|1||Adult Request Thread Pre-emptive Strike||683||23 November 2011 04:52|
|2||Trio (Solly/Demo/Engie)||71||10 March 2014 22:57|
|3||classcest party thread over here||11||10 March 2014 00:17|
|4||if you request it i will probably write it||47||28 February 2014 12:34|
|5||Tender [Engineer/Spy; AU]||5||27 February 2014 03:44|
|6||"Sniper in the Middle" (Team gangbang on Sniper)||2||21 February 2014 04:43|
|7||Any class and you?||154||18 February 2014 03:14|
|8||Null Our Boor; or: Taco Run||35||14 February 2014 22:30|
|9||little boy blue||55||10 February 2014 08:44|
|10||SECRET SANTA FIC GIFTS 2013||16||24 January 2014 07:11|
|11||Mark of the Beast||11||14 January 2014 08:06|
|12||Sweet Nothings||4||10 January 2014 12:57|
|13||Too Many Damn Snipers||32||6 January 2014 11:20|
|14||Dominique (The Rewrite - Continued) - Tentaspy/Engineer||92||30 December 2013 17:35|
|15||The Dust Never Truly Settles||5||24 December 2013 11:52|
|New Thread | All Threads|
Okay, the newer one has already started to auto-sage. It's currently still on the front page but it has fallen past the line where we'll have to start clicking All Threads in order to see it.
Here is the link to it and the ones before it. Lots of great requests still in these!
I'm going to repost the two most recent ones from the most recent thread.
I know this is mostly requests for new stuff, but I haven't been here in a while and I'm having trouble finding an old fanfic. It was Engie x You, started with ambiguous-gender-ness and then had two endings, one for M and one for F.
A love letter to Marty and all the other Demo lovers on the Chan.
Hit a dead end on Duo - my Scout/Medic fanfic, and decided it was because I needed another story to work on til inspiration comes-a knockin'. So I went onto what was next on the list. Enjoy.
Soldier smirked under the rim of his helmet as he eyed his prize. Engineer was hogtied wrist to ankle, in nothing but a cowboy hat and a pair of spurred cowboy boots. He looked absolutely delectable kneeling on the ground like that, a horse bit wedged between his teeth, making coherent speech nearly impossible. His erection stood at full attention, with sweet precum bubbling at the tip.
Soldier circled around him like a vulture, eating the sight up. Engineer watched him, his breath fast paced and irregular, cheeks flushed, and eyes glittering with sinful passion.
Finally, Soldier stopped before the hardy Texan, and nudged the erection with the tip of his vintage Mantreads. His smirk only grew as he saw the way Engineer shuddered and tried to arch into his boot for more. “You love that, don’t you,” came the hoarse whisper.
Soldier was still fully clothed, sporting a plain white tee and his standard issue blue slacks. Even through the loose fabric, his erection was making itself painfully known. When the company-issued vacation came up, he and Engineer decided to visit Las Vegas for some private time together.
Best. Idea. Ever.
Very well written piece! I like the tension that is in this between Dell and Tavish. So many stories have the "third person busts in and is immediately invited to join," which is just so unbelievable. Do go on.
I'll start with Spycest, the prompt was "Spy/anyone, fancy cheeses." Feel free to
The rest of the team assumed he had been to see his lady love that weekend. And indeed, the Spy had taken the first available flight out of the local airport to Boston, but not to visit his little cauliflower. As much as it pained him to admit, he had left the base to indulge a far more selective taste. Wine and women, he could eventually find out here, though perhaps not quite to his standards. Fine cheeses, however, were near impossible to locate, of any quality other than that oily prepackaged swill the other men willingly put in their sandwiches and consumed.
He ate a sandwich once, in the middle of battle, injured and in desperate need of healing. He vowed to never put himself in the position of requiring one again.
When the Spy was certain the team had gone to bed for the night, he slipped out of his room and fled to the kitchen in shameful silence. There, in the refrigerator, in a paper sack labeled “dead dove, don’t open” and which had been clearly opened at least twice then hastily closed back, he retrieved a small ripe wedge of Roquefort. Tucked behind a six pack of Red Shed, he found his prized Chevrot, and squirreled away in the rarely-used vegetable bin, a piece of Manchego. With care, he set the cheeses out on the cleanest plate he could find, admiring their colors even in the fluorescent lights. A flick of his knife sliced each wedge into a few bite-size pieces, fanned out to best showcase their unique textures.
