Some are pairings and some aren't, the / doesn't neccesarily mean it's romantically inclined. Basically what I did here was played musical roulette and randomly plucked out names and threw them together to see what I got with each song. Please do tell me what you think. (By the end there will be 10 ficlets.) _____________________________________________________ Bruises – Chairlift Heavy/Pyro I just wanted to give him a present. Something simple and pleasing, something that would last for a long time. When I was a child I knew an old woman who had some dead flowers hanging in her kitchen. She would babysit me while my mother was at work, and one day I asked her about them. “Why do you keep those flowers? They’re dead, you should throw them out.†The old woman was kind, and told me, “They’re a memory. My husband gave those to me on our last anniversary before he went to heaven.†I was confused; I didn’t know dead things could be a memory. My mother had a portrait of our family in the tiny living room of our apartment, one that was painted before my father died, so I knew that pictures could be memories. But dead flowers? “Even if the flowers are dead they can be memories?†I asked her. The old woman nodded. “Of course. Just because something is broken or wilted doesn’t mean it isn’t important.†I remembered that my whole life. Even now, when thinking of a gift. I wandered away from the base one afternoon, in search of any flowers I could find. There were some clay pots scattered around that I collected earlier, and took my time to choose the one that looked best with the least cracks and pieces missing. I borrowed a shovel from the shed, and put some dirt in the pot I picked out, made a little well in it for the flowers, and took it with me. It was hot out, as it always was, but for some reason without a battle going on it was more obvious. I wouldn’t give up though. It took almost all night ‘til I found one, a tiny little thing with white petals. It was perfect. - I fell asleep that night with a smile, happy I had found a good gift for Heavy. I left it in front of his door before I went to bed, the little white flower repotted and watered. This way, even when the flower died, he could keep it and it would be a memory forever. - I woke up to the sound of something breaking. I couldn’t have suited up faster, even if RED was attacking. My heart was pounding, and I was so scared. It was hard to stand up, my knees kept wobbling so hard. It hurt even more when I rounded the corner and saw my gift in pieces on the floor. A noise came out of my mouth that I had never made before. Heavy looked up and said, “Oh Pyro. Sorry for waking, I did not see this pot..†I ran. ________________________________________________________ September Had A Trigger Finger – The Actual Fem!Spy/Soldier His time under contract for RED came and went, and Soldier found himself an older gentleman. The job had paid well, no doubt, and funds were not a problem in the slightest. Sometimes his back ached from long days of hauling rocket launchers on his shoulder and kickback from his weapon of choice, but he regretted nothing. It was something he enjoyed, and if a man doesn’t enjoy his job he shouldn’t be doing that job at all. But then there were days like these, when he got a single postcard in the mail. There was only one person that sent him mail these days. Soldier held the card in his hand, calloused fingers touching the pristine beach scene pictured on the front. He flipped it over, and on the back in neat looping cursive, another message just for him. “Do you miss me?†Soldier frowned and threw the card into the pile of others just like it, every single one with the same old beach, every single stupid card with another inane message that meant nothing and yet- meant everything. That damn woman, taunting him like this every chance she got, sending him these cards that are nowhere even close enough to the real thing. All these dumb little messages, and this one was the worst. This one was the worst, and the most pointless of them all because of course. Of course he missed her. It was days like these that regrets were the only thing he had. __________________________________________________ Take It With A Kiss – The Pistolas Sniper/Scout “Why in the hell are you still here Scout?†Sniper growled, trying to keep calm so he wouldn’t knick the arrow he was carving in the wrong way and mess up entirely. Scout shrugged and picked up another baseball, tossing it up with a flick of his wrist. The sharp smack of the metal bat hitting the ball made Sniper twitch and take a chunk out of the arrow. It would be too weak to use now. “Bloody hell..†Sniper whispered, picking up another branch to start carving. “What was that Snipes?†Scout said, twisting around with a grin. He had barely shut up since he came out here, hitting those stupid balls out one by one, then running to get them, coming back, talking Sniper’s ear off, hitting the balls.. Repeat ad libium. “I said,†Sniper took a deep breath. “Nothing.†“Aw come on, what’s botherin’ ya Snipes?†Sniper chuckled and started on the next arrow, small smooth strokes to get the branch shaped down, but not too much, so it didn’t snap. “You’re just pushing your luck today, aren’t you mate?†“Tell me man,†Scout continued, “Just sittin’ ovah there mumblin’ to yourself. I’m right here, jus’ talk to me!†He said, pointing to himself when he finished, over hand resting the metal bat on his shoulder. “Why don’t you go practice on the other side of the base Scout?†Sniper suggested, not looking up from the arrow he was working on. “Why should I? Am I bothering you or so-“ “Yes!†Sniper exclaimed, finally looking up at Scout. “Alright mate? You’re botherin’ me. It’s my bloody van, I should be able to sit out here in peace without you coming out here and talking my bleedin’ ear off-“ Sniper stopped, set his knife and the branch down, picked up his #1 Sniper mug and calmly stood. “Nevermind, you loike it out here so much, go ahead. You can have it. Oi’m goin’ inside.†Sniper started walking back to the base, he was just fed up and didn’t’ feel like dealing with Scout anymore. He needed a cup of coffee, he had run out in the van an hour ago, the only place to get hot coffee being inside the base. “Snipes, wait!†Sniper had no intention of waiting, but Scout grabbed his shirt sleeve and tugged him around- strong arm on him, Scout- straight into a kiss. It wasn’t unpleasant, more of a surprise than anything else, but Scout threw himself into it, standing on tiptoes and everything- “S-sorry,†Scout mumbled. Sniper was still a little dazed, just looking at Scout stare a hole through the ground. Scout ran before Sniper could say anything. - The next day Scout passed Sniper, one on his way for morning coffee and the other out to practice. “I ain’t no fag, Snipes,†Scout said in a low voice, looking around for anybody else. Sniper grinned. “Whatever you say, mate.â€
I like them, a lot.
