#*tf2 spy voice* CORRECT!

[prettyboypistol]

Across Enemy Lines || TF2 Sniper/Spy 18+

[BDSM] [D/S relationship] [Powerbottom Spy/Needy Top Sniper] [Cigarette Play] [Pain Play] [brief knife play]

Sniper’s hands shook as he reached towards the door handle. He knew it was unlocked. Spy said it would be, as long as he was quiet in the late hours of the night. Mick swallowed a building of nerves as he finally opened the door.

“I assume you were interested then?” Spy murmured from his chair, whiskey in one hand and a fancy cigarette worth more than Sniper’s camper in the other. Sniper felt his teeth grit inside his mouth as he tried to step inside the smoking room and not trip over himself when he heard Spy’s voice.

Sniper nodded as he felt the sweat bead at his brow.

“If I may ask, why? Of course, as the only other homosexual-adjacent man in this damn warzone, I assume there is a level of desperation.” Spy questioned, his expression seemed far more out of smug curiosity- as if he already knew the answer. “I know you’re allowed out of the base fairly often for jobs, so why risk something so close?”

“I need you.”

The quick answer caught Spy off guard, but the poise was quickly recovered. “Oh? Why me? Mundy, I have stabbed you multiple times. Are you some sort of sick masochist?” Spy knew the sly usage of Sniper’s last name was a mild threat against the man, but he had to gauge the reaction of his potential hatefuck of the night. Sniper bit the inside of his cheek and refused to answer, which told Spy more than what he needed to know.

When Sniper cleared his throat and shifted his weight, Spy stood up and approached his daytime enemy. He thanked whatever god above that Sniper had the decency to shower before he came over and he did not have to turn away such an opportunity due to grime and grit. It even smelled as if he put on some sort of cologne, even if the price was evident in the scent.

“At least you put in effort.” Spy shrugged as he looked Sniper up and down. Still in his uniform, there were points docked for that. Although, Spy had to admit that, if he had the chance to dress the scraggly man up, he would heavily consider a shade similar to that red. “Did you prepare yourself?”

“Uh- yeah. Yeah . I did.” Sniper managed to say as a blush creeped up his neck and blossomed over his cheeks. “Did everything you asked me to.”

Spy paused for a moment, then rolled his eyes and handed his cigarette to Sniper. “Jesus, this is a hookup, not an interrogation.” He assured as he walked back to his plush seat, with a vague gestured hand to the other chair to the opposite of the intable, Spy spoke up again. “Sit down! Relax a bit. I’m not going to stab you tonight.”

The shuffle to the other seat was downright pathetic, but not pathetic enough for Spy to shove Sniper out the door where he came from. Spy had to admit, it was rather cute to see such a stoic and quiet guy as nervous as that! An unheard mumble caught Spy’s attention.

“Oui? Qu'est-ce que tu as dit?” //Yes? What did you say?//

A moment of silence passed, then Sniper spoke, his voice low and hushed.

“J-J'ai dit que je le souhaitais… S'il te plaît?” //I said I wanted it… please?//

The response in mis-pronounced but textbook correct French was a surprise to Spy, but a welcome one.

“Now, where did you learn that from, hmm?” The tone Spy held was painfully amused and a tad too smug for Sniper’s liking.

Sniper coughed and looked the other way as he took a drag of the cigarette.

“Uh, picked it up here and there for odd jobs. ‘M not fluent or anything… I’d call myself academically passable, but I dunno a word you usually say.”

“So you don’t know colloquial French?”

“Nope.”

Spy stood up and took his cigarette from Sniper to take a hit, he noted how Sniper’s eyes followed his every move as he breathed, the cigarette delicately between his lips.

“Tragically for you, I’m not interested in knifeplay tonight, you ruffian. Even if it’s on you.”

“That’s fine, yeah.”

“Any other kinks I should know about, bushman?”

Sniper fell silent. In the quiet, he bit his lower lip and stared at the pristine carpeted floor.

“If you’re not going to talk then-”

“I like bein’ submissive.”

“That’s more like it.” Spy smiled, a foxly mischief in his expression. “Now mon beau, I’m sure you like more than just that. If you don’t tell me, I can just order you to.”

Sniper felt this chest flutter, much like a violin string. Tight and taut, Spy’s voice was the bow that made his core vibrate in the most jittering of ways. He was excited. He was flighty. He needed more.

“You’re a spy, why don’t’cha read me like a book?” Sniper sassed, his usual personality back in full force. The denial was enough to irk Spy into knocking the hat off Sniper’s head and to grab Sniper by the hair.

“You listen here you son of a bitch, you will give me respect in this room. I invite you out of the goodwill of my heart and you will not take that for granted, is that clear?”