The Spy quietly uncorked a bottle of wine, a pricey sauvignon blanc he had been hoarding since his last trip to civilization, and filled a glass. A handful of raisins and some soda crackers that had seen fresher days would help cleanse the palate in between nibbles of cheese. The contents of the plate made for a rather tragic picture, nothing like the decadent displays of his own country, when he could count on a wine and cheese tasting every other week, no repeats for at least a year. And yet, the Spy could not help smiling a little at
Thanks, I do appreciate the feedback. I don't have any prompts for Heavycest or Soldicest or Engicest, and only one for Medicest, and I am not feeling the prompts for Pyrocest or Scoutcest mostly because I would like to avoid writing those two, so it looks like... Medicest is next. (Unless someone else wants to join in???!!!)
hello friends, i am the anon that wrote the "in the dark" thread. and i wrote the random fic from the "webcam chat" thread. i want to write and be more active, but i am terrible at ideas.
solution: give me requests. i'm pretty much okay with every pairing and every kink that isn't like... super gross.
on to the fucking!
(sorry for my english, its not my first language)
It a VERY long request (its more of a personal vent TBH)
So,I would really REALLY like to see a SniperxMedic story that I had in my head for a while. With multiple teams, ones normal and one full of psico freaks.
I had an idea (but I'm so bad at writing...) where, in the normal team, there are 2 medics: one sadic and more "meet the medic" stiles, and one gentler. The gentler one is in some kind of relationship with the sniper (just a start like in http://games.adult-fanfiction.org/story.php?no=600084408) but he get assigned to the freak team (they miss a medic because he decided to kill the previous soldier and take his place).
Now, thing start getting pretty much fucked up because, the freak group is composed by 3 old nazi that escaped trials by joining the mercs (I thought Pyro, medic/soldier and heavy), a subtle russian spy with no heart, a barely sane engie who keeps up by standing away from the rest of the team during ceased fire and a very dark and Psicopath Sniper (CBS whould be the best for this part).
Gentle medic (I called him Joseph but if someone would ever think about writing this thing, can call him whatever he want) is cornered fro the begin by the nazi group but he's able to avoid them for some time (at some point they catch him and mark a svastica with a burning iron in his chest).
Meanwhile, (before the marking) he got friend with the sniper, who misunderstood all the gentle care of the medic for something different.
After the marking event, the sniper told him to hide in his van.
(I imagined this particular sniper like some kind of villain for and old horror movie, the kind of bad guy always two feet in front of you and basically unkillable)He goes to the trio and beat the shit out of them, telling them to not touch "his" medic again unless they want to keep their organs inside.
When the sniper got back to the van, covered in blood, medic is preoccuped and run to him to check for injury. Unfortunatly for him, this only make the brutal sniper believe in his personal, crazy world wher
A story about Dell, a wealthy, celibate scientist, his four adopted children, and the man who is probably going to break his heart.
Pairings: a LOT of this is GEN, but the main pairing is Engineer/Spy. Minor pairings include Heavy/Medic + many more (mostly slash/femslash) pairings.
This is an AU filled with general domesticity, fluff, and angst. Contains slight crossover (other valve games) and sci-fi elements. Some characters have been aged down drastically to fit the purposes of this story.
(This fic has a slow build and will not be /afic/ for a while, but it will have sex, so I hope it's alright to save the trouble of two different threads and just go ahead and post it here.)
Prologue, Part One:
The offers to join them started before the alarms. Dell had laughed off the prospect of a ride-along initially, but when the bustle of an emergency erupted through the fire station, his indecision about joining them was all kinds of inappropriate in its delay of their departure, and he found himself being pulled into the firetruck by a man he had only just met three hours ago.
Three hours... it had never been his intention to stay that long. The visit was meant to be a small meet and greet, an obligation to shake the hands of the men and women who ran the fire station before he donated a large chunk of money to their facility. He always turned out to be a sucker for the social aspect, even though he usually dreaded public appearances and generally wished philanthropy didn't require the ground-work it did.
Thank you so much for the interest.