>>2 I'm very happy to hear that. Thank you. Here's three more. We've got some happy, some sad, and...some Dark-ineer. Enjoy! ____________________________________________________________ Better Days – The Dirges Everybody…centric? Demo broke out the good stuff, filling every mug, cup and glass, whatever they could find in the cabinets that would hold liquid. Even Medic drank himself silly, laughing loudly and throwing his hands up into the air gleefully whenever Heavy told a good joke. When they ran out of Demo’s stash, which was an amazing feat in itself since Demo had enough alcohol to topple an elephant, they broke into Heavy’s vodka, and he willingly shared every last drop of it. At one point Scout found himself bent over the kitchen sink, apparently the vodka didn’t agree with him. Heavy had a ball with it, poking fun at Scout as he puked his guts up. Medic kept fussing over Scout, giving him different suggestions on how to cure hangovers or how to make Scout stop throwing up, but he kept giving out wrong advice, and somehow Scout ended up swallowing a tablespoon of mustard which only made him throw up more. Soldier laughed himself hoarse over it, ending up on the floor for the fifth time that evening. Sniper had gone to take a piss at least eight times already, and Spy joked with him about his jars, too bad they were in his van, but Sniper only thought that was a brilliant idea. It took Spy, Engineer, and eventually Heavy to restrain the Australian from going out to his van to get the jars. Pyro refused all alcohol offered, but laughed and partied nonetheless. He told a great joke through charades that made everyone laugh for ten minutes straight, even though nobody could remember what it was the next day; they all agreed it was the greatest thing they’d ever heard. Engineer’s cup got knocked off the table by an enthusiastic Demo who was flinging his arms every which way as he told a story, and it shattered against the tile. Spy snorted from across the table and suggested Engineer simply use his hat. Which is exactly what he did. The evening started to die down, and a somberness settled over each of the men seated at the table. Spy raised his glass and said, “To our last job together.†Every other mug, and cup was raised, and one orange hat. Each man muttered their agreements, and downed whatever was left in their cup of choice. _______________________________________________________________ Supernova – Oomph! Engineer-centric Engineer ran his hand over the lid of the metal container, the top locked with two latches and welded shut. There was only one exit for the liquid inside, and that was a special valve on the side, tailored specifically for the Doc’s equipment. What Engineer had sitting on his workbench was the liquid that made the Doc’s medigun and his dispenser’s healing properties possible. Engineer hefted the heavy metal container up into his arms, and started walking towards the medical ward, where Medic would no doubt be waiting for him. Engie nodded at Pyro as he passed, no time to stop with the priceless liquid he was hauling. When he arrived medic greeted him happily, and escorted him into the back of the room, where the tubes for Doc’s larger non-portable medigun led, and the charge station for the medipack rested. “I vas starting to get vorried, Herr Engineer,†Medic said jokingly. Engineer chuckled back, “Aw c’mon Doc, you know I always pull through.†“Indeed you do, Herr Engineer. I vill leave you too it, zhen.†“Thanks Doc,†Medic went back to his desk, flipping through a large medical handbook. Engineer set the metal container down, grabbing the biggest tube and hooking it to the valve. First, open the valve on the reception container. A slight hiss from escaping air sounded. Second, turn on the suction on the reception container. Mechanical whirring began drawing the liquid inside the metal container into the reception container. Third, make sure the delivery container is empty. Engineer tilted the box towards its valve, emptying all the rust-red liquid that it held. Fourth, turn off the suction on the reception container. The whirring ceased. Fifth, remove the tube from the delivery container and attach it to the cleanser. Engineer pulled a small white bottle from his pocket, and attached it to the tube. Sixth, turn the suction on the reception container on. The whirring started and sucked in the clear liquid, removing all traces of the rust-red that was stuck to the insides of the tube. Seventh, turn off suction, close the valve, and remove cleanser bottle. It was a process in Engineer’s head, something he had done countless times before. Without him, the team would no doubt die continuously. The cleanser bottle went back into Engineer’s pocket, hidden from all. “Alright Doc, that’ll do it.†Engineer said, picking up the empty metal container and starting to head back to his workshop. “Zhank you,†Medic called after him. “I zhink zhe next installment should me in about a month, Herr Engineer,†“I’ll get right on it Doc!