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15607 No. 15607 Locked Stickied hide watch quickreply [Reply]
Hello my darlings,

I am the current mastermind behind the TF2chan Archive site that will house our fanfiction and fanart of the past. I need your help. This is a community effort.

I need any of you who have edited your fanart and fanfiction to email me the revised copies of said fanart and fanfiction so we can have an up-to-date posting of your work. Please include the name of fanfiction and your chan name when doing so, in order for me to identify who you are.

Email is available above. I'll gladly answer questions and concerns as well. The site is to-be-announced at this moment. Cheers.


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15732 No. 15732 hide watch quickreply [Reply]
>>9005

Hello, and I am NOT the person who wrote teh incredible story called "DEMOMAN - SOLDIER". I am of the enjoying of that fic, but I was really sad that no more was written so I got a sandwich and ate it and now I write story of the adventure of the romance of the demoman who is of the drunk and the soldier who is of the gay.

I write highly original story right now.
_________________________________________________

The soldier was reading the new number of Guns and Haircuts magazine over his TV, RED Demoman blows the door and says "LET'S GO FOR SOME CHICKS AND GET DRUNK LAD!"

And BLU Soldier says "NEGATIVE"

"WHY?"

"BECAUSE MY NAME IS JANE AND ALL THE CHICKS WILL LAUGH AT ME"

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No. 15728 hide watch quickreply [Reply]
First bit of a idea that popped into my head. Will eventually be Sniper/Spy. Not fluffy.
--------------------------------------------
The BLU Sniper squinted against the late afternoon sun. He was stretched out along the wooden floor of the highest room in the BLU compound, peering down on the battlefield below through one of the two windows. A bead of sweat ran down his scalp to his temple, pausing before it slid down his cheek. The showers would be cool welcome relief after this heavy heat. It had been a slow day so far; the end to an even slower week. Patient man or not, his finger itched for the trigger. Perhaps, he thought, it was time to find a new vantage point.

Sniper had been camping out in this particular room during the daily battles for about a month. It was likely the REDs had caught on, finding ways to navigate outside the range of his deadly riffle. This meant that he would have to scout out new positions after this battle, regrettably postponing his shower, and testing the most promising during the next battle. This was not unexpected, but was unfortunate.

Not unexpected because in the 28 weeks he had spent working for BLU, he had not managed to find a single position the REDs didn’t wise up to eventually. Unfortunate because Sniper had found that this particular location seemed to present some sort of obstacle to the RED Spy. The past month had been hot and cramped, but blissfully stab-free.

Sniper paused his vigil, taking a hand off of his riffle to scratch an itch on his back.

The Red Spy, like all Spies, was a bastard.

He took obvious pleasure in his underhand methods for disposing of his enemies. Sniper was no nancy-boy; fire and bullets he could handle just fine, but he cringed at the memories of waking with a gasp in re-spawn, squirming at the ghostly phantom of a butterfly knife sliding into his back. The Marksman got goose bumps thinking about it.

Sniper’s thoughts were interrupted by a flash of motion in his peripheral vision. He brought his hand back to his weapon and shuffled on his elbows, pivoting the riffle so he could get a better look through th
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>> No. 15729
>he cringed at the memories of waking with a gasp in re-spawn, squirming at the ghostly phantom of a butterfly knife sliding into his back.

This sounds much sexier than it has any right to.

...Continue.
>> No. 15730
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15730
more please ♥
>> No. 15731
this is amazing. i love your writing style, it's so vivid. more please.

also, just a side note, rifle is spelled with one 'f'. my inner grammar nazi forced me to tell you that. sorry if i'm being an asshole, i'll shut up now.


No. 15351 hide watch expand quickreply [Reply] [Last 50 posts]
This is to fill a request. Obviously incomplete, will try my best to finish future chapters when I have time. Doesn't get into adult material until later. And yes, I am aware that there are several parts that are inaccurate to TF2. Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The BLU Soldier ran quickly around the corner, narrowly dodging a bullet to the head. Only when he had practically thrown himself to the ground and rammed the wooden door shut did he loudly curse and grab his left arm. He had not expected the REDs having a sniper, and the bullet lodged in his arm made it even more impossible to return fire at the unseen assassin.

Slowly he rose, using his right arm to apply pressure on his left arm. "Son of a bitch," he said, more closely examining his wound, seeing that the bullet had gone completely through his arm. If he didn't get to the BLU Medic soon, he knew he wouldn't last long. With only one arm, the only weapon he could potentially use would be his shovel, and there would be no way he could use it against the sniper, even if he somehow managed to take out the other RED.