I welcome any nitpicking, especially since my characterizations tend to be a bit on the wacky side (as evidenced later on in the story). Even if I can't undo any of the characterizations I've already written into this fic, I will certainly strive to develop the characters here into something closer to their in-game selves.
Since this AU doesn't contain any of the characters ever having been in any war/in-game situations, I am going to have to find other ways to incorporate aspects of their personality that the events in-game bring out.
Thanks for that reminder, I really needed that.
Prologue, Part Two:
Morning light was flooding in through the windows before Dell finally left Scout's hospital room. He had arranged an emergency sleepover for Paulie at her best friend's house so that he didn't have to leave Scout's side. It had all been for nothing though, because when a nurse came to inform them that evacuations had stopped hours ago, and that no one matching the kid's description had been admitted to the hospital, the kid was devastated, which was expected.
What wasn't expected were the harsh glares through tears and an irrefutable accusation that it was all Dell's fault.
It had been surprisingly hard to hear and Dell had found himself tearing up, floundering in his own inability to form a meaningful reply. He had no business arguing with the kid's logic, as flawed as it was. After it was clear that any attempt at comfort was a lost cause, and his presence was only turning the kid's grief into anger, Dell excused himself with one last misty apology.
It had been a long night.
He was still crouched in the hall outside the kid's room with the heels of his palms digging into his eyes when footsteps stopped in front of him.
"... Engineer? What are you doing here?"
Dell snapped to attention at the sound of his friend's voice. "Medic?"
a/n: (I'm beginning to feel like this is just going to seem like some sort of bizarre ABC Family show... I'm so sorry.)
Dell couldn't remember the last time he had been roused from sleep by the smell of a cooking breakfast. Had it been during Mundy's last visit? The man preferred campfires to stoves, but he could make a mean omelet.
Home cooked meals were an area Dell was skilled in, and as such it was always him who was up early, surprising a friend or a child with breakfast. Along with the scent of bacon, eggs and toast came a wave of nostalgia; it had usually always been his late mother rousing the house with a warm meal, but that was a long time ago.
Dell could only bask in the old memories for a moment before crashing back to reality with the realization that the other occupants of the house could barely operate a toaster, let alone maneuver a skillet. Dell was ready to throw his covers off and scramble downstairs to assess the damage when a loud thump sounded outside his bedroom door.
“Aw, jeez.” The voice that filtered through the door was filled with a domestic sort of annoyance but nothing more. If Dell had started panicking, he wasn’t anymore.
There was some shuffling outside before the handle was turned, and the door was eased open with a sock clad foot. The teenager entered looking as if he was trying to regain proper balance, eyes focused on the tray in his arms. Dell considered feigning sleep but felt silly at the mere thought. Instead, he sat up against the headboard. The boy’s eyes left the tray and met Dell’s when he heard the rustling sheets.
Team gangbang on Sniper (minus Scout, sorry couldn’t see him getting in on it). Sudden and dubcon, but has aftercare and is not violent (Also includes lube and condoms! Blame medic.)
I whipped this fic up for my girlfriend who wanted slut sniper. Posting here cause I only threw it on tumblr and figured peeps over here might also want to read. Sorry for any grammar errors I did not get a beta (feel free to point them out, I'll fix it on the tumblr post). http://lithefider.tumblr.com/post/77329123244/tf2-fic-sniper-in-the-middle-everyone-x-sniper
Thought the RED Sniper as he sat on the toilet seat cover of the medical bay bathroom, staring at the cup he was supposed to be putting a urine sample in. But instead, all he was doing was stroking his hard cock while biting back groans.
He’d been horny all day. The kind of horny that even made him pause between his work on the field and have to take care of himself. He usually didn’t let such urges interfere with work...he was a professional. But today, it was like he was in heat or something. He just fucking wanted it.
But he couldn’t properly wank himself off while bullets were whizzing about, even from the safety of his nest. He was looking forward to some time alone in his van, undisturbed...but NO. Medic had to call everyone in for urine samples right after the cease fire bell because ‘the well water might be tainted’ or some bullshit.
I've been a thread stalker for a couple of months for a fanfic and I was wondering if there is anyone who can still make those kinds of fics now these days? If so, feel free to put it here.