The speed at which Sniper’s pupils blew wide churned deep in Spy’s chest. The Aussie tried to nod, but whimpered at the pain of Spy’s tight grip in the roots of his hair.

“Yea- Yes sir.” Sniper quickly corrected himself as his eyes frantically tried to drink in all of Spy. The indignant look of disgust, the perfect fabric that hugged Spy in a way that only good money could buy, the way Spy breathed that cigarette that cost more than Sniper’s life as if it were second nature. The huffs of his breath were ragged, low, and gently vibrating in Sniper’s throat.

“Now, I believe I asked you a question, boy.”

“I like bein’ tied up sir.”

“What else?”

“Bein’ talked down to. Pushed around. A bit of bullying, sir.”

“And a masochist too? Really, no wonder you came to me. At least you learn quickly.” Spy halfheartedly praised as he seemed unimpressed.

Spy released Sniper and laid down calmly on the bed. “If you can manage to keep yourself from wetting your pants from excitement, strip.”

The way Sniper stumbled and frantically tried to pop off his shoes and undo all the buttons of his shirt. His breath fluttered like a tight vibrato; light, quick, and dizzying. The scars piqued Spy’s interest briefly but his eyes quickly swam away to watch the smoke patterns as he exhaled. Although, the calm stillness of Spy and the sloshing rapid of Sniper was quite the duality.

“I didn’t say to keep the undergarments.”

“Sorry- uh, sir.”

Spy seemed pleased with how Sniper obeyed so quick. Yes, a bit of brat taming was fun, but not tonight. The swirling of arousal mixed itself in Spy’s body as Sniper stood in front of Spy, already well over half-mast.

“Sir, can I?” Sniper asked, his tone a beg as he looked at Spy like a starving man. “Please?”

“Come along now, bring the condom too.”

Sniper approached the bed as if he was a sinner on holy ground. Reverently, he moved to sit upon the side of the bed and awaited further instruction.

“Take off my shoes and undo my pants, if you can resist the temptation.” Spy ordered flippantly as he took another breath from his cigarette.The dripping of building lust was far from intoxicating to Spy, but as he watched his favorite daytime enemy delicately undo the laced shoes with more grace than he had ever seen Sniper portray, Spy couldn’t help but allow himself to feel whirls of pride and egotism.

“What do you want, mon beau?”

“Whatever you want to give me.”

“Tell me.”

“Hurt me. Please.”

A slap rang out when Spy struck Sniper’s cheek, leather hit soft skin. The gasping shudder that Sniper breathed out as the pain bubbled up from the initial hit rippled through his body as Spy repeated the gesture on the opposite cheek.

Spy leaned closer to Sniper and bit into his shoulder, once, twice-! Sniper let out a small whimper of pain as Spy sucked a hickey into him.

“Say ‘June’ if I go too far.” Spy mumbled into Sniper’s ear, clearly and honestly.

“Right, gotcha.” Sniper responded, his needy air dissipated momentarily to assure to Spy that he was in a right state of mind.

As Spy pulled back, he adjusted the aviators on Sniper’s face, an unamused expression fell to him. “Ah, did you forget these?”

“Sorry sir, lemme-”

“No no, keep them.”

The seconds of slow movements felt like hours to the flutteringly impatient Sniper. His heart raced a million miles an hour, his breath was desperate to give his body enough oxygen to function. The thrumming need of ecstasy of merely being treated in such a way played Sniper, and with Spy behind the bow, Sniper knew Spy would play him like a violin too.

“What?” Spy hummed after he barely caught what Sniper said. “Really now, we need to work on that mumbling problem of yours.” He said before he struck Sniper’s face again. “Speak properly.”

“Please hurt me more, sir.”

Spy rolled his eyes. “Isn’t this enough, you masochist? Getting your face beaten, naked in front of your enemy?”

Sniper shivered in pleasure.

“God, you like being talked down to, I forgot. I could ignore you right now and you could get off, couldn’t you?” Spy cooed, no trace of affection in his eyes. Sniper bit his lower lip, with every word Sniper’s erection seemed more and more interested. “Fucking pathetic.”

“Sir please-”

“You are in no position to be asking anything of me, needy whore.”

Spy grabbed his butterfly knife from the nightstand and pressed the blade against Sniper’s neck, the pressure agonizingly not enough. “Would you get off to this too, bushman? Who am I kidding, you would stain my suit if I pressed any harder.”

“Yes sir, I’m sorry sir.” Sniper whimpered. Spy retracted the knife with his usual flair before the knife was placed back on the nightstand.

“Put the condom on, I already did the preparation. I don’t know where your hands have been.” Spy ordered, to which Sniper hurriedly obeyed.

