off.

Sniper remained on the ground for another few moments, silent.

“…Cute?” he repeated to himself quietly.

#speeding bullet #sniperscout #tf2 #team fortress 2 #shut up me #my fanfiction #my writing #as a person with adhd this is genuinely a thing that can happen if your meds get fucked up especially if youre on Strong Ones

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kellanved-ammanas · 6 years ago

Text

Weird

“You got to help me prank Spy for April Fool’s.”

Sniper looked up at Scout from where he sat on the edge of his bed. He was still half asleep because Scout had just come in to wake him up, they hadn’t even left campervan for breakfast yet. “What?”

“I need to prank Spy for April Fool’s and you’re going to help me.” Scout normally pranked everyone for April Fool’s in small ways. This year though he was focusing all of his attention on Spy for… reasons.

“Why would I help you prank your dad?”

“Because you love me and I asked you to.” He couldn’t say ‘no’ to that now, could he?

Sniper sighed. “All right fine, you got me. Why do you need my help though?”

“You’re taller than me and two people working on the idea I have will make it a lot easier.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you when we get there.” When it was almost too late to change his mind. “I’ll get everything we need for it so just be ready to help me on the big day ‘kay?”

“’Kay.”

“What you need all that stuff for boy?” Engie asked, raising and eyebrow at Scout as he approached the car.

“Reasons,” Scout said with a nonchalant shrug before stepping forward to put it all in the car. As expected, the trip to town had provided him with everything he needed for his big prank. Engie questioning him on it was also just as expected, there was too much stuff to hide so he hadn’t even bothered trying. “Don’t worry about it.”

Engie sighed as they climbed back into the car, him driving, Scout taking shotgun. “You’re going to pull a prank on someone, aren’t you?”

“Yep, not on you though so don’t worry about it.”

“Well all right, as long as it don’t affect me and don’t hurt no one, I suppose I don’t care. Who you pulling it on?”

“Spy, don’t tell him please.”

Engie shrugged. “All right. What you planning though?”

“Uh… I can’t tell you in case you decide to tell him after all.” Scout didn’t want to risk that.

“Yo Pyro, can you do me a favor?” Scout said as soon as Pyro answered the door for him.

He mumbled something rendered incoherent by his gasmask in response. But well, Scout could take that as assent, right?

“Tomorrow I need to you keep Spy out of his room for as long as possible, for at least like three or four hours, more if possible. Can you do that?”

Pyro tilted his head in confusion. “Why?”

“I can’t tell you why but you’ll find out tomorrow for sure. It’s important so you got to do it please. And don’t tell him I told you to do it either because then he might figure out the surprise before it’s ready.”

“Ooh, a surprise.” Pyro lightly clapped his hands. “Okay, I’ll keep him away.”

“I knew I could count on you buddy, thanks.”

“That’s a lot work mate, I’m not sure he’ll be gone for that long,” was Sniper’s reply upon Scout finally revealing his prank idea.

“Nah, it’ll be fine,” Scout replied, hoping he was right. “I asked Pyro to keep him busy for a while so we got some time. Probably not a whole, whole lot so let’s get to work, huh?” They were already here in Spy’s room, Sniper couldn’t back out now, right?

“All right fine,” Sniper gave in with a sigh as Scout knew he would.

“Awesome, thanks, love you.” Scout gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before hopping away to start.

“Uh… why you want to do this anyway?” Sniper asked after a couple minutes had gone by. “He’s going to be pissed at you, you know that, right?”

“Of course, I know that, that’s like the point.” What fun was a prank that didn’t at least mildly annoy the person getting pranked? “You remember that gift I got him for Christmas? We had like… a really touching moment because of it so I got to make up for how sappy and sweet that was by hardcore pranking him for April Fool’s to annoy him a little… or a lot.”

“Uh… all right, I guess. Just… don’t tell him I helped.”

“Hey mate, come look at this,” Sniper called from the attached room that housed Spy’s bed. Scout has sent him in there to see if anything could be done in there.

Curious, Scout put down what he was doing and quickly made his way over. “What is it?”

Sniper was standing by Spy’s bedside, the nightstand’s drawer open in front of him. “This is your mom, right?” He turned around to show Scout a photograph.

“Uh…” Scout took a step closer to get a better look. “Yeah.” It was without a doubt his mom, younger looking but undoubtedly her.

“Then that must mean, these baby pics are yours.” Before Scout could ask him what he meant, Sniper held up four more photographs, fanned out like cards in his hand. Scout’s mom holding a baby, just the baby, and then two more of a young toddler. Scout might not remember having those pictures taken but he’d seen enough pictures of himself as a young kid – his mom took plenty – to know that was indeed him. And if there was any doubt left, the one of his mom holding the baby was a copy of one that his mom had framed in her room that had his name written on the back.

“You were a cute kid,” Sniper said before Scout could say anything. There were a few more pictures in his hand that he was shuffling through.

Scout’s face flushed with heat. “I… I was not.” Sniper seeing his baby pictures shouldn’t be embarrassing, should it? It’s not like it was pictures of him in his awkward teen years or anything like that but still. And being called a ‘cute kid’ was the final nail in the coffin, that’s the kind of thing his mom said about him. “And… and we probably shouldn’t be looking at those.”

Sniper paused before his expression transformed into a grimace as he lowered the pictures. “Uh… you’re right. It just… kind of happened, sorry.”

They were in Spy’s room, those were Spy’s pictures. He kept pictures of Scout as a baby in his bedside drawer. He’d kept them with him for years and… had clearly taken good care of them… ugh. They shouldn’t have been looking at them, it was a breach of privacy that even Scout wasn’t comfortable with.

“First of all, let’s both agree to never ever tell him we saw those, okay?” he said, pointing at the photos.

“Agreed.” Sniper stacked them back up and put them back in the drawer. He then pushed it closed.

“Second, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Thing’s have been way too sappy around here lately. We need to tone it down some before we end up looking like one of those cheesy family movies where everyone’s so happy all the time it’s actually kind of creepy.”

“I don’t think you got to worry about that any time soon since a big part of both your job and your dad’s job is to kill people.”

True but still, it was a bit much, wasn’t it? All this time, since even before Scout had begun to suspect anything or had even met Spy, Spy had been carrying around those pictures. It was more unquestionable evidence that Spy cared for Scout, had always cared for Scout. All the while Scout had been assuming that Spy/his dad didn’t care about him until a relatively short time ago. Getting used to that idea, even if it was what he’d always wanted, in such a short amount of time was kind of a big thing, it felt weird sometimes.

“Let’s just leave this room alone and finish up out there. It’s been a while, I don’t know how much longer Pyro can keep him distracted for.” Scout gestured for Sniper to follow him back out to Spy’s main room, his ‘tea room’ as he put it.

***

Something was up. Pyro could be pretty chatty and insistent on someone hanging out with him sometimes but he was clearly working to keep Spy attention this time. Though, Spy probably would’ve dismissed it as unimportant if it wasn’t April Fool’s. Someone – probably Scout because he was the one most likely to pull pranks – was up to something and had instructed Pyro to keep Spy busy for a while.