I personally think any class for the Tenta!You would work fine. <spoiler>Spy might be the best though - there's something that's just so "HNNNNNGH" about Tentaspies.</spoiler> Though I must say that the most effective regular human Class in the pairing would have to be Scout. In my experience with TF2 fic, he seems to be the least open to anything that isn't vanilla man-on-woman.
<spoiler>Aaaand Kaptain Kritrawket proves that she's a sucker for dub-con fics.</spoiler>
Shit. I'm having trouble deleting my last post so I can edit it, I'll just say it here. Also, why didn't my spoiler tags work? I've never had trouble with it before.
Anyway, I think Tenta!You (any Class) x Scout would be best. Seeing as Scout is generally portrayed with a lack of openness to different kinds of relationships beyond man-on-woman, I see the most potential there for character development and an ongoing story - and I've seen some excellent multi-part fics in this thread. I know it can be done, and I'd love to see it.
My On the Road/TF2 pastiche.
I first startarted bumming around with Scout a few years after the war ended and a few before war ended which was never a war, , 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 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.” “You just seem young cause you still act like a teenager.” The door opened. “Aw, gawddammit!” “C'est le plus plaisir de vous-rencontre, aussi. You've brought another friend, I see.” “Saloooo!” I called out. A plain, unmasked face suddenly appeared and I was taken aback, we
Dr Conagher had no patience for small talk. It always involved projecting feelings upon events you were powerless to change: mother's health, the decline of Western Civilization, the weather. To Dell, this seamed like a very cheaterly way to talk about God without talking about religion. Thus: never explicitly stated as such, but His displeasure was marked by precipitation of any kind or too much cloud cover, and somehow this transferred to your own personal narrative. A well-lived life was indicated by the most observed changes in barometric pressure.
Tavish was only indirectly aware of the effects that the Great War had on his country, when people talked of before, society became a construction that rivalled the Roman aqueducts: balance and precariousness somehow melded into strength. Now—the word always emerged with a sound that suggested gagging on treacle or laudanum—in an attempt to repair that great structure, we could only come up with several outdoor loos. Devices such as these had never inconvenienced the residents of Degroot Manor.
Medic would declare this century as the worst, mind you, fully aware of the array of atrocities throughout history. He imagined the industrialization of the process was meant to abdicate the cruelty involved (well, on one side at least); the ultimate effect was enough distance to make the cruelty immeasurable. Screams and eye contact make for an entirely different experience. The inquisitions had spectacle at least; and at this, he allowed a dark chuckle to escape.
Since there is no such thing as luck, it must follow that there is no honor in surviving adversity. You could claim horror at the more recent purges, but you would be exercising a willful ignorance of the prior purges, pogroms and poverty that nearly defines the country—the broadness of the land made having a definite identity impossible, not that there weren't attempts. To witness this (as Heavy had) meant that one's life was only to accumulate choices between terror and guilt, if you had the good fortune to be given a choice.
The British claim to dominance, mused sniper, rested exclusively on the play
“Try to remember the worst thing you’ve ever done. You needn’t tell me.”
“Yes. What now?”
“Do you associate this event with a choice or a compulsion?”
Medic considered this briefly. “There was a clear sense of urgency, as best it can be described with respect to discretion.”
“With respect to discretion, were the rules of ethics or morality suspended in this moment of indiscretion if your act was so compelled?”
Medic answered very carefully, “It feels as if yes and no could be correct in the same instant.”
“That is the essence of post-modernism this goes for science as well as art. Heisenberg discovered what literature has known for centuries; objectivity is the least objective of all experiences.”
“And now empiricism has to be re-examined? Along with logic and simple arithmetic, I can go back to testing a person’s humors, supposedly?”
team/spy abuse, part 1 of 2
He kept his eyes open while they fucked him. Even when he could not discern much more than a hulking shadow, grunting and thrusting above his line of sight, he never took his gaze away. It did not make things any less bearable in the end, he could hardly pretend they were anyone else but his own teammates. But he told himself to look, to not cover his eyes, and before he realized it, they had finished, the shadow would become a man again, and it was time to clean up and get ready for the next.
They never took long with him. Not this far out from town, from a woman’s embrace, from any other sort of release from boredom.