Sniper opened up the condom swiftly, eager to please. God, that smug smile on Spy’s face made Sniper’s blood boil usually. Tonight though, the smile was a promise, a whispering of sadistic pleasure that Sniper could find nowhere else. Sniper’s cock ached, begging in its own right to have any sort of friction. Upon Spy’s denial, Sniper frowned as he was forced to wait slowly.

“Oh, another thing. If you get soft or cum, I’ll kick you out immediately.” Spy threatened as he sucked the smoke into his lungs from his cigarette. A moment passed, where Sniper’s eyes met Spy’s.

Then Spy exhaled. Right in Sniper’s face.

Sniper bit his lip and whimpered. The smoke even smelled fancy, goddamnit. Sniper breathed the smoke in, his pupils were blown in maddening lust.

“Oh god, how’d you know?”

“You seemed the type. Now go on, try your best.”

Sniper took no haste to push into Spy in one held breath, he breathed out a low, long “fuuuuck.” as he felt the warm tightness around him. It took everything within Spy not to react. Sniper wanted to be humiliated, so he had to play the part, cock shoved in him be damned.

“You know, you can put more than the tip in. You might be a patient man, but I’m not.” Spy spat as he feigned more interest in his smoke than Sniper.

“It’s… It’s all the way in.” Sniper whispered.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Spy could absolutely tell. Sniper was a decent size and certainly abused the fact that he prepared himself liberally with how tight Spy was stretched. With a twitch that nearly made him gasp as he berated Sniper, Spy rolled his eyes as he tried his hardest to ignore the swirling pleasure that sang like a siren to indulge in like an irresistible wine.

A shaky breath passed before Sniper started to move. God, Spy was tight. Little movements of Sniper, his hips flush against Spy’s thighs nearly broke the already delicate facade Spy held. Nevertheless, the mask stayed on, cold and disinterested as Sniper started to move, biting his lip to muffle the noises of embarrassment. The thrusts soon turned erratic, chasing the high of lust as Sniper groaned and growled as his dick was more than lavished in spoiled pleasure.

“Spy- I-”

A harsh slap to Sniper’s cheek reminded him of Spy’s position over the desperate man.

“Sir, please- I-”

“What could you possibly want, whore?”

Sniper bit his lower lip and screwed his eyes shut, nodding in agreement. A silent beg.

“Cheap, pathetic slut.” Spy purred as he puffed on his cigarette, the ash flaking onto the mattress in specks as Sniper’s thrusts jostled Spy. “How much of a whore do you have to be to come crawling to the enemy team, hmm? Did nobody want to fuck the piss-stained bushman over in RED?”

“Oh god. ”

“What other disgusting kinks do you hide behind that bullshit professionalism? Go on.” Spy demanded, his voice quivering slightly as Sniper brushed against his prostate just right. “Just know that if you say piss I will stab you.”

“No- don’t gotta piss kink-” Sniper stumbled out. “I’ve got a thing for- for suits, sir. I like smellin’ things too.”

Sniper was unceremoniously shoved into Spy’s shoulder, the order was clear enough as Sniper breathed the smell of too-expensive cologne and whiskey. The cigarette smell was a given, but the hints of quality mixed in with the tobacco made Sniper whimper as he used the new position to thrust deeper into Spy.

“Needy whore, I should put you on display, show everyone just how unfit you are to be a mercenary. You already are messy and dirty, imagine how fast you’ll be exposed for fraternizing with the enemy, begging him to demean you no less. Filthy fucking pervert.”

“Sir- I’m not gonna-” Sniper begged as he let his hips shake in uncontrollable desire. “Can I? I wanna ask something.”

“Oh? And what do you want?”

“C-can you put your cig out on the base? God, I’m not gonna last long- please? Please sir, I know it’s fucked up but I wanna be burned by you.”

Spy hummed, thinking tentatively as Sniper haphazardly pumped his cock in and out of Spy, only to pull out, presenting himself to Spy with a breathy wheeze as he jacked himself off, one hand on the headboard above Spy’s head, the other working himself to the teetering edge.

“Please sir, please put your cig out on me.” Sniper whispered.

Who was Spy to not oblige?

The white hot feeling of pubic hair burning, skin screaming in pain, and nerves firing danger signals sent Sniper over the edge with a low growl. The cum that spilled over Spy’s suit stood out horribly well, the off-white glistening against the deep blue. Shaky breaths echoed around Spy’s room for moments that lasted far too long for the rogue’s liking.

“You got your pleasure, now get out of my room. I’m sure you don’t want security to find a RED in such a secure location.” Spy ordered as he hurriedly dabbed the semen stains with his handkerchief.