So as soon as he reasonably could, he disengaged saying, “Pyro, I have something I need to attend to, we shall continue this later.” He cloaked before Pyro could reply and rapidly left the room.

The most likely place for Scout to do something was Spy’s room so he went there first. Everything looked normal on the way there, no buckets filled with water above doorways, no saranwrap stretched across door frames. Meaning the prank was in his room. … Or his instincts were wrong, that was unlikely though.

He grabbed the handle to his room, turned it, and pushed the door open. Nothing fell but his suspicions were confirmed. He sighed as he stepped into his room to get a better look.

Every object in his room was now wrapped up in brightly coloured wrapping paper. His table, chairs, the wood he kept for his little fireplace. All the light objects such as his paintings at first glance seemed missing a but a look up revealed that they’d been wrapped up too and tapped to the ceiling.

The only object not up there and not giftwrapped was the mug Scout had gotten him for Christmas. It was placed on the table, on top of a piece of paper with writing on it. Stepping forward and moving the mug to pick up the note revealed exactly what Spy knew would be on it.

‘HAPPY APRIL FOOL’S DAY DAD!’ written in big messy block letters. And if that wasn’t enough, it was also signed with Scout’s scribbled signature that he’d started putting on his drawings.

Now, Spy had two options. Give Scout what he wanted and react to it, getting mad and forcing him to clean it up. Or he could deny Scout the satisfaction and just deal with cleaning it up himself. … The former would only encourage Scout to possibly do something like this again in the future, thus making the latter the better option even if it was the more annoying and time consuming one too.

First, he tore off all the wrapping paper on everything not tapped to the ceiling. Even just by the end of that he was tempted to smack Scout, but alas he couldn’t. With a long-suffering sigh, he positioned one of the chairs under one of the tapped and wrapped up paintings. He stood on it – this was so undignified, hopefully no one would ever know of this.

The tape holding the painting to the ceiling was surprisingly thin, there was no way it could hold for long. He could easily rip it free which would be much quicker than cutting through it. So gripped both sides of it and yanked it. There was more resistance than he’d expected so he pulled a bit harder. It came free all at once with a loud pop, offsetting his precarious balance and sending him stumbling to the floor. If he hadn’t been standing on the chair, he might’ve caught himself. But as it was, it toppled over with him.

He immediately pushed himself up with a grunt of pain that turned into a groan of annoyance and anger. It had been a trap, multicoloured glitter was now everywhere, all over the carpet, chair, and Spy himself. It would take hours to clean up and even then, this spot would probably never be completely free of glitter ever again unless he removed the carpet entirely. The chair was probably unsalvageable too and there was a good chance his suit was ruined.

He stood and brushed himself off which only succeeded in getting more glitter on the carpet and stuck to his gloves. Shaking them out did little to help “I’m going to fucking kill him.” Forget not giving Scout the satisfaction of a response. He was going to clean this up and pay for it. It was his mess, Spy was not dealing with it.

First though, holding back his seething anger for now, Spy investigated the trap further. It didn’t take long to find out what had happened. There’d been a thin plastic bag filled with glitter and confetti glued to back of the painting and to the ceiling. Pulling on the painting had broken it, making the popping noise and resulting in this mess. It was clever really, Scout had accurately predicted what Spy would do but that only made Spy want to slap him more. Speaking of which…

Scout wasn’t hard to find, he almost never was but Spy didn’t even really need to look for him. He was in the common room, playing cards with Sniper.

“I can see you found my trap,” he said, grinning wide as Spy approached.

Sniper look too and grimaced before quickly looking away. Meaning he’d either helped set up Scout’s prank or had at least known about it. Probably the former considering how much work had had to have gone into setting it up. If only Scout put that amount of time and effort into helpful things.

Spy glared down at Scout. His suit was ruined so was his carpet and chair, glitter was one of those things that never went away. Which is why Scout had used it, he was going out of his way to be an ass. And now he was grinning about it. It had been a long time since Spy had last wanted to smack him this badly, he just barely refrained from doing so.

He did flick out his knife though to point at Scout – Scout didn’t even flinch – “You’re cleaning it up.”

“And if I don’t?”

Spy didn’t answer, just kept glaring at him. Any death threat he made would be completely empty, Scout knew that now. So if Scout refused to clean up his mess, Spy would just give in to his urge to smack him upside the head, he’d make sure it’d hurt too.

“Uh… I should go,” Sniper muttered as got to his feet. He slunk off, retreating, and Spy let him. Even if he had helped Scout, Scout was still the one most at fault.

“See you later Snipes,” Scout called after him cheerfully as if he didn’t have a knife pointed at him. He then stood too. “But yeah, yeah, I’ll clean up the mess I made, don’t worry. If I didn’t, you’d make a big stink about it and no one wants to deal with that.” He patted Spy on the arm condescendingly before starting for the hallway leading to their rooms.

Spy turned to followed his progress out. What was with him? It’s like he wanted Spy to be mad at him? Why? Spy was not in any mood to figure it out.

After changing into a fresh suit, Spy left Scout to clean up the remains of his prank. He gave a it good few hours before returning to check on him, long enough that his rage had shimmered down to be replaced with confusion about Scout’s behaviour.

The last time Scout had gone so far out of his way to specifically annoy Spy had been before he’d known Spy was his dad. And even back then he hadn’t put that much time and effort into it. Ever since it had become an open thing between them all his pranks had been minor and other annoyances mostly unintended. But then suddenly he pulls this out of nowhere, taking several hours of set up time and no doubt spending quite a bit of money for all the supplies. Before this, the most effort he’d put into a prank was stretching saranwrap over all the doors, inconveniencing everyone in base, that had been last year’s April Fool’s joke. So something was up with him.

When he walked into his room once more, Scout was still there, trying to get the glitter out of the carpet with the vacuum cleaner Engie had modified to be super effective. To no one’s surprise though it wasn’t working well, glitter never went away entirely. But he’d gotten all the other bags of glitter down without bursting them – thankfully – placing them on the tea table. And he’d unwrapped everything that had been taped to the ceiling and put it mostly back where it belonged.

Not yet noticed, Spy walked over and unplugged the vacuum cleaner.

“Hey don’t…” Scout began, sounding irritated as he looked up. “Oh, it’s you. You still mad?” Now he just sounded exhausted, he had no one but himself to blame for that.

“No, just wondering about a few things. So sit down, we’re going to have a talk.” Spy sat in one chair and gestured for Scout to sit across from him in the other, the one that had been covered in glitter by Scout’s trap.

Scout hesitated, frowning before doing as he was told. “You’re going to give me some kind of lecture now?”

“No, I’m going to ask why you did this.”

“Because…”

“And before you tell me any lies,” Spy interrupted, “I’ve been making an effort to be honest with you for a while now, I expect the same in return.”