He could not guess whose idea it was, and did not want to know, but perhaps they had intended this for him from the start. Better him, then, he had eventually concluded, after that first time with Scout, who broke down and cried pitifully in relief in his arms. At least he knew what to do, to soothe the rage and lust that drove a powerful man, how to please and flatter the ones he worked with, even if he could not hope to receive any valuable bits of pillow talk to use against their opponents.
Well, nothing he could use in the battlefield, at any rate.
The second time was less awkward, and by the fourth time, he felt a sort of insane sense of accomplishment. Then they started the hitting. And he could not help but wonder how the friendly fire mechanism never broke down during those long nights, even when it always seemed to break down in the middle of fighting for him.
I'm curious to see how Spy will handle the torture from now on now when he knows the reason they're doing it. Unless, of course, Engie's story wasn't true.
i love this fic. i love it a lot, so please don't take this the wrong way.
but engineer's "reasoning" doesn't make any goddamn sense? why wouldn't they have told the spy about it yet?
Written Secret Santa gifts inbound! Please don’t reply to this thread until all the fics have been posted. There will be a post signalling when you're clear to start commenting.
As per usual for this event, critique is discouraged on these gifts. This is one of the rare instances we discourage critique unless the creator specifically asks for it (including if/when they choose to repost in their own threads or elsewhere). Someone has worked very hard, through stresses and unforeseen circumstances, to the best of their ability to bring you something they hope you will enjoy. Let's keep in the spirit of Smissmas and give a hand to our hard-working Secret Santas!
Gifts will be posted in order of when they were received.
SFW gifts will be posted first and NSFW after the post stating so. Avert your eyes if that ain't your kind of thing.
Merry Smissmas, magets!
The idea for a “Secret Santa” had been a mistake, the Medic thought bleakly, putting his hand over his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. The idea hadn’t been his. It had been the Scout’s, and the Soldier had immediately jumped on board, crying something about how ‘it would help improve team morale.’
It was the Medic’s personal belief that the Soldier just wanted presents. Of course, the actual work of the project had fallen to him, as it usually did, and he’d been the one to assign random partners to each person. The matches had worked out fairly well, to start with. He thought that he’d made a good match with Soldier and the Demoman, since the idiot soldier was still desperately trying to impress him. The Sniper had been assigned to the Pyro, which the man had complained loudly about, though he eventually sent in his gift. Basically, all of the gifts were taken care of and accounted for.
Except for his own. Much to his chagrin, he’d been assigned to the Engineer. By his own rules, he would keep his assignment, but the Medic really didn’t want to deal with the Texan. The man was not a procrastinator by any means, but it was Christmas Eve and no package had come in from him. The Medic was also bothered by the fact that he knew who his “Secret Santa” was supposed to be. Of course, if he didn’t get anything, he could now hunt the Engineer down after the gift exchange and give him a piece of his mind. And by ‘piece of his mind’ he meant something simple, like a bonesaw thrust deeply into the man’s sternum.
Archimedes would love to come along and watch that.
“Wurdst du nicht, Schnuckel?” He asked, looking down at the small dove that was making a mess on a set of notes. Archimedes looked up at him and cooed a little before hopping across the desk and gently nipping the knuckle of his index finger. It wasn’t that he disliked the Engineer, it was just…complicated.
At least, that was what he told himself. He liked the man plenty. In fact, he liked the man a lot more than plenty. He admired the Engineer’s intelligence, and his cool sense of superiority. He supposed it was called confidence, though the Engin
[Spy/Pyro, kind of related to Devil In Your Hands but not really, just found it on my hard drive and trying to finish it.]
“I will keep your secret,” he promises quietly. “No one else will ever know.”
There is nothing to be read in the masked face that peers in his direction. But he is not deterred by the lack of response. He has gotten this far, won its hard-earned trust after back-breaking, neck-straining hours spent holed up in the air ducts, hanging by the windows, listening in from the sewers. He had even tolerated the other teammate’s teasing for his obsession to know who or what walked in that flame retardant suit. They had told him curiosity killed the cat, but he has plenty of lives to squander as long as he works for BLU. And for as long as their Pyro does, too, he feels safe enough.