Sniper nodded with a quick and casual thanks, legs shaking more than they ever should for a grown man as he gathered his clothes to quickly dress and depart.

As soon as the door shut, Spy bit the inner side of his cheek and used the same cloth to jack himself off- god, he deserved an acting award for keeping himself together during that fuck! Sniper was brutal and needy- Spy had never felt more desired! Rocking his hips to the same erratic beats, Spy gasped as his semen mixed with Sniper’s.

Spy was definitely paying Sniper a visit later that week. He wanted to make that stupidly cramped van shake.

[sandwichboiscum]

*takes in a deeeeep breath cause I've got a likely unwanted opinion heh*

So here's a bunch of ships I like for Tf2 characters (don't hate me pls) also a lot of these are about Medic. No he's not my favorite character you can't prove anything >:0

Medic/Heavy (Red Oktoberfest) Classic, they work well together and are heavily implied in the game with achievements and voice lines. They were the first ship I heard of when I joined the community.

Medic/Engie (Science Party) They both have scientific minds, and in one of the catch up comics they implant a brain into a pumpkin together. Not much to go off if, but I guess you have to be pretty close with Medic to stand him messing around with brain matter. Obviously they get along well, and one of my head canons is that they'd bond over the fact that a lot of the time they don't get acknowledged for their help.

Sniper/Spy (Bloody Suit? I think) Another classic. They seem to both appreciate being kinda alone, so why not be kinda alone together? Also, the fact that Heavies and Medics typically work together and Snipers and Spies typically work against each other makes it kinda interesting. They also don't really get thanked enough for their help. Another ship I heard of when I joined the community

Medic/Sniper (Bushmedicine) To me it makes sense. Obviously in the comics Medic brings Sniper back to life, so there's that. My head canon is that Sniper doesn't call for Medic often (that I've experienced) so I'm sure whenever Sniper gets healed he's really grateful and would do his best to help Medic, especially by helping headshot direct dangers like Heavies and other Snipers.

Soldier/Demo (Boots n Bombs) Come on. Explosions. And the fact that RED Demo and BLU Soldier are/were friends (correct me if I got the colors wrong) they seem to get along pretty well

Sniper/Spy/Medic (Support Sandwich) This one I like for a few different reasons. 1. Medic needs people to bring him down to Earth sometimes, and Sniper and Spy tend to be pretty down to Earth. 2. Sniper and Spy are like the introverts with a single brain cell, while Medic is the extrovert with no braincells. 3. Medic does understand the importance of quiet sometimes, and I headcanon that when they all feel like being quiet they'll sit together and just chill. 4. They're all Support classes (obviously) and again, they might bond over complaining that their teammates don't thank them enough

Heavy/Spy (Spoovy) I see a lot of people who ship Bushmedicine also shipping Spoovy. In my brain it makes sense. I headcanon that Spy would likely love any type of literature, and considering Heavy has a degree in Russian literature, it just logically fits together.

Ok. That concludes with my list of ships that I particularly like within the community. A lot of these I know don't have great reasoning behind them, but eh.

I know this is a COMPLETELY unwanted opinion but it has been bouncing in my brain FOREVER and I felt like I needed to get it out before I exploded. Please feel free to reblog/comment with your opinions, but at least try to be nice.

Also I'm gonna try and post another meme/art soon

[rayclubs]

Am I correct in saying that you don't like nb pyro, trans scout, and gender-fluid spy mainly because they're not creative? Like you wanna see people almost "not state the obvious"?

Slightly unrelated lmao when you said you thought that trans scout was transphobic I was totally like, "Oh yeah I think he'd totally have some internalized transphobia." So, what do you think about the mercs and that? If they do/don't & how they deal with internalized transphobia/homophobia or gender dysphoria in general?

Sorry if any of that came off as rude, I didn't mean for it to.

No, creativity isn't the issue here at all.

To be clear, I don't think that any character interpretation having any gender or sexuality is inherently creative, just how in real life being LGBTQ+ is not a trend but a state of being. The creativity in character creation or analysis comes from exploring how their gender and/or sexuality relates to and is a part of their life experiences, relationships, values, personality, culture, self-expression, and other defining aspects of their existence.

My issue with nonbinary Pyro, transgender Scout, and genderfluid Spy is that of redundancy, or worse - insidious bigoted rhetoric. Hateful, malicious people have spent years reimagining the diversity of queer experience into a collection of easily-strawmanned "tropes" and delusions, and the media took them and ran with them for almost as long as it existed en masse. Scout by design is what a prejudiced mind imagines a trans man to be, Spy's genderfluidity is assumed because he doesn't fit a centuries-old patriarchal understanding of masculinity, and - the worst offense for me, personally - in my close, regional, almost familial culture nonbinary people are still seen as obscure non-human creatures, such as Pyro is occasionally implied to be.