Scout flinched, grimacing. “Well… I don’t why I did it then. I mean, I do, it’s April Fool’s and I wanted to pull a prank. But… I don’t know.” He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Things have been… weird lately. It’s been a long time since you’ve yelled at me or got really annoyed and mad at me. I guess that’s my fault because ever since I found out for sure about you know what, I haven’t been doing… you know, stuff to annoy you a whole lot. In fact, I’ve been doing like the opposite, haven’t I? And like… it feels kind of weird sometimes so I figured I’d take this opportunity to do something to make you super annoyed and mad at me to make up for all that.”

“Well, you’ve certainly succeeded.” Spy didn’t bother trying to keep his disappointment out of his voice. Things had been going so well between them lately, of course Scout would ruin it.

“Good that was the goal.” Scout’s pleasure about that was a bit too forced. “I uh… was super dumb though, huh? Sorry about your carpet and chair and stuff. I probably put a bit more glitter than I needed to in those bags. On the bright side, your room’s a bit less boring now.” That was one way to describe it, not the way Spy would though.

“So, you want to talk about it?” Spy wasn’t good with emotional situations but as Scout’s father wasn’t it his duty to get to the bottom of this somehow?

“Talk about what?”

“About why you think it feels weird we’re getting along.”

“Oh uh… I don’t know.” Scout shrugged. “I don’t really get it myself, it just feels sort of weird sometimes. Not that I don’t like it or anything, I do but… I don’t know. I don’t think there’s really not a whole lot to talk about.” Another shrug. “I won’t do anything like this again though, promise. It was way too much work anyway, especially since I have to clean it up because I technically made the mess.”

Spy let out a sigh of relief, dealing with Scout’s emotional baggage surrounding Spy was not something he liked to deal with. Maybe it was a bit selfish of him to feel so relieved about not having to deal with it right now but who cared? He was selfish sometimes, everyone was, it had kept him alive on numerous occasions.

“As expected, your mother has taught you well,” he said. “But if you ever do want to talk about it or anything else, I’ll be here.”

Scout gave him a look of genuine surprise that morphed into a smile. “Thanks.” Not that he even needed the offer, he always came to talk to Spy about stuff whenever he wanted to anyway. Now he had an official invitation to do so and oddly, Spy only felt mildly apprehensive about making that offer, hopefully he wouldn’t regret it later.

“I should probably get back to cleaning though,” Scout continued as he stood.

“Don’t bother,” Spy said with a sigh. “You can finish tomorrow.” Or try to, it would never be the same again.

“Ah neato. You’re the best.”

“I know.”

Scout looked at him with a fake frown he couldn’t hold for more than a few seconds. “Anyway, after I put the glitter bags back in my room, you want to play some ball?”

“I suppose.” It’s not like Spy had anything better to do. And well, even if things did get awkward and uncomfortable sometimes – and occasionally annoying – he did like spending time with his son.

“Cool, I’ll meet you outside in like five minutes. And uh… I’ll try to make it up to you somehow. Sorry again.” Scout gathered up the bags of glitter and fled before Spy could respond.

At least they’d sort of made up, Spy would just have to live with the glitter for a while, maybe put a rug over it. Either way though, the glitter chair would now be Scout’s chair, Spy would put it in his room later – making sure to get glitter on as many things as possible while he was at it – and then get himself a new guest chair. That would his payback and Scout wouldn’t be allowed to complain, he almost couldn’t wait for it.

#Team Fortress 2 #TF2 #SpyDad #Scout/Sniper #April Fool's Fic #Scout has Daddy Issues #Prank

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fucknobadtf2fanfiction · 7 years ago

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Meet the Apprentice chapters 1 - 2 (request)

As it happens, sometimes I get a random request from someone and if I have the time I'd be more than happy to help. Keep in mind for those who like pictures, I won’t be using reaction images because the hard drive with the hundreds of images has been lost.

Keep in mind not a revival but a small visit from the aunt everyone hates, nice to be back for even a moment. This is a reboot to a story someone submitted to me.

-mod m

Meet the Apprentice

Summary:

As the engine’s roar died, the driver’s door swung open and a woman stepped out. She raised one of her hands to shield her face from the sun, squinting up at the building. She shouldered a brown leather backpack and self-consciously straightened her pleated yellow dress. Taking a deep breath, she started across the parking lot towards the entrance, shifting the bridge of her glasses as she went.

(I'm bad at summaries and I don't want to spoil stuff but also I'm still working out the plot so I'm basically making this up as I go sorry!

It's kind of good that much I can tell you.)

Have confidence in yourself! People want to read a story with confidence, there’s no reason to apologize or let the audience know you’re just as clueless

Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated, and if you have any questions, ask away! Have a good day! :)

Chapter 1

The sun sat high in the sky of New Mexico, glaring down on the drab orange landscape and forming shimmering heat waves on the dusty ground. Among the desert scene sat a large facility, a light gray building that had large air conditioners running all along its roof. Around it was a tall chain link fence that had large KEEP OUT signs bolted to it at intervals. As if the locals didn’t know enough to stay away.

The only openings in the fence were two narrow gaps, one along each short end of the rectangular compound, wide enough for your average pickup truck to fit through. Through each gap was a parking lot, and a metal sliding door entrance to the building. A multi-colored line ran horizontally along the outer walls, half of it red, the other blue. On the blue half, a slightly rusting 1959 Pontiac Bonneville made its way into the lot, pulling into one of the lopsided parking spaces. As the engine’s roar died, the driver’s door swung open and a woman stepped out. She raised one of her hands to shield her face from the sun, squinting up at the building. She shouldered a brown leather backpack and self-consciously straightened her pleated yellow dress. Taking a deep breath, she started across the parking lot towards the entrance, shifting the bridge of her glasses as she went.

A dress for battle maybe not so but a dress for heat and a simple outfit for simply arriving makes sense. ( pls don’t have her fight in a dress author I have high hopes )

Dust swirled around her ankles, and a warm breeze toyed with her pigtails as she walked up to the metal sliding door. Raising one pale, calloused hand, palm reddened by the heat, she knocked; a reverberating clang cut through the tranquil desert. As she waited for someone to answer, she examined the logo on the door. The door itself was painted blue, gray peeking out where the paint had peeled off the corrugated metal. A large white wrench had been stylistically painted on it, the lower half of the tool made up of the acronym “BLU”. The top half of a bolt was held between the teeth of the wrench, and in the middle of the bolt was a yellow and blue globe. Beneath all of this, in block letters, were the words “BUILDERS LEAGUE UNITED”.

Humming to herself, she wondered what she’d look like in an all blue uniform.

Suddenly, the door began to slide upwards, making a rattling noise that she could only associate with ball bearings, and she shook herself from her thoughts. In the doorway, illuminated by bright fluorescent lights, was a short, stocky man wearing overalls and a yellow hard hat. Around his neck was a pair of what appeared to be some form of welding goggles. His brown eyes were small and deeply set, and the skin around them was rather paler than the rest of his face, but nonetheless they shone brightly and had a warmth to them. The man that the kind eyes belonged to smiled at her brightly.