To earn the privilege he seeks, he knows he must make a sacrifice. He does so under that watchful gaze, loosening his collar enough to grasp the edge of his balaclava, to roll the thin webbed material up, inch by agonizing inch, over the skin of his throat. Intrigued, the Pyro leans closer, as the Spy unmasks himself slowly, taunting with the gradual reveal. His skin is blotchy from the uneven sun exposure, and his graying hair surely an unruly staticky mess, but the Pyro makes a soft hollow “ohh” of admiration once the Spy sets his mask down on the ground.
Why shouldn’t it express awe? He takes good care of his looks. Attractiveness is a weapon; he keeps all of his weapons sharp.
“You like what you see, mon chaton?” he murmurs, and laughs as the Pyro nods yes. “It is all for you, this secret of mine. Now tell me, do you want to see more?”
Oh god please someone plllleeeasse continue this story! It's a really good story and I hate to see it forgotten. I would write it myself if I wasn't such a bad writer.
Sweet baby scoot on a flying toaster, where do I begin? Take my love, ALL OF IT.
I am ashamed and dismayed I was unable to catch up with this fic until now, but here I am, at last, to shower you with unfettered praise. The pacing, turn of phrase, characterisations, plot.. they hit all the right spots and then some. It's rare for me to be this giddy over anything, so congratulations.
I implore you to continue. If you are nervous about revealing Pyro's sex, the best I can offer you is experience from my own way of doing things, which may not be to your taste. But here goes anyway:
If you want to keep it ambiguous, then figure out non-gender-specific actions and areas of detail to focus on (you have displayed a great grasp on this already). Hands and mouths and furious grinding can be just as hot as penetrative intercourse, and Spy could always be on the receiving end of anything explicit. Pyro can, too, but that comes back to how descriptive you want to be. It is possible to write penetrative intercourse without explaining what orfice it's going into, so long as you keep reader focus on other areas of interest (how it feels for Spy, what their hands are doing, Pyro's actions, etc)
I do hope you continue. What you've set up here would be a great waste if left abandoned. Now I will have to tide myself over by reading Devil In Your Hands because I am hook'd fo lyfe.
I don't think people are offended by Pyro sex as much as they're disappointed when the version of Pyro that gets "revealed" during sex is nothing like what they've been imagining. After all, the magic of Pyro's character is its blank slate nature--not just for the author, but for the readers as well. People like seeing Pyro the way they want to see it and they don't like it when that vision is taken away from them. But as far as I've seen, when authors manage to write Pyro sex without pushing their own version of Pyro's identity, the response is usually quite positive. That isn't, I think, particularly difficult to do. You can get a lot of sexy shit done without removing a single article of Pyro's clothing--and even if you do remove it, you are by no means obligated to describe what lies beneath.
So, long story short, if you want to write more, it's definitely possible to do so without upsetting people. I'd love to see you write more. You've certainly done a good job with what's here so far.
I think I'd be willing to write the rest of the scene, but I'd much rather see this story carried through in the hands of its original creator. It's just more satisfying that way.
[Wow, it really has been a while since I did any writing.
Have some rare Demo x ambiguous!Pyro while I play catch-up with everyone's fic (and my own, hah)]
- - -
Demo stumbled into the engineer's nest, ecstatic grin plastered across his dust-blown, sweaty face. His relief at being out of the scorching Egyptian sun was enough to distract from his bullet-ridden left arm, which he clutched tenderly while staggering forward. He only just managed an enthusiastic salute at the engineer and pyro crouched by the sentry gun, before collapsing over the dispenser.
His teammates rushed to the Scotsman's side, relieved to see him alive and eager to hear details on the fight.
"Ach, give a laddie space, please!" Demo laughed, feeling good as new already. Turning himself over on the dispenser to better face his comrades, his good eye wrinkled as he cracked a broad grin, flashing pearly whites at the engineer. "Took care of yer troubles, easy. Won't be hearin' much out of that lumberin' ham shank and his twitchy doc for a while, at least."
Engineer beamed, clapping Demo on the shoulder before returning to his sentry, whistling as he went. Pyro wavered by Demo's side, cautiously eyeing off the fading scrapes and bullet holes as the dispenser worked on his wounds. The demoman felt the masked eyes on him, and smiled warmly. Down beside the dispenser and out of Engineer's line of sight, he furtively reached to touch a gloved hand. Inclining his head, voice a whisper,
"Missed you out there, jo."