It's... understandable, really. Plenty of trans guys relate to Scout, I know genderfluid people who see themselves in Spy, and enough nonbinary people have told me how much Pyro means to them for me to learn to keep my voice down when I talk about this. I'm not asking people to stop making these interpretations, I'm only asking you to please consider where they come from, and to broaden your horizons with other, more varying, more meaningful ideas besides.

Now, as for your other, more loaded question - I will not be making TF2 transphobia headcanons, because I do not want to and would not be comfortable doing it. I know you meant neither offense nor harm by asking, and none is taken, but that's a firm "no", and now I have to clarify why because I want anyone misinterpreting my stance here.

I live in a place where same-sex marriage is still illegal. Transgender people have no legal rights in this country, and I have found myself wondering "Is this the part where I get hate-crimed?" much more often than I would wish even upon my worst enemies. So, no, I'm not one of those who think you can never ever put bigotry in your stories and headcanons because something-something gay people can have stories that aren't tragedies. Because fuck me, some of us are still living those tragedies, and many people have it way worse than me in the year of bloody 2023, so - I'm getting off track. The point is, you can put anything in your stories. You can have your characters deal with internalized or systematized bigotry, and I think that's perfectly fine, whichever way you may want to do it.

The reason I'm not doing it is ONLY because I myself, personally, don't want to. Not because it is rude, or immoral, or wrong, or "problematic" (I hate this word), or children might read it, or it's bad representation, or any such bullshit argument. It's just me, and I'm very tired, and I hope nobody sends me any negativity over this, but I've kinda braced myself already so go ahead anyway. Cheers!

[ghoul-haunted]

The Hetairia of Cassius and the Recruitment of Brutus, Luciano Canfora

[angelwheat]

TF2; masterlist

*note: some links within my masterlists tend to mess up and direct to the wrong post. i apologise in advance if you are directed to a potentially triggering post. do message me so that i can correct any links!*

- Entire Team

Mercs and their kisses

Mercs and their S/O, Down Time

Mercs and their S/O who under-eats

Mercs with a quiet, but chatty when nervous, S/O

Mercs comforting their S/O

One Random Headcanon Each

S/O That Likes To Be Pampered

RED Team; Reaction To BLU Team Member Helping Them During Battle

S/O Play Fighting With Them

New Admin's Assistant

S/O With Self-Harm Scars {TW*}

- Offence Class

Nothing...

- Defence Class

Ideas Of A Perfect Date

- Support Class

Making their S/O smile {NSFW*}

Dating

Fatherhood

Short S/O

Pregnant S/O

- Scout

RED and BLU team discover Scout's secret relationship

Random Scout Headcanon #1

Random Scout Headcanon #2

Friendship Headcanons

- Soldier

Random Soldier Headcanon #1

- Pyro

Random Headcanons

- Demoman

Random Headcanon #1

Relationship With S/O

First Time With His S/O {nsfw*}

Demoman X Reader (One-Shot)

- Heavy

Being Best Friends With Heavy

Picnic Date With His S/O

Random Headcanon #1

- Engineer

Short, Chubby S/O

Random Headcanons

- Medic

Marriage

Sick S/O

First Time With S/O {nsfw*}

With A Crush On Someone

Touch-Starved S/O

- Sniper

Sniper X Reader (One-Shot)

First Time With His S/O {nsfw*}

S/O Who's Fond Of His Voice

- Spy

Learning That His S/O Trusts Him

Romantic Headcanons

- Misc

Touch-starved Mercs

Sniper & Engineer; Merc In Training Calls Them "Dad"

Soldier, Sniper, Spy; Their Crush Is Spoiled By Her Brothers

[camthesolemnone]

Für Liebe und Leben (For Life And Love) - Heavy And Medic

I recently watched a video in which couples were interviewed about their relationship, except the people were interviewed separately so they could truly express how they felt about their partner without feeling pressured by them. I decided to do a fun similar thing here with Heavy and Medic (specifically Misha and Josef from my AO3 series, but if you’ve never read it, you don’t need context to enjoy this).

If you guys like it enough, I might do another ‘interview’ in the future with a different TF2 pairing. Let’s get on with it!.

Heavy’s Story

Interviewer: Hello and thank you for joining us today! In this interview, we will be asking you seven questions about you and your significant other. Also be aware that your partner will not be seeing or hearing any of this, so feel free to be open and honest with us. To start off, and this doesn’t count towards the question set, what is your name and occupation, sir?

Heavy: I am Misha Baranov, but my teammates refer to me as Heavy because I used to be a Heavy Weapons Guy for mercenary team. I am retired now, and is very nice.