To be fair engineer's eyes are blue but that’s hardly something to get upset about

“Well, howdy there. My name is…well, we ain’t supposed to share our birth names, just our class names and any nicknames that come besides, but for simplicity’s sake let’s just call ‘em our names. Might as well be, I reckon, since we been using ‘em for so long. But as I was sayin’, th’name’s Engineer. If that’s too long for your fancy, you can call me Engie.”

it’s a thick accent but acceptable. It’s readable. Kudos

The woman nodded; she’d been informed of the “no-names” rule when she had been registered by Miss Pauling. The secretary had claimed that it was for “security’s” sake, but she assumed it was to stifle as many bonding opportunities as possible.

The man had extended a hand, so she shook it. His grip was firm

“My name is Sa-…sorry, I mean, Apprentice.” She replied sheepishly.

Engie just grinned at her. “That’s alright, it takes a bit to get used to it. Now come on in, it’s just about suppertime. Normally th’whole team don’t all sit in the rec room to eat, but since we’ve got a new recruit Miss Pauling had... suggested we use the time to get introduced, to save time later.”

Read: threatened. For some of them, at least.

But Apprentice nodded as she was led into the building. She sighed as a blast of cool air hit her. Engie led her down a long, gray hallway. There were doors leading off of it, all marked with signs. One read “BUNKS”, and a few others, “BATHROOMS”. Another large sliding door sat on the right, with a sign above it that read “RESPAWN”. She shuddered as she remembered the RESPAWN chip she still needed to have implanted.

Respawn chips give me so many memories of years ago when everyone played around with respawn ideas….. Even I have a fanfiction out that focuses the start of the respawn and before….

Engie pointed at the RESPAWN door. “Through there’d be your ammo lockers n’such, and then there’s another door in there leadin’ to the battlements. We’ll go over this tomorrow when y’all’re given the tour. We get Sundays off, o’course, and when we move to the next compound we get the whole weekend to get settled.”

Apprentice nodded again. She wasn’t much of a talker. The same could not be said for Engie, however, who was talking quite a bit, and the more he talked, the thicker his Texan accent grew. Most of it was just bits of random trivia about the facility and offhand comments about its name (“Ya ain’t gonna wonder why it’s called ‘Turbine’ once ya see the battlements, that’s for sure!”) and the team (“Y’all might think I’M talking much, but you just wait’ll you meet Scout! That boy could outtalk a lil yappin’ dog, I’ll tell ya that”).

Don't insult my baby!! He’s perf!!

He led her through a small kitchen (the sink was piled with dishes; covering the pile was a towel, and on it was a piece of paper, on it scrawled hasty note: Outta site, outta mind, Engie.)

The Texan snorted at this and muttered, “Darn it, Scout.”

He rolled his eyes at Apprentice. “That boy hates doin’ his share of the chores, ‘specially the dishes. And he can’t spell worth a darn, neither.”

I was trying to defend scouts education level but the only thing I could find was the track terrorizer and it was when he snuck into a high school track team at 23 hahaha [x]

Apprentice smiled at that and followed Engie through the kitchen doorway, into a room that was the dining room and rec room, according to the sign above it. She frowned a bit when she saw the sign; was everything here labelled?

There were eight men sitting in various places around the rec room, absorbed in their own activities. None of them noticed her walking in. Engie leaned towards her.

“I’m gonna go get the grub, now go’n get yourself settled.” He headed back into the kitchen.

Apprentice took a deep breath and walked forwards. She hated meeting new people, and always felt that they were judging her, that they thought she was weird. But as she got closer, she realized that she was probably one of the most normal ones there. One of them, a light-skinned man in a baggy fireproof suit, sat on the floor, criss-cross style, in front of a couch. He was shifting back and forth, a deceptively childish grin on his face, as he clicked a lighter on and off. His eyes shone bright with the reflection of the flame, but there was a fire to them that definitely wasn’t a reflection. She decided to steer clear of him for now, and looked around for a safer person to sit near. Unfortunately, none of the other options seemed to be very good.

I don’t like the whole showing pyro’s face thing, and if he had the mask on it would be impossible to see his eyes or skin. This is personal preference to me though, you do you, author.

On one of the three lumpy couches in the room sat a lanky man with thinning brown hair. A pair of yellow shooting glasses were pushed up onto his forehead, and he was sitting on far end of the couch closest to the wall. He was drinking coffee and reading Catch-22. He appeared calm, but the way his eyes were darting around the room and the way he seemed to be trying to collapse in on himself suggested that he wasn’t used to being around the rest of the team after matches.

Catch 22 came out in 1961 so that puts this storyline closer to the gravel war. The setting is important folks, +1 point for doing your research author. [x]

A bottle flew past her head, drawing her attention to the far end of the room, towards the dining table. Two of her teammates were in, from what she could see, a fight over a…cupcake. One of the men was wearing an overly large army helmet, and the other was a scrawny young man with buckteeth. He had a bloody nose, and the army guy was screaming something about “cupcake communists”. Sitting at the table was a black man wearing an eyepatch, who was laughing at the two so hard that he was punching the table. Also sitting at the table, watching the fight in disgust, was a rather short, skinny man wearing a ski mask and a suit. He was smoking a cigarette daintily.

He looked over at Apprentice, appraising her for a moment, before sniffing and turning back towards the fight (the army guy now had the skinny one in a headlock, which Skinny was valiantly trying to escape).

She glared at him. What was his problem? Rolling her eyes, she moved to the couch in the middle of the room, closest to the television set. Two other men were sitting on it. One of them was wearing round spectacles and reading a thick encyclopedia, titled Gray’s Anatomy. A glance over his shoulder showed her pictures of organs, scientifically labelled. She wrinkled her nose. The spectacled man acknowledged her with a nod, then returned to his book. He turned the page and laughed at something. She scooted a bit farther away from him. The man farthest from her was tall and muscular, with beady blue eyes. He was knitting what appeared to be a pair of gloves. She sat awkwardly on the edge of the couch, waiting for Engie to come back. She raised her arm to check her watch. Five o’ clock, exactly.

this is just as awkward as you can get, man.

A large hand tapped her elbow, and she turned in surprise to the large man at the end of the couch. He leaned across the man with the spectacles, who grimaced at him and leaned back.

“You are new recruit?” He asked. His Russian accent was prominent in those few words.

“Uh, yeah, I am. My name is Apprentice.” She awkwardly extended her hand. He shook it lightly.

“I am Heavy Weapons Guy. I have question for you: do you have woolen stockings?”

She scrunched up her face in confusion. “Umm…yes? It got pretty cold in Nebraska, so I have a couple of pairs. I brought ‘em just in case, but, uh, doesn’t seem like I’ll need ‘em.”

Heavy Weapons Guy simply shrugged. “It will get cold in the nights.”

Apprentice nodded slowly.

“Right, but, uh, wh-why did you want to know?” She tilted her head to the side, squinting at him.