Oh, I really like this. I can't help hoping Engie does join in next time...
So I was bored of the same old junk here on tf2chan so I wrote something that is a bit different to the plain ol' 1v1 character scenario.
Story includes, but is not limited to...
Drinking, strip poker, hot tub fun times, excuses to rip off clothing, girly drinks, freezing pool water, bondage, tattoos, and expensive hotels.
Also I am an artist, not a writer; please excuse my retarded writing style.
"So gentlemen, I have, in my possession, specs for a new make of rifle for you all." The Red Spy exclaimed dutifully and waved a blueprint in the air for emphasis.
"Get out! Bout damn toime we got some upgrades to use against those damn dingos across the way." Adrian piped up and high-fived the Sniper next to him.
"How is it different from our old ones? Better scope? More accuracy?" Derrick chimed in after the high-five.
I was so prepared to yell at someone for bumping this thread so you can only imagine the look on my face when I realized this was a real update. Finally! I've been waiting for this for so long, I had already given up hope already. This was hot as hell and now Jack can finally fuck that spook. I shall stay tuned.
Old thread autosaged! For a clean start, and some grammar fixes/edits throughout, I’m re-posting everything thus far for ease of reading. New chapter will be at the end of the dump and we’ll be right back on track. Enjoy!
For anyone new: WARNING - NAMED CHARACTERS. This story is about a BLU Spy altered into a tentaspy, who ends up taking interest in a RED Engineer. I like exploring his watery nature; I focus a lot on gills and his animal instincts conflicting with him. It’s weighty on plot, and has a supporting cast. If you want an out of context fix of loving Tenta/Engie porn I’d recommend my fic “Fimbriae” on this board.
[ Part 1 ]
They told horror stories about Respawn.
It was supposed to be a new technology to save lives...but just months after its installation already the men stationed at The Well felt like guinea pigs with a Russian roulette gun pointed at their temples.
Some people got sick from Respawn, the shakes, night terrors, seizures. At the same time, some remained unaffected; fresh as daisies when the machine spit them out. It seemed quite ‘choosy’. The worst, of course, was that sometimes it did the very opposite of what it was designed to do – it could kill you. People had been fried by Respawn if they went through too many times in a week, or the power levels dipped too low, or your respawn was after hours, any number of factors...
The Respawn machine was indeed a fickle mistress.
I saw this starting to put up on AO3 and then this link popped up on my dash and just omg. I just started getting interested in the idea of tentaspy and this is absolutely amazing!
I am loving the characters as well; Domi and Lance are so cute and Raimund and Derik are too farkin' adrobs ><
Let me tell you a story of a small word called "sage". Sage had his own nice, comfortable place on TF2-chan. It was in the e-mail box. Once upon a time there were people who hated sage and didn't want to take him home before posting their comments. It caused chaos, frustration and anger among the people on TF2-chan. When sage wasn't home the comments bumped threads, pushed other threads down and let foolish people think there'd been real updates to their favorite fictions. Everyone were sad. The end.
OH NO people forgot to sage! I feel bad when that happens, but they this time it's actually the author!
First of all I am so surprised people are still discovering this fic, wow, super flattered and happy, seriously! (Also HAha sorry (not sorry) Saphira about Raimund and Derik, they kind of developed alongside things ;). ) My fic writing was distracted this year by a new fandom in my life but I have not forgotten about my favorite killer mercenaries and water monsters.
IsTheMedia is correct, I am putting this fic up on AO3 with lots of fleshed out areas, and later major fixes. Some alterations are from crit I got here and realized 'wow I really could have written that part better plot wise' but also from generally getting better at writing this past year. Now that the holidays clusterfuck is over I'll have more time to work on it.
As you might suspect it will be continued to completion once I catch up reposting on AO3 - so don't look here for updates anymore (but mods please leave this thread here so people can see where the fic went). I also am combining some of the smaller chapters together (so it may say up to 'Part 5' right now in the chapter list on AO3, but it's more I'm up to Part 10.)
You don't have to be logged into an AO3 account to read or comment, so if you wanna drop me feedback please do! http://archiveofourown.org/works/985849/chapters/1942949
Also going to plug another good TF2 fic by a friend of mine that you might remember, "The Nucleus Incident" http://thenucleusincident.tumblr.com/ , she too is going through and fixing things and re-posting to completion.