Interviewer: Alright Mr. Baranov. It says here in our records that you partner’s name is Josef Ludwig, correct?

Heavy: Da. I call him Doktor. He used to mend me on battlefield.

Interviewer: What is the current status of your relationship with Josef?

Heavy: Ah! We are married! Not by law, but in deep depths of our hearts. It was small but grand affair: I proposed to him one night while we were dancing with one another, and then we held the ceremony in our backyard--I probably should have mentioned we live in warm cottage in Germany. Anyways, we had family and friends over, and even though Heavy was, heh, a ‘nervous wreck’ as Americans would say, it is still the happiest day of my life. I will never take off this ring, even if Josef demands me to. I love him far too much for that.

Interviewer: When you first met with him, was it a sort of love-at-first-sight scenario, or did your relationship grow steadily?

Heavy: I think it took a while for Doktor to warm up to me, but I definitely pick the former. When I first met him, I was left captivated by his eyes; they are as blue as the vast, deep ocean. He also stood strong and proud. I admired his confidence in facing such a large man like myself, and as our contracts went on, I found myself falling more and more for handsome, crazy doktor. Heheh, he is more stable now, but Heavy misses the excited glint in eye when he was about to preform surgery.

Interviewer: How do the two of you resolve conflicts?

Heavy: We usually sit down and have serious conversations. I am very passionate man, so I work hard not to raise my voice. Josef has harder time with these things, but he also takes time to slow down and apologize if needed. Long hugs and kisses help too. Doktor loves kisses! We have many silly arguments, so when I feel things are not worth fighting over, big smooch can disarm situations easily!

Interviewer: What are some of your favorite things to do with your partner?

Heavy: We enjoy many things together. We own lots of doves, fun to play with and take care of. There is also a mountain behind our home, so we hike up it and stargaze occasionally. Other than that, reading, eating good food, and dancing is always better with Doktor! We share a deep love of classical music too. Sometimes, if we are listening to Russian symphony on record player outside and he is not paying attention, I will put leetle flowers in his hair! Josef hates it, but is very funny and Doktor looks very cute wearing daisies.

Interviewer: If you could go back in time and change one thing about your relationship, what would you modify?

Heavy: That is hard question. Most of time spent with Doktor has been blissful, hmm...da, I know. I would go back and save Doktor from evil Spy during our mission in Turbine! We were so close to winning that match, but Josef got stabbed and--I am sorry. Contract says I can not say anymore.

Interviewer: What would you consider to be the main factors that keep your relationship alive and healthy?

Heavy: It is the leetle things we do each day to show affection to one another. Doktor likes to let Heavy sleep in and then wakes me up with a hot breakfast. He is also very talented gardener, did you know that? He grows pretty flowers and then makes bouquets for me, is very romantic. As for me, whether it is in general life or more...intimate times, I always make sure my husband is aware that he is cherished. Secret reservations at fancy restaurants may be my favorite way to surprise him, but unexpected hugs and poems I put on sticky notes before leaving him for the store are good too. Seeing Josef smile, even just a leetle, lights up my world like nothing else.

Interviewer: Final question, Mr. Baranov. What would you say is the most important part of a relationship?

Heavy: Above all else, the most important thing, no matter the scenario, is to reassure your partner again and again that you love them and that you will always be there for them, even if bad times are ahead. I said to Josef on wedding day that even if death plans to separate us, I will never stop thinking about him. Da, perhaps I have doomed myself to endless suffering in the future, but until then, I will continue to bathe in his light and love. I know you are not going to hear this Josef, but...Ya tyebya lyublyu.

Medic’s Story

Interviewer: ...What is your name and occupation, sir?

Medic: Ich heisse Josef Ludwig, and I am a retired doctor and battlefield medic. My contract prohibits me from giving further details.

Interviewer: Thank you, Mr. Ludwig. Now, it says here your partner’s name is Misha Baranov, correct?

Medic: Jawol.

Interviewer: For our first official question, what is the current status of your relationship with Misha?

Medic: Legally, we are recognized as cohabitating, but if we lived in America, I think then our status would be married by common law. Although personally, I do not believe the status or title associated with the relationship matters. Not much changed between me and Misha after our...eh hem, frankly illegal wedding ceremony, and I’m content that it didn’t. If people ask us about it, we tell them that we are in love, plain and simple. We always have been, and we always will be.

Interviewer:  When you first met with him, was it a sort of love-at-first-sight scenario, or did your relationship grow steadily?