“Wanted to know if Heavy would have to knit you some. I knit them for new people. Knitted them for Doktor”, he pointed to the man with the anatomy book, ”the little rabbit Scout,” he pointed to the boy fighting, who was still in the headlock and slowly turning blue, “and the Demoman.” he motioned to the man with the eyepatch. “But you do not need them, da?”

Apprentice twitched her shoulder. “Nah I guess not, huh?” She smiled at him.

“Pretty nice of ya, Heavy. I can call you that, right?”

Heavy nodded at her, and returned to his knitting. The “Doktor” leaned forwards again. He flipped another page, revealing a very realistic drawing of a transparent human body, with all of the organs, nerves, and skeletal system visible. He turned to Apprentice and grinned in a manic way.

see I hope there is more characterization to medic than just the body obsessed doctor jerk stereotype

“Zis is my favorite part!”

She stared at him for a second, then slowly nodded.

“That-that’s. Nice.”

He nodded his head feverishly, still grinning, still without blinking, then returned to the book. Just as she was wondering if she should maybe switch places, Engie came back into the room, holding a large cast-iron cooking pot. She stood up quickly and moved towards the table.

Finally.

Marking the end of chapter 1. The ONLY issue is the cold attitude of the team seemingly ignoring her. Now, this is all our creative differences, I would think a team would be a bit more attentive.

Still not a flaw, I'm finding no huge issues in the story of any canon characters or your own. ALSO, labeled is spelled like this <<

CHAPTER 2

As Apprentice walked towards the table, the scents of the meal began to waft towards her. Her stomach rumbled fiercely. Engie sat the tall pot onto an oven mitt sitting in the center of the table. He pulled a handkerchief from his overall pocket and wiped his hands, smiling. His face fell, however, when he noticed the cupcake on the table, and the two men fighting over it.

“Soldier! Scout! Quit roughhousin’! And Soldier, stop chokin’ that boy before ya send him to RESPAWN.” Engie barked. The two team members froze in their actions, Soldier dropping the Scout, who was gasping for breath. The Soldier saluted to Engie, crying, “YESSIR!” Engie just shook his head and headed towards the kitchen again.

“Ah’m goin’ to get the cornbread and corn. Demo, y’wanna help get the dishes?” The man with the eyepatch nodded, and stood up with a grunt and went with Engie towards the kitchen. Soldier dropped his hand from the salute position, then glanced at the cupcake that was still on the table. Scout, who was grumbling to himself as he stood up (“Coulda taken him, didn’t need Engie’s frigging help- “) noticed this, and jumped on the Soldier when he lunged for the pastry.

it’s trivial to fight over a cupcake b ut the more I think about it, the more I think... yes.. this does fit their personalities...

“Oh, no you don’t!” Scout yelled. The Soldier once again began to yell back, and the two continued to brawl. They hit the table, almost spilling the chili. After around a minute of this, Apprentice had decided that she’d had enough. She was hungry, in an unfamiliar environment, and all this yelling was giving her a headache. She was not happy, so she retaliated.

Apprentice stalked forwards, closing the gap of around seven feet between herself and her teammates.

“HEY!” She yelled to disorient them. They turned to her, startled, and before either of them could react, she grabbed Scout by the ear and dragged him away from Soldier, pushing aside the army man as she did so.

“Knock it off.” She growled. Scout, knocked her hand away, rubbing his ear. Soldier, on the other hand, looked stunned, then grinned proudly at her.

Scout sneered at her. “Don’t tell me what ta do, you ain’t my ma. Back off!”

Nothing like stopping little twink boy from fighting naked man

In all seriousness, this should mean our character has a fit physique, not being itty bitty tiny. Leme see those girls with muscles, author. It’s hard to be intimidating being small and tiny!

She sneered back at him fiercely. “YOU back off, or I’ll break your back.” Ignoring the Scout’s wounded expression, she grabbed the cupcake from the table and held it up to the two men. “This is what you’re fighting over, right?” She asked. The Scout nodded, and the Soldier yelled, “Affirmative!” Apprentice winced. Didn’t the guy have an inside voice? But she nodded in a way that suggested that she had firmly made up her mind about something. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Engie and Demoman had returned, bearing more food and table settings.

“Well then. You guys can’t fight over something that’s not here, can you?”

Scout and Soldier looked confused. Demoman and Engie were now watching the interactions unfold, Engie with some mild trepidation, Demoman with a grin on his face. Cigarettes had been watching out of the corner of his eyes with interest the whole time, and Catch-22 had gotten up to move to the table, but stood awkwardly near the couch while the scene played out. Heavy and the “Doktor” were still sitting, but began to get up as they noticed the arrival of food.

Scout put his hands on his hips and snorted. “Whaddaya mean, not here? Ya holdin’ it right in front of my friggin’ fa- “

Apprentice stopped him mid-sentence by taking a big bite out of the cupcake, and then subsequently finishing it in two more. The Scout looked hilariously affronted, and Soldier’s jaw dropped. Scout sat heavily in his chair to sulk, but Soldier got right up in her face, yelling.

“HOW DARE YOU EAT THAT CUPCAKE! I AM AN AMERICAN, AND I WILL NOT HAVE MY RIGHT TO CUPCAKES TAKEN BY YOU CUPCAKE COMMUNISTS!”

What I want to know is who baked said cupcakes . . .

Is engie the wife of the team

Spit flew from his mouth, smudging her glasses. She whipped them off, standing on her tip toes to look him directly in the eye (or as much as she could, with how low his helmet was). Her green eyes were wide and dangerously bright as her face reddened with anger.

“How about you get out of my face, you sociopathic sergeant! I’m American too, AND I HAVE THE RIGHT TO EAT THAT CUPCAKE!” She yelled back. She wiped her glasses off on the hem of her dress, shoved them back on her face and continued to glare the man down.

The Soldier, however, responded in a way that took her by surprise. He grinned and saluted her, relaxing his muscles a bit so that he wasn’t standing as stiff as a board.

“Ma’am, you are a true American woman! I salute you! You take this attitude to those cupcake communists and kick it right up their asses!” He then proceeded to fall into a chair.

more kudos for not making him a sexist bitch, author.

Apprentice lowered herself back onto the balls of her feet, anger being replaced with confusion. “Um…. thanks, I guess.”

Gr8 first impression apprentice i mean you’re just great at them lol

She turned to Engie, who simply shrugged at her, chuckling. The rest of the team sat down at the table as Demoman finished passing around dishes, and she could see that they had all found the scene to be hilarious. The only one who didn’t appear visibly amused was Cigarettes, who reluctantly put out the one he was smoking when he caught Engie’s glare. There was still an empty seat, but no one else seemed to notice, so she kept quiet. Once they were all seated, Engie clapped his hands together.

“Alrighty then! Now, firstly we’re gonna- hang on, where’s Pyro?” Engie looked around the room, spying him over on the floor by one of the couches, still flicking the lighter.

pyro being the team child isn’t my fav stereotype but i’ll take it

“Pyro,” he called, catching the attention of the man. “Suppertime.”