Happy New Year TF2 fandom!
I've been a bit wary of posting here for the longest time, but I'm getting tired of waiting for opinions on other websites. So I figure any opinion, no matter how harsh, is better than none. Enjoy!
This chapter contains mild sexism.
The cab was hot and uncomfortable at best. An old crooner sang about lost love, the noise staticky through rusted speakers. Two people sat; a lanky male with a baseball cap and a bat at his hip and a female in tan pants, her own hat - a wide-brimmed and heavily decorated akubra - pulled down over her eyes. The train lurched and the male covered his mouth.
"Oh gawd. I think I'ma lose muh lunch," he grumbled, shifting in his seat. He looked around for something to hold on to in case the train decided to shake like that again. "How you holdin' up, toots?"
The female lifted one arm slightly from it's position, crossed over her chest, to raise the brim of her hat with her thumb. She raised a dark eyebrow at the green-looking young man.
"I am fine. You look ill," she said, speaking slowly. She tried to keep her accent from her voice.
"Heh," he chuckled, stopping and frantically searching for something to hold on to once more as the train shook. He clutched the sorry excuse for a cushion under him. "Gawd, I hate trains," he muttered. "You look fine," he said, sizing the girl up. "What's yer secret, eh?"
Nine of them were supposed to be the cannon mercs, spread across both teams, and nine were OCs. I'm hoping it will come out in my writing which are which. Also, the female Sniper is RED, so that may be something I'll have to look back on and clarify.
This chapter contains mild sexism, one racial slur, and semi-graphic descriptions of vomiting.
When she woke up, the RED Sniper groaned. There was a slight pain in her neck. This did not bode well for her first day of combat. She sat up and looked around the room. She'd tried to personalize it a bit last night, but it was just so plain still. She dressed in silence and brushed her hair. She pulled the brunette locks back into a low bun and put on her hat. She topped for a second and appeared deep in thought. She took off the hat and placed it on her desk. She headed out her door and made her way to the medbay.
"Ahh! Fukin'a, ya trin’a kill me, doc?!" came the shriek of a familiar voice behind the door. Sniper was torn between laughing and being afraid. She wondered if she would be screaming like that soon.
"Oh, come now! This is barely a pinch!" came that melodic voice from last night.
A couple small points: I think you're overdoing the accents a little. A little goes a long way, imo. Also, I find repeated use of "the female" as a noun to be grating. Why not call them women instead?
Soldier referring to Demoman with the n-word seems really wrong to me. Though maybe that one is the OC? I can't tell yet for the Soldiers.
Anyway... I'm always kinda wary of OCs, but I'm intrigued by the blond Medic.
I was a but worried about the accents. Though, less the thickness and more the consistency. I felt as though I was slipping back and forth between similar accents, and sometimes not even bothering with them at all.
The female/woman thing is probably my own bias/gender issues coming to the surface. I'll try and keep that in check in the future.
Since Jane and Tavish were the best of friends, I don't really think Jane would call Tavi the n-word. Hint hint.
I understand your uneasiness of OC stories. I don't read them often either as they tend to be self-inserts for the sake of some young lady wanting the mercs fawning over her. For the love of duck, I hope that's not what this is coming off as.
This chapter contains mild homophobia and drug references.
She'd left her earpiece on after informing the group of the locations of her bombs and what Sniper had heard concerned him. He knew she was trying to goad the passive RED Medic into fighting with the suicidal sounding phrase, but what followed almost made him miss a target. The blonde doctor knew the girl's name. He muttered it and shortly after, scattergun fire rang loud in his ear. The opposing Medic muttered something he couldn't make out and there was a fleshy 'thud'.
Sniper and Demoman knew each other's names. They had for a year now. They shared this knowledge one night, sprawled out on the dirty mattress in the back of Sniper's van. They smoked marijuana form an ivory bowl and told each other a few of their dirty secrets.
"Muh name's Andy," he said, for once enjoying contact with another person. Her side was pressed against his and he couldn't bring himself to care that it was just a little too warm. "Andrew Mundy," he said, his lips pulling back in a lazy smirk, wrapping an arm around the female's shoulders.