†- Engineer kicked a panel on the floor of his workshop, and the left wall slid backwards then in, disappearing from view to reveal a staircase lit by a string of light bulbs. Engineer followed it down, into a larger space that was tinted rust-red. He set the metal container in a corner, its job done for the evening. Engineer walked further back into the dim space, the rust-red tint warping his smile. In front of him were bodies, malformed BLU’s that came out of respawn wrong, each one suspended in their own tank with wires and IV’s. All of them were some other nightmare version of Engineer’s own team, things that weren’t meant to exist but were the product of playing God. Some tubes put nourishment and liquid in, while others slowly drained something out. Something rust-red. Engineer chuckled. “I’ll get right on it.†______________________________________________________ Eternity – FFX-2 Heavy-centric It’s cold. It seeps into his skin; makes the bones in his fingers ache and tingle until they are so cold he cannot feel them anymore. Every single extra piece of clothing he can spare has gone to his family to keep them from freezing, to keep his little sisters alive and his mother from catching sick again. Even if he must freeze, as long as they are alive, it is okay. He loves them so much. He cannot bear to lose them. Long days of work make him sweat even in the snow, the drops sliding down his back and making him shiver. They make him work the most out of anyone, even the healthy young men, because of his size and the heavy lifting he can do. Sascha asks him why they make him stay out there for so long, why they make him work longer than everyone else. He knows the answer, but it will not satisfy his little sister. She whines and pleads, she says it is not fair, but she does not understand. They are in the gulag. There is nothing that is fair here. Instead of answering her, he calls Natascha over, and he plays with his sisters. Puts on a puppet show for them with their overused old dolls, while they huddle close together to watch. Sascha claps and giggles, but Natascha just smiles silently. Their mother coughs in the cot beside them. He knows she’s getting sick again, even though he tried so hard, giving her extra blankets and food, anything he could scrounge. It seems the winter will never end here. It seems like they will never escape.
Thank you for satisfying my headcanon that Heavy named his guns after his sisters.
That first one in the second batch was amazing. Bumbed me out just a smidge at the end, though. Totally not expecting that.
>>4 I'm glad someone else shares that headcannon. I've always thought he named them after his sisters, and nothing can convince me otherwise. >>5 Yeah, I was kinda sad to write it that way, but the song kinda pushed me to add a not-so-happy ending. Pleased to hear you liked it though. Only one this time, and that leaves three more. This one is a bit more on the intimate side, but nothing graphic. Here you are.. (Just noticed the grammatical error on "too" in the Engie one. Gah. Thought I proofread these pretty well.) _______________________________________________________________ Manta Rays – Ludo Sniper/Spy “I think sometimes..†Spy mutters into Sniper’s shoulder, his arm thrown across the Australian’s chest, uncovered face buried in the dark. “’Bout?†Sniper asks, running his fingers down Spy’s back with the arm that’s wrapped around the man’s waist. Spy sighs exaggeratedly and twitches his head, saying, “Non, never mind.†“No, tell me,†Sniper urges, stilling his hand. “Please?†Spy chuckles, then goes silent. “I think sometimes…that if I try hard enough, reach far enough, to let go of everything and stretch my arms..†Spy buries his face deeper into the blankets, making himself almost unintelligible, “That I can catch the sun.†“That’s quite a goal.†Sniper says, smiling down at Spy even though he can’t see. “It’s not a goal, nor a game,†Spy sits up on his elbows, talking right next to Sniper, so close. Sniper has touched his face more times than he can count, and he has a picture in his mind, but he’s yet to see it in the light. “It’s a silly little thought,†Spy finishes, almost angrily. “Oi don’t think it is.†Sniper says simply. “Oh?†Sniper can tell Spy is intrigued. It makes him grin. “Then what would you call it?†Spy asks. “Well you say it’s not a goal. Okay. You say it’s not a game, and call it a little thing that just zooms through your head roight?†Spy nods, the movement shaking the old bed a bit. “Oui, bushman. What are you getting at?†“Well,†Sniper takes a deep breath, “Me ma used to tell me that little things matter, no matter how quick they come an’ go.†“A wise woman.†“So I’d say…†Sniper turns to face Spy, even in the dark. “It’s a dream.†“A dream?†Spy asks incredulously. “Yeah. Your dream.†“Quite a thing for you to say bushman,†Spy mutters, laying back down and scooting in to Sniper’s shoulder again. It takes awhile, but Spy eventually falls asleep. He’ll be gone in the morning before Sniper can wake up. It hurts, but he knows it has to be that way. Spy doesn’t make noise when he sleeps, but when he exhales the air brushes against Sniper’s shoulder. Sniper brushes his hand along Spy’s back, and tilts his head into the frenchman’s hair. “I’ll help you.†He says. “I’ll help you catch the sun.â€