He knew that there were only two REDs left, the sniper and one other unknown recruit, probably a scout. The Demoman had taken out their demoman and a soldier before being exploded by the other soldier. Luckily the BLU Sniper nailed him in the head before he could kill anyone else, leaving the REDs without any soldiers, making it easy for the BLU Soldier to take out the RED Medic, but that was when the RED sniper killed the other BLU soldier he was with, and only narrowly missing the BLU Soldier and the BLU Medic.

He wasn't sure how many BLUs were left. He knew the Demoman was gone, he saw his fellow Soldier die to the sniper, but he knew the BLU Medic was safe, and taking cover somewhere in the room, possibly behind one of the large saws. He himself had seen to it that the Medic was the first to the shelter, risking his own life in the process. He wasn't sure if the BLU Sniper was alive or out fighting the RED Sniper, and he had no idea where the BLU Pyro had run off to, as he had only seen he for a short whil
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>> No. 15725
Next post is update. Again, I am aware that this is not realistic. Keep in mind that not dying after getting headshotted is also realistic: I'm trying to balance these two. However that does not mean that criticism is discouraged, please just make sure it has not already been addressed. Thanks.
>> No. 15726
He had not have even noticed how close the sniper was, until he felt his breath up against his face. He opened his eyes wide, and made a gasping noise and he made big breaths.

The sniper whispered into his ear, "It was me. I saw what you did, I took the pictures. And I know what you like." His left hand started creeping down the spy's torso, running over the bloody cuts he had left, over the mangled patch of flesh, and lower still.

"Non Tireur!" The spy declared his words loudly, but a partially raised eyebrow revealed an underlying fear.

The sniper stopped, and slowly moved his hand higher, until he reached the shiv in the spy's shoulder. Almost carefully, he pulled the knife out, and slowly moved it so the point pressed up from underneath the spy's chin. The spy grunted, and winced his eyes, having difficulty overcoming the thought of the impending torture.

The sniper whispered in the same low tone, "I'm tired of hearing you speak. Bite your tongue off." He thrust the knife up a little, but was careful not to pierce the spy. "Or I will."

The spy's temples throbbed, and he barely had the sense to keep himself from turning his head to the side. But he knew he had no choice, so he pushed his tongue out a bit, and chomped down with his canine. It had even helped release some of the pain that furiously shot up from his leg. He pressed his left heel up against the wall, and bit until he felt the muscle tear, and pushed the unripped part bit harder. His mouth began to throb, and blood began to soak the cut off piece of meat.

"Let me see." The spy's chest was pounding, his face was sweating so hard, he barely heard the command. Though he wanted to push down on the end of his tongue, he complied, and revealed the severed end, about a third of the visible section of tongue, the bottom covering a small pool of blood. The sniper gently pulled the end out, using just two fingers of his left hand. "Only the nub," he muttered.

The spy's head was throbbing, and he wished there was something to press against his tongue
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>> No. 15727
>>15725
I should have said not dying after getting headshotted is also not realistic. My bad.


No. 15124 hide watch expand quickreply [Reply]
Hello everyone, lurker here deciding to finally post something. (A very nervous lurker that, took 20 minutes to get enough courage to hit the 'Submit' button)

This is my first post on this site, hopefully I am doing everything right and won't get anybody upset with me. I am not the best writer and this is the first time I have written anything with so much sexual content; so I am sorry if anything is wrong with it. I did try my best to keep the characters true to the canon style when I wrote this, but I can't promise perfection. Any criticism will be greatly appreciated.

This was written at the request of a good friend of mine and is dedicated to her. (You know who you are!) I let her pick the subject, pairing and the items used in this, so that's why they are in here. I also give credit to Prawnsy, Kilo the Monster, Wilson, Cat Bountry, and the other people on TF2chan for being such amazing writers and artists that have done such beautiful work.

This story takes place after the war between RED and BLU has ended and BLU Engineer and BLU Soldier are living together. There is a minor character I created in here, but she's just a neighbor to the main characters and doesn't play a huge role.

Other then that I have nothing to say except thank you for reading this and enjoy.

___________________________________________

"Mine"

Engineer was furious. Normally he considered himself a pretty calm and level-headed guy, not easily angered and quick to forgive. Of course, ever since Soldier moved back to Texas with him, things had become far from normal.
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>> No. 15714
>>15616
>>15620
>>15623
>>15624
>>15696
>>15713
I am glad you guys enjoyed it. I'm trying to come up with new ones but between college, and my own writers block, I've been having difficulty.