Medic: Ah, well...don’t tell him I said this, but my heart jumped at our first meeting. Before we knew one another, I was married to a woman in Germany for nearly ten years. I would say the love and excitement for each other died after merely four months, so by the time I met Misha, I was dying to find a reason to divorce my wife. I was working in my office one day when suddenly this ginormous bear of a man walks in; I honestly thought he was going to kill me if I walked wrong! But his voice was so compassionate, like we had been lifelong friends, and his huge hand shook mine with the gentleness of a child...Misha could easily break all of my bones if he so wished, yet he holds me as if I’m a precious, fragile flower. Which is not true, I may add!

Interviewer: How do the two of you resolve conflicts?

Medic: Talking things through is the best solution. I will admit, I have said things to Misha in the past that I regret, but I have always tried to find ways to make up for my hurtful words. If we are especially irritated, we may take a nap together to diffuse some of our anger. Misha will probably say this in his interview as well, but we have many teasing fights over tiny, insignificant things. They are always so fun, more of poking at each other’s outrageous ideas than our emotions.

Interviewer: What are some of your favorite things to do with your partner?

Medic: Would it be wrong if I said everything? In all seriousness, without work, most of our days consist of doing chores or spending time with one another, so it’s hard to find something the both of us don’t like doing together. We occasionally talk with our teammates and Misha’s family over the phone, but I’ve been considering getting a job at the Krater [Krater is the village Heavy and Medic reside in] botanical gardens. Not to say that I don’t want to spend time with meine kushelbar, but as a doctor, I can say with confidence that separation in moderation can be emotionally and mentally healthy for couples. Erm, what was the question again?

Interviewer: If you could go back in time and change one thing about your relationship, what would you modify?

Medic: Well, you see, I hid from Misha at the start of our relationship that I was married. When he found out, he was absolutely furious and nearly broke up with me at first. We managed to make it through that incident, but if I could go back and time and convince my younger self to just tell him the truth, we could have avoided a large fight like that.

Interviewer: What would you consider to be the main factors that keep your relationship alive and healthy?

Medic: I would definitely say it has been our honesty and loyalty towards one another. Aside from the incident I just mentioned, I have never lied to Misha. Well...maybe I fibbed a little about what happened to his steak leftovers after our dinner date on Valentines Day. Hah, my arsch hurt so bad the next morning--OH! Yes, loyalty! Misha has always stuck by my side: on the battlefield, during my divorce, whenever I have a sudden mood swing...As cliche as it sounds, I honestly can’t imagine a future without him.

Interviewer: Final question, Mr. Ludwig. What would you say is the most important part of a relationship?

Medic: Some of my colleagues have very differing opinions from mine, but I believe that in any relationship, it is important to be honest and true not just to the other person, but to yourself. It is so easy to force yourself into staying with someone you do not care for, so you must follow what your heart yearns for. I also advise all new couples and people who are not in relationships, hölle, even people who have been in long-term relationships to be mindful of how your partner is treating you! If they are manipulative, it becomes even harder to believe in yourself and to get help. Find someone who truly loves you for you and someone you can trust in your darkest hour. Aii...I’ve really become a sentimental old man, haven’t I? Hahaha, look what you’ve done to me, Misha!

[tf2hcs]

can i get uhhhhhhh.. trans merc head canons?? maybe found family?? thanks!

you can DEFINITELY get trans merc headcanons. comin up hot. i have so many headcanons pertaining to the mercs being trans that i can’t fit them into one post, so i’m just gonna do stuff related to transitioning here, and if you wanna hear about how i think they realized they’re trans or came out, ill do a post about that too

Soldier:

you know how cis people think that you have dysphoria ur whole life and then you get The Surgery (The Surgery) and it all goes away that very day? and that’s just. it? solider is the only person on earth for whom that holds true

he has rod-insert phalloplasty and double incision top surgery

Jane Doe is actually his real birth name, it doesn’t give him dysphoria so he just kept it

his phalloplasty used his arm as the donor site, so he’s got a patch of pinkish skin on his left arm

he transitioned pretty early on, maybe in his early twenties. he’s known he’s trans since he was a kid

shaving gives him INTENSE gender euphoria

Scout:

he just went on T and boy is he excited

he runs in his binder (dumb) and frequently binds with bandages (dumb), so he has at least one deformed rib. twinsies 

like as SOON as he finds out medic is trans he asks for top surgery & gets it. he gets periareolar top surgery

when medic explains to him that periareolar top surgery keeps nipple sensation intact but double incision doesn’t he immediately starts calling the other mercs “numb-nips”

“it’s my shot day someone come stab me in the așs”

he didn’t choose his own name, his mom chose it for him when he came out. if he chose it it would’ve CLEARLY been tommy, as a tribute to tom jones