The Pyro grinned and jumped up, trotting to the table like a little kid. He took his seat and rested his chin on his hands, his elbows propped up on the edge of the table. He stared off into space, his eyes still open slightly more than normal.

“Now then,” Engie approved, nodding. “First, we’ve got some chili, cornbread, and corn on the cob. Ya don’t like it, don’t eat it, and you can go hungry till it’s your turn to cook. While y’all’re dishin’ yer food out, we’re gonna go ‘round the table clockwise and say our names, just so we all know ‘em. You can start.” He said, motioning towards Apprentice.

“Right. Yeah. Well, I’m Apprentice.”

The rest of the team scrambled for food (and so did she), and continued to divulge their class names.

“Scout, an’ I’m like da coolest- “

“Demoman, who thinks this boyo should quit kissin’ his own arse and let everyone go. An’ you can call me Demo, lass.” Apprentice decided that she liked him. He seemed fun, and had an interesting Scottish accent.

“I AM THE SOLDIER!"

“I am called ze Spy.” Said Cigarettes with a prominent French accent, raised eyebrows. He didn’t seem to be eating much.

“Medic!” She noticed he was still reading his book as he ate.

All i can see is medic exclaiming without moving his facial expression. One hand shoveling food, eyes locked onto a book in the other, screaming medic but not raising any eyebrows

“…...m’theSniper.” A quiet but harsh voice mumbled, coming from the shy man. He sounded…. British? Australian? Australian, she decided. Even though he seemed uncomfortable in his surroundings, he still had a sharp edge to him, something that seemed to say, “I might be nervous but if any of you make fun of me I’ll rip your heart out.” Not an easy thing to convey simply through body language and milliseconds of eye contact, but he was doing an excellent job at it.

sniper is so tsundere

half expecting a b-baka! in there

“Engie, as you know.”

“Pyro!” The man’s voice was rough and deep-throated, but still enthusiastic and almost juvenile. He was making statues out of his cornbread with one hand and twirling his dreadlocks in the other.

“Apprentice already knows Heavy.”

She nodded, and continued with her food, taking in the environment. The rest of the team was either eating in silence, or involved in conversation. The Scout had decided to confront the Soldier about the cupcake, claiming that it was unfair because he was American, too. The Soldier, however, seemed to be mostly ignoring him, choosing instead to “converse” with Demo, in the loosest use of the word. They seemed to be mostly yelling nonsense and laughing. Engie was having a quiet conversation with the Sniper, and the Spy had somehow managed to steal the Sniper’s book, and was currently flipping through it.

“So, uh, I didn’t mean it about earlier, ya know?” The Scout said, grinning at her, revealing his buck teeth. She understood why Heavy had called him a rabbit.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

He leaned back in his chair, putting one of his arms on the headrest of her chair. “Nah, I was just messin’ around is all! You’re pretty cool, ya know? And dat thing with the cupcake was pretty hilarious, acksually.”

“Actually.” She quietly corrected him.

He tilted his head to the side. “Huh? OH! Yeah, I know, it’s my freakin’ accent, ya know? And den my teeth ain’t helping much, so I gotta kinda speech imped’ment, I guess. But dat’s cool thatchya caught that, you must be pretty smart, huh?”

Giving scout a speech impediment is a pretty interesting thing. I don’t see many stories where scout actually has a speech impediment but I don’t like it when authors dumb down scout like he is a child.

My only advice is don’t make him dumb as a sack of dirt? Scout’s position requires him to be fast and smart about his moves, and he was pretty street smart since he grew up with all of his brothers… I'm sure he didn’t pay much attention in school but the boy has some skills and is smart in other areas in life.

“Yeah, I guess.” She squinted at him. “Sorry to ask, but are you trying to…. flirt with me? Or what is this?”

The Scout removed his arm from her chair and exaggerated a wounded expression. “What, a dude can’t just talk to a girl, huh? Nah, I know, my ma says I come off too strong but mosta the girls I evah talked to were the ones I was looking to date so ya know, that’s just kinda how I am now. But nah, you’re cute, I guess, but I’m holdin’ out for Miss P to start recipercatin’ my, y’now, feelings for her. Cuz she’s a classy lady, and waitin’ for her to change her mind’ll totally impress her!”

Apprentice shook her head, smiling. “If you say so.”

This chapter kind of ended abruptly, I had to check the source to make sure I didn’t forget to copy all of it.

I’d day first chapter was fine and ended on good terms but the second makes me think that there was more to real- maybe go into it more and end off of a cliff hanger and not in the middle of a conversation.

You usually end a chapter in the middle of a convo when person A drops an info bomb or something crucial to the plot, but simple chit chat makes it seem like you stopped writing and simply published without looking back. Either way, the ending is FINE, just my opinion.

If you publish anymore you’ll have to ask me directly to keep going on with a review but for now, this is my opinion for both chapters. Lack of words and comments = I had nothing bad to say. I had to search for ways to butt in so there weren't walls of only the story.

I think you’re on a good track, make sure to not make Apprentice a dainty flower and super small, UNLESS her position and role needs her to be small and nimble. Remember you can always make characters, small and nimble, but with visible muscle. Hope you don’t have her uniform as a dress, keep her hair up out of her face, don’t have characters idly fall in love unless you give it several chapters of development.

I think she’s going in strong leaving with a touch first impression. She’s not meek and it seems she’s not afraid to get her hands dirty. Keep going with this and you’re set. If you need any character development help or brainstorming or etc, feel free to message me. I’m always here, I'll even hand over my personal on request.

Thanks for submitting, hope to hear back on your thoughts.

-Mod M

#tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #mod m #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 fanfiction #thanks for the submit #was a good read #really hope to hear back #this isnt me returning btw #;)

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iliketowritefantasygirl · 6 years ago

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Idk I was feeling kinda angsty and felt like Blaze needed to be comforted and it was either gonna be Honey or Bolt. I decided Bolt would be the better option because he bullies Blaze the least (of the older mercs) and was also closer to Cinder.

This one only has four pages/1.2k words

Blaze kicked the dirt around his feet as he stared at small cemented monument in front of him. It was a simple thing. It only had a name and rank on it, with a small phrase.

He sighed, letting the single rose in his hand to fall to his side. There were already bunches of flowers all around the damn thing. It has been a hard day for him.

‘Cinder: The best RED Spy ever.’

Blaze slowly crouched and placed the single rose with all the other flowers. “I…I know it’s not much,” he whispered, not quite sure to who. “I know there are others grieving…who miss you as much as I do…but God, even in death, it feels like I’m always vying for your attention.”

Blaze heaved a large sigh and got up. He thought finally speaking his thoughts would help but…he just felt the same. His problems were still there, just spoken into existence.