If anyone wants to suggest some ideas or requests for certain characters, then go for it and I'll see what I can do. (Though I will probably be posting the next ones in their own thread in the Fanfiction section)
>> No. 15716
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15716
>>15609
Oh God Solly, you card.

Lighten up on him, Engie. He just wanted to bake you a cake to show his love because he has trouble expressing himself. Now eat that gunpowder cake or he'll think you don't love him.
>> No. 15718
>>15609
My brothers apparently channeled Solly when we were growing up.

I must say, I like the idea of this becoming a series, however these last two would belong in fanfic so maybe you should move the next non-porn ones over there?

regardless, you have yourself a fan now, like it or not.


No. 14312 hide watch expand quickreply [Reply]
This is an imitation of the "On the Road" scroll with Scout and Sniper as Neal and Jack (the raddest bromance of all). Best viewed at 8 1/2" with 1" margins. (I'm not certain if this is "Adult" or not.) The French is fixed, the underlines are fixed. Thanks to everyone for your help.



I first startarted bumming around with Scout a few years after the war ended and a few before that war ended which was never a war, really, and this was long before I realised that neither war really had a beginning or an end and that all of them just ran into eachother, willrun into each other til the end of time, but more about that later. Scout had decided that night he was “just stahvin for a taco” and I had to reflect that sentiment. We were both coming down and Scout was certain that he was the fitter of the two of us to drive, I could not object. He had only done “just a little speed and some mescaline.” “Where'd you get mescaline?” “Where didn't I get mescaline.” That's when I knew I would never get a straight answer out of him for anything, as if I ever wanted one. We left and very shortly I knew we wouldn't just be getting tacos. “I need to see the Medic,” he said and gave me a cheeky bloody wink and while we were driving he told me about his awesome life: running, literally, from one girl to the next high, to the next girl to the next high, to a few men in between, mostly for the money. “I'm the fastest hand in Boston!” I believed him about that mostly business and I didn't question him further on it. We arrived at Medic's place and before the engine stopped, Scout had bounded over the carhood and was screaming into the building's intercom, “I'M HYEAH TA BUY!” We were buzzed in. While dazed and lumbering halfway up the steps, he'd already reached his destination but immediately raced back down to intercept me, “Come on, old man, you're holding up the mission!” “Gwaawn, I'm not that much older than you!” “You are.” “
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>> No. 15186
I am intrigued.
>> No. 15711
Continued:



He gave Tavish and I each a broad Lady M grin, “We're gonna be eating at nothing but dive truck stops until we get there. I hope yaw'll are ready for that. I'm gonna show you Realamerica.” In a mockery of assurance, he took my shoulder and blasted his stereo until we could all feel the bass. Tavish rolled into a comfortable position and passed out. After about ten songs, I saw through the BONK! haze a vision of Realamerica: sprawling history, drungo bravery, infinite roads, infinite fields, bogan royalty, fast music, fast cars and women of indeterminate speed. Our first stop was a place called Amish Mama. I thought the three of us would make quite a motley clusterbang but truly, we weren't even close. There were all kinds of aging hippies, grizzled truckers, stoned out college students, an Amish cadre, and one uncomfortable family. We found a booth; we looked at the menu. Everything had to have a cute name like Reubenspringa or Shunningly Good Cheese Curds. DeGroot had the “Community” Turkey Club. Scout had the “English” Fish and Chips and I had the “Bavarian Liturgical Tradition”. DeGroot told us about his life after the war. “I'm at Aber-bloodeh-deen teaching literature.” “You talk about Robert Burns all day?” “No. Well, yes, but no. We talk about structure and we deconstruct.” “Which you know a thing or two about.” “I fookin know everything about that. And I still hunt Nessie.” “Oh, gwaawn!” “I believe in it as much as you, BUT once you're on the Loch at night, the monster becomes more real than rational thought, anything measurable, even yourself, even the terror you're feeling. It is nothing short of transcendence.” “We call that a walkabout.” “We call that walking home from the bar.” We ate our lunches and when we finished, we took a pissbreak. I was ready to drive again when Scout pulled out two stacks of 8tracks “Hank or Loretta?” I turned the key and that descending guitar line slapped us in the face. DeGroot sang: “A-you've been makin yer brags around town that you've
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>> No. 15712
This is cool; I've gotten so use to reading 'On The Road' for my English class. They actually required that we read the scroll version.