Medic:

double incision top surgery

i know this is wildly unrealistic but it’s tf2 so i will claim it. medic gave himself top surgery and instead of giving himself nipple grafts he just like, carved a smiley face and star of david on there

he knows the most about trans health and history out of all the mercs (partially because he’s old, partially because he’s a doctor, partially because he’s more involved in the community than the others)

because of this the other mercs come to him for help with trans issues a lot

he wants to have a baby biologically SO bad. so so bad. i think i get this headcanon from how lovingly he holds that baboon baby in the comics

he works really hard to preserve his fertility throughout his transition and as he gets older. he doesn’t end up being able to have a baby until he’s in his 50s but he’s so happy when he does

i could go off about my dad medic headcanons for hours but ill save that for another post if u guys request

Demo:

double incision top surgery for this guy too

talks about being trans all the time (every time i watch meet the demo and he says “i got a manky eye, i’m a black scottish cyclops” i mentally add transgender to the list)

constantly jokes about how he “blew it off” (you know what “it” is)

he has relatively bad dysphoria his entire life, but being open about it really helps

he doesn’t even know soldier is trans until he asks about the skin graft on his arm. he sees him use his rod implant and he just accepts that that’s how penises work

you know how being skilled with explosives runs in the degroot family?? my personal headcanon is that transness is also genetic to the degroots. both of demo’s parents were trans. ill talk about this more in another post if u guys want

Heavy:

no top surgery, his chest is a little large compared to a cis guy’s but his overall size makes it look more normal

if he ever does get top surgery, though, he gets inverted T/anchor incision

he has PCOS. he got a hysterectomy when medic was rooting around in there for the first time and noticed the cysts (”there will be so much more room in here once we get rid of your uterus!!” “room for what?” “…oh, you know”)

i think he might get full meta?? (as in metoidioplasty) i cant decide if he’d want a vaginectomy though. help me decide

Spy:

double incision top surgery. he paid top dollar for it, it’s very nicely done

he refers to his top surgery as a “mastectomy” (which is the correct term but like, who says that)

he gave birth to scout. he was pregnant when he met scout’s mom, and after he gave birth to scout he ended up leaving him with her. i cant decide if it was more of a “can you please take my baby” situation or a “im going to the store to get milk” situation. either way though i don’t think scout’s mom would’ve objected to keeping him, he was an adorable baby

he owns so many packers. he gets them custom made. he has them displayed in his closet like designer wigs

Sniper:

no surgery at all! he never plans on getting it either. that’s why he has the vest

his chest is like, small and somewhat muscular. you guys have seen skinny trans men with muscle tîtty before i don’t have to explain this to you

actually i want you to take this discord screenshot. i said this last thursday

he’s one of the most obviously trans mercs because he just insists on dressing like he based his outfit off the wikihow article for how to pass as male

i can say a lot more about my trans hcs for sniper in another post but im trying to keep this one at a readable length (failed step one)

Engineer:

no top surgery!

i think he has simple meta or maybe full meta without a vaginectomy (*epic rap battles of history voice* you decide)

he transitioned much later in life than the other mercs, his transition only actually started like five years ago

Pyro:

they’re agender!!

AFAB with no surgery or HRT

they use they/them pronouns or alternating he/she (”he’s not here, is she?”)

there’s not much to say about pyro’s gender! they just don’t have one

OH HOLY SHIT DO THE MERCS THROW THEM A GENDER REVEAL PARTY

ASKFLDLJSDKFLJDSFLKSDJFDLSKFJLSK

BONUS

Miss Pauling:

you know how when some trans women start hrt, they get really bad cravings for pickles? miss p has that like hell

she eats a hot pickle in her car every single day. it gets to the point where the people who work the graveyard shift at mcdonalds remember her (she has a habit of ordering “a fry container full of pickle slices”)

she takes estrogen but she doesn’t have any surgery! i dont think she ever gets any

scout very nervously explains to her that he’s trans at one point and all she can do is blink and say “did you think i was cis”

thank you for taking this journey with me. now imagine how long this list would’ve been if i didn’t narrow it down

[inviswatch]

Spy tf2 headcanons because! Why not

He grew up in a large house in rural France, son to an important business man

As a child his parents subscribed to the idea that children should be “seen and not heard” and were this very strict about raising him to be a gentleman

He didn’t really have a childhood; his parents just made him study in his room all day long and would only see him at dinner, where he would be made to display perfect manners and keep his voice down

Obviously when he got older he snuck out of the house a TON which was his first taste of having to be stealthy

When he was a teenager, fencing became his outlet, and his parents actually allowed him to pursue it as a hobby

He actually got really good at it and won several tournaments, but he got banned at the age of 16 for fatally stabbing his opponent in the back and then had to spend two years in a correctional facility

Once he got out, he could no longer bear the strained relationship with his parents so he moved out without a warning and fled to Boston, where he changed