The sound of uncloaking caught Blaze’s attention. He spun around quickly to find Bolt approaching the monument. Blaze said nothing but sidestepped as Bolt passed him as if he weren’t there. He looked down at the grave and scoffed, but with a smile. “‘The best RED Spy’.” He chuckled, finally acknowledging Blaze by looking his way. “That’s a tad bit discrediting, no?”

“Are you here to pay your respects too?” Blaze asked in an accusatory tone. He had hoped he was alone with his mother’s memory, for just a moment. Though part of him was curious on Bolt’s thoughts of his mother.

Bolt shrugged in a contemplative fashion, as if he had to think about it. “Hm…no. I already did this morning, with my dear sister.” He took a few steps towards Blaze and put a hand on his shoulder. Blaze forgot to be mad for a second, as his heart fluttered in his chest. He didn’t often talk with Bolt, if at all. “I came to make sure you were okay. You left in a hurry.”

“I was trying to capitalize on my opportunity to visit my ma’s monument alone. Without judging stares,” Blaze explained, shrugging Bolt’s hand off his shoulder. “I see the way they all look at me. Demo, Engie, Honey, Hell, even you sometimes. I know you all blame me for taking her away.”

“Blame you? No, don’t be stupid.” Bolt scoffed and pulled out a cigarette. He brought it up to his lips and lit it, before speaking again. “I blame that deadbeat dog who calls himself your father – or, did once, before leaving Cinder alone the instant you were born – for taking my predecessor.”

“How did you feel about Cinder, anyway?” Blaze asked, changing the subject from his father as quickly as possible. His father was a subject he tried to keep secret but apparently the entire older generation of mercenaries knew about him. “Were you also in love with her?”

“Ah…no…I’m afraid my heart is already captured. Even back then,” Bolt answered, looking towards the distance wistfully. “Plus, wouldn’t that be awkward? With my sister so smitten? No, I was not in love with her.”

Blaze secretly wished in the deepest recesses of his heart that Bolt was in love with his mother, so he had some sort of excuse to latch onto him as a father figure. “So…you didn’t like her?”

“Heaven’s no,” Bolt shot back, almost spitting his cigarette out mid-drag. He exhaled and removed the cigarette from his mouth. “She was a close friend of mine. My best friend, even, if we want to get sappy. A dear confidant.”

Words teetered at the edge on Blaze’s tongue. Bolt smiled mournfully at Cinder’s monument as he looked down at it. “I’m sorry,” he managed to say at last.

“Sorry for what?”

“Ya know…takin’ her.” Blaze scratched his arm nervously. “I…thought I could make things better by like…I dunno…joining her old team? I mean, we, me and my family I mean, were poor, and I thought…God, I was dumb. I thought I could honor her memory, or something?”

Bolt faced him. He grabbed Blaze’s hand and held it between his own two hands. He held steady eye contact that Blaze fought to hold without looking away. “You honor her memory well, my friend. You’re the best Scout this team has seen, and I used to be one, so I would know.”

Horror lurched in Blaze’s gut as he felt a lump building in the back of his throat. “Are you proud of me?” He was thankful none of the older members were around because he knew he wouldn’t live that down otherwise. But he had to know.

Bolt smiled and nodded, small and slow. He looked down for a moment as he thought of his next words. “Yes. But more importantly, I’m sure she’s proud of you.”

Blaze pulled away and desperately fought the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He had to say something. “Yeah, thanks.” His voice unceremoniously cracked on the word ‘thanks’ and there was no hiding that tears were slowly trickling down his face.

“Any time.” It didn’t take long for Bolt to finish the cigarette, before dropping it and stomping it out. He stood at Blaze’s side comfortingly. “I miss her so much. And the others as well. But that doesn’t give them the excuse to disregard your emotions. She was your mother. Nothing stings more than an orphan’s loss.”

Orphan. Blaze didn’t think of himself as an orphan until then. The crashing reality of his mother’s passing – one he never gave himself time to process – crashed over him like brutal ocean waves. He broke down there and then, crumpling into Bolt’s arms like the heartbroken child he was.

Bolt was surprised, but still accepted him in his embrace, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and rubbing soothing circles on his back as Blaze sobbed. He didn’t say anything, but stood, almost stoic, yet still comforting. “I miss her,” Blaze managed to choke out, still embarrassed at himself for breaking down though not able to find it in himself to pull away.

Bolt finally turned and hugged Blaze full on. He wasn’t one for physical contact. He didn’t even seem like one for forming bonds at all; the only two people Blaze ever saw Bolt around were his sister, the Demo, and Honey, though he mainly just pestered her. Blaze pulled away, sniffing pathetically and wiping his eyes with the sleeve of the jacket he was wearing.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Listen, we don’t talk often, and perhaps it will be easier to open up to one of your girlfriends, but just know, that I never have, nor will blame you for Cinder leaving or dying. Okay?” Bolt put his hand on Blaze’s shoulder once again. “And, if you are feeling alone in your feelings for your mother, that I am here, if it’s somehow easier to talk to me about it.”

Blaze nodded, fresh tears spilling from his eyes. “Yeah,” he said as nonchalantly as possible. Bolt nodded back and slid his hand off his shoulder, looking down at the monument once more. Blaze found himself doing the same.

When Blaze looked back up, Bolt was gone. Perhaps it was for the better. He didn’t want his team to see him coming back to base in tears with Bolt in tow, like some sort of crying child holding his father’s hand. He was pestered enough for his ‘daddy issues’.

Blaze crouched over his mother’s monument one last time, touching it lightly, before getting up, wiping his face, and making his way back towards his base, sad, but feeling better, strangely enough.

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voidselfshipp · 4 years ago

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The Copper Wars

Chapter 3

Tw:MC gets triggered.

By the time it was night jerico had finished the blueprints for his New invention.

A thirty feet tall robot, called The Forge, he couldnt wait to make It,but first he should change,and Grab something to eat,maybe even go to town and see whats up.

He took a quick shower,and changed,walking to the kitchen with his cats following behind him

--Hey guys whats up--jeri said non chalantly.

The mercs couldnt help but stare, he was wearing tight black pants,a dark green sweater, his hair tied in a bun while some stands fell loosely on his face.

--We uh...we were just about to eat-- engie mustered up, Serving the food.

--Nice, oh also! Ill go into town, anybody wanna come with me?

The men , except for pyro,soldier and heavy looked at eachother,before an argument broke out about who should accompany him.

--ya should let me go!, im super fun to be around!

--What ye goen ta get is this little shite talking yer ears off-Demo said drinking from his beer.

--Oh yeah? Well ya cant even stay still!youre drunk off ya ass!

--Id offer myself,I could use a break from workin'

--Ja!so would I!

--I zhink I could use some fresh air zoo

Jer stood there thinking--What if all of Us go?we could also use it to know eachother.

The mercs look at eachothern,and with grumpy looks they nodd.

And so, after eating off they went to town.

When they arrived the place was absolutely bustling with life,in the main plaza there was music playing, and jerico really wanted to dance!

The tune was so catchy!, and it reminded him of how much he and his dad would dance.