And I'm digging it. Especially any mentions of book depositories around Sniper.


No. 15601 hide watch expand quickreply [Reply]
Awright, I haven't written anything in a while. All I managed was to squeeze out this bit of baww. Hardly even 'adult' themed. Eh.
-------------------------------------------

The BLU Medic had a problem. He was aware of it; he had been diagnosed at age seventeen. However, he had also been treated for it. The treatment was rigorous (torturous) and he had managed to act as though he was cured. It had been just that- an act, clumsy and halting- but he had convinced himself that he would become more natural in time. It had proven difficult, dull and distasteful, and he had eventually given up in favour of ignoring the topic altogether. Now, though, on the Coldfront base, miles from civilization, he was having trouble keeping his problem out of his mind.

He wanted to blame the woman, to say that she had been ugly, or frigid, or stupid. She wasn’t though, not any of those things. Lilli was charming, intelligent, a sparkling conversationalist, and a lissome blonde textbook case of female loveliness. Every other man in the German garrison had been envious, wondering aloud why she had chosen him. He had wondered, too- Lilli had said it was because he was the only one who genuinely seemed to like her. He did like her, and when she took him to bed, he rejoiced in being completely cured. However, for all her lusty enthusiasm, all her playful willingness, sharing a bed with her had been a chore. Even the basic physical release was muted and uncertain.

The Medic also wanted to blame the Heavy. Nothing about the big Russian was muted or uncertain. Noisy, boisterous, overwhelmingly physical, he filled every available space from edge to edge. Of course this made him the centre of attention when he was in the room. However, wasn’t his fault that he inhabited the Medic’s mind at night. When the Medic was in his bunk alone, his mind dwelt on his large teammate- the muscles in his shoulders, the glint in his eyes, his booming laugh. The Russian had taken to rubbing the Medic’s shoulders after battle, rough squeezes along his aching trapezius where the Medigun harness dug in. He couldn’t be expected to account for the German’s unwholesome r
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>> No. 15667
Marty, after playing medic, checking tf2chan, seeing gullie from street fighter, and seeing your name next to the author, i couldent have had a better day. what ever you write is a MASTERPEICE
>> No. 15675
Oh man. Poor, poor BLU.

I hope you guys get around to that RP. Sounds mighty interesting, and I wouldn't mind some more well-written heartache.
>> No. 15710
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15710
>>15606
>Medic, Heavy and a sauna
Oh my god, YES.


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15653 No. 15653 hide watch expand quickreply [Reply]
I was inspired to write a ‘Medic and You’ fic because of RobotLyra. Like her fic, this one is also gender neutral. While the medic in here noticeably shares kinks with my OC medic Jaeger Reinhardt (with the glove and touch kink focus of the fic), I leave him a nameless BLU Medic so anyone can enjoy this reading as they imagine fit. I also wanted to keep the talking responses of ‘you’ to a minimum so you can imagine yourself in the role, or things you would say.

Note this fic has Medigun kink too. ENJOY!



Your stay with Builder’s League has been relativity uneventful besides the assigned work on your docket. You were hired by BLU and shipped out to a supply station base called ‘Well’ to tune up their automatic train systems. According to what you were told; their rival company, Reliable Excavation Division, is vying for the same land and train lines...hence all the noise you hear during the day as hired mercenaries protect what is rightfully BLU’s.

Your tour was nearly over…working in the quiet afternoons while the mercenaries were in their respective bases. Everything was fine; that is until you slipped and bashed your arm on a broken guard rail.

You were told not to interact with the private ‘army’, but you don’t trust the gash along your forearm. You tried to dress the wound yourself but that rail was rusty, you could get an infection. You know there is a team medic; what harm could it do to run in and ask for a quick healing? Both of you work for the same company, after all.

*Knock Knock*

You tentatively rap on the steel infirmary doors. It’s just become dark outside; most of the other mercenaries are asleep or in their quarters.
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>> No. 15707
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15707
>>15706
I concur.
MOAR PLEASE
>> No. 15708
By the way has anyone ever done a Medic & You fic where Medic bottoms? Would be interesting to see that.
>> No. 15709
>>15708
This. This. So. Much.


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15402 No. 15402 hide watch expand quickreply [Reply]
So I write like once a year? But people seem to kinda like it when I do, so I'm trying to make a habit of sorts out of it. On that note, I hope this suffices, TF2 fandom. (Gets into /afanfic/ territory a couple chapters in, natch.)