He took a quick look to his companions,but he could tell nobody was onboard.

So he just,stands there, pouting and his arms crossed.

Until a hand softly poses on his shoulder,he looks at engie who smiles and lends out his gloved hand.

Jer suddenly smiles, a huge smile on his face as he takes It.

The rest couldnt help but feel their chest warm up,he had a beautiful smile.

The music changes to a more softer one,and engie sweats bullets as jeri puts his arms around his neck.

--oh shit sorry i--

--No no,its alright uh aint used to dance with a Man thats all

--Theres always a first time,though if you want you can go back with the rest

--Its alright...this...this is fine

Both danced slowly,hesitant and unsure,but eventually they warmed up,and absolutely Killed it!.

Jerico was having so much fun.

Suddenly the texan Man dips him in, and he hugs his neck as jeri feels hes going to fall.

Engineers arms hug his waist,and with red cheeks they got back on their feet.

The texan knew hed get teased by scout, but seeing his companion happy made him feel giggly like a schoolgirl.

While walking through the local feria,jer fidgeted as he saw the stalls,so Many Many pretty things!.

He ran around, scout following him as he also got excited by all the things people sold.

--anyzhing Catching your interest?--spy sneaked behind the New merc, his french accent made a shiver run down his spine.

--Beejeezus!you scared me!

--my most sincere apologies,but please answer

Jeri just shrugged--Nothing really I mean they are pretty but,nothings like...'wow I want to buy that',besides you dont need to get me anything

--Consider it a welcome gift,if you need anyzhing or change your mind,let me know,our revoir

And the frenchman left.

While the rest were exploring,jeri sat on the empty stage, he then saw a Man,struggling to get his kid to calm down, the same Man was trying to play something on his guitar to no avail.

So he approached the dad, and asked if he needed help.

--You can try

Unaware of his team watching him, he sat on the floor with the kid,And softly played the guitar.

Jeri smiled,the kid mumbled things in what could be understood as spanish, and an idea appeared on his face.

--Hoy voy a hablarte

De mis héroes, que me vieron crecer

Desde el león que se hizo rey

Hasta la princesa que rompió la ley--He sang,gaining the kids attention--

Si me preguntas a mí

De ellos aprendí

Que hay personas por las que vale la pena derretirse

Que todo es posible, incluso lo imposible

Las virtudes a veces están bajo la suficiente

La belleza esta en el interior

Recuérdame aunque te diga adiós

Debo dejar de ser algo que no soy

Llorar me tranquiliza los problemas de la vida

Elimina de tu vida si elimina tu sonrisa

Hay una lágrima por cada risa

Eres más valiente de lo que crees

Porque tenemos que crecer

La segunda estrella a la derecha todo recto hasta el amanecer

Aférrate a aquello que te hace diferente

Si esperas el momento oportuno, era ese

Ohana significa familia, familia estar juntos siempre

Que tu alma libre esté

Que nunca es tarde para ser joven--his team had Walked closer.

The kid slowly calmed down as he sang, and quietly joining him.

Jer had a huge smile on his face,pouring his heart and soul as he sang with the kid who did the same,enjoying the music-- Boo

Sigue nadando

Quiero ser cómo, tú

Hakuna matata

Vive y deja vi bibidibabidibu

Hay un amigo en mí

Tan blandito que me quiero morir

De ellos aprendí!

Both ended their singing and the kid started to giggle and laugh, jerico gave the Man back his guitar and watched them walk away, with a warm feeling on his chest.

--recruit is good with little kids--heavy said.

--back in my home I had a lot of siblings,you end up learning I guess

And they spend the rest of the night enjoying the town.

Once back at his bedroom, just as hes about to sleep, he notices a pacage on his desk.

How...how did that get in here?

He got out of bed and Turned on the desk lamp.

--Que carajo...?--(what The fuck?),he then opened the small box to find a beautiful book,with carved details,painted gold.

'Since you too design things I figured this would suit you best.

Spy'

Said the note on the wrapper of the box.

He smiled and left it there,already too tired.

He then when back to bed, and fell asleep with his cats on his chest.

The morning sun filtered through the old blinds,jer hears his alarm go off,smacking the button of his alarm with a groan.

Suddenly he jumps as loud noises and shouts reached his room.

--la re puta madre!--he cursed sitting Straight,vica stands on their two back feet and with his front paws Cling to his unbuttoned shirt.

Jer picks them up,as illa jumps on his shoulder,and he walks to the source of the noise.

--Can I know what the fuck is going on?--Jerico asked,grumpy and a bit anxious.

--zhis idiot tried to Cook a pie,and somehow left zhe fork inside of it--medic said looking at scout.

Suddenly, scout screamed at the top of his lungs to defend himself,with a stupid argument.

Jer jumps back and hugs his cat, who purss and licks his hand.

His breath hitched as hes barely able to say--scout shut up!

His broken voice is enough to make the whole Room shut up and look at him.

--leetle Man feels bad,whats up?‐-heavy tried to Grab his shoulder but jeri stepped away.

--Scout give him a glass of vater-medic approached jerico softly, guiding Him to sit on the table--...how jou feeling now?

The New merc drinks the glass of water as he brokenly tries to steady his breath.

Vica sits on his lap,and illa jumps on the table, purring into the hand thats holding his head.

--I...I think im alright--jeri straightened his back--sorry,shouting And and loud noises make me anxious, try and Keep it quiet for now please?

--Ja, Ve'll zry, oh, by zhe vay,breakfasts ready

Engenieer was so kind to make the New merc breakfast with some home made applepie(without the fork inside of it)

Jerico Drank his tea, while his carts sat besides him curled up in a ball.

--So,jerico right?--engie said

--Yeah,whats up?

--Why dontcha tell Us about yourself huh?

Jers hand buttonned Up his shirt as he finally realized he was still in his pjs.

--Well,i moved in with my dad when I was a teen,worked in a bakery--scout chuckled condecenfingly--wich means I can make better pies than scout,and I Will not leave a fork inside of it,a part time artist, when I was like....twenty I did my phd in Steam powered engenieering,and when I could id go learn blacksmithing in one of my dads Friends house,nothing much

--nothin freaking much?!--scout said surprised-- you learnt blacksmithing and you think thats nothing much?

Jeri laughed snorting--well yeah blacksmithing is pretty cool

The Bostonian boy sunk in his chair and hid his face with his cap, as his cheeks Turned Pink.

--Oh and engie,I have the blueprints done,we can get to work in the wiring after this

--Alrighty then!

The rest of the breakfast was spent in quiet chatter, and jerico went to take a shower, closing the courtain.

The warn water hit his body and his shoulders and back relaxed.

He stretched his neck and washed his hair.

After the bath, he changed and went to Grab the blueprints and the notes he'd made in the notebook spy gave him.

He Walked to the door of his room,feeling excited to make this proyect of his into reality.

#tw//trigger mention #tw:trigger mention #🔥⚒toughesr coppersmith around⚒🔥#f/o fic

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