--------

Strange to say, but in hindsight, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for Sniper and I to become friends.

I mean that it was strange in that, well, it wasn’t as if our jobs brought us into contact with one another all that often – I could go entire battles without seeing, let alone speaking, to him. But off the field, after the fighting, we had drifted into a comfortable sort of camaraderie. For all that our jobs may have been wildly different, once you got down to it, we were actually pretty similar. Now, I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself taciturn, but I didn’t run my head like Soldier or Scout, so it seemed when Sniper got the itch for conversation he knew where he wouldn’t get too much of it. And we had both spent time under big, endless skies – Bee Cave was plenty close to Austin, but between PhDs I had spent some time out in the west Texas oil fields. Fewer animals that could and would kill you if given half a chance, and more danger of being blown right up. And for all that his father might call him a crazed gunman, I don’t reckon there was anyone on the team more affable and easy-going off the clock. So we got on well, and as the months wore on, it became something of a habit for us to make out way up to the battlements in the evening, to drink coffee and talk. Sometimes I may have run off into technical details, and sometimes Sniper lost me when he went on about things more quintessentially Australian, but, well, that was alright.

Things started to go a little pear-shaped after everyone found out about Medic and Heavy – I’m not exactly clear on the details, but considering the noise Scout made about it, I’m willing to bet the kid walked in on them. But then, considering one of the parties was Heavy, there wasn’t much he or anyone else could do but make noise. (“Anyone”, in this case, was referring to the Soldier, who claimed the only thing worse than Commies
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>> No. 15644
>>15526

NGHHHHHHHH
Goddamn you, now I'm all bothered at work and I can't do anything about it.

Also you make me want to draw after not drawing for the past 4 months. Friggin A, fish
>> No. 15645
>>15644

OH MAN.

That is awesome. <3
>> No. 15702
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15702
FISH IS CREDIT TO TEAM!


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15468 No. 15468 hide watch expand quickreply [Reply]
You can blame my sibling for this nonsense. Critique is welcomed, there will be more.

---------------------

How did it come to this point? I can’t remember. I never could remember things very well. I’m always a split second ahead of the now. Living in the moment. Spur of the second. Thinking takes time, makes you hesitate. I was hesitating now, but reeling for the reason why.

“You cannot stand there for an eternity, boy.”

“I don’t plan on it, frenchie.”

//

“YEAHA-HAA!” Whooping triumph burst from the Scout as he hit the dirt, smirking at his trophy. The Soldier floated face down in the greenish waters, deader’n a doornail. “Betcha didn’t even see me comin’ ya big dope.”

He didn’t have to look around to tell the field was clear, his ears told him enough. Despite the bedlam of noise endured by each member of the team every day their hearing was sharper than ever, as it had to be. Scout began reloading, fingers deft in their work popping out the old shells, snapping in the new and clapping the gun shut. Collecting himself, Scout put his enthusiasm to work fueling a sprint that took him up and deep into the BLU base.
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>> No. 15643
>>15641
I sure don't blame them for wanting a piece of Scout, lol.
>> No. 15678
Your writing's really very nice. I especially like certain little touches you add to their characterization that just ring true. Your interpretation of Sniper in particular appeals to me.

That being said- and, no intent to provoke rage or derail your thread here, please oh please- I just feel like I have to point something out. The fact that more than a couple people are probably attracted to Scout and will get with him at some point, despite there being little reason for them to do so, reminds me of a certain character from a certain vampire-themed series.

There's nothing in particular /wrong/ with this story, please don't misunderstand. I'm just frustrated that this sort of PWP, rape-but-then-he-likes-it, no-history-or-reason-to-suddenly-be-gay, oft-used plot device gets criticized in a lot of fics for other pairings, sometimes very harshly... but then it's like if Scout takes it up ass then the author can do no wrong. Scout's the fandom bicycle and that's totally understandable for many reasons, but I just wish people would chill out and stop being hypocritical, closeted shipping-warriors.

Apologies to the author for critique thats more on critiquers than on the story.
>> No. 15693
Its absolutely okay to speak your mind! I love for everyone to get to say their piece in any comment they leave. I can understand where you're coming from and while so far things are revolving around Scout, I do have my own plans for things. It's taking me longer to write this next chapter because work and school aside, I've been continually trying to decide just exactly where I want this fic to go, and I want to try and begin steering in a direction with the next installment. :) I hope Scout being a bit of a center point doesn't ruin the whole fic experience for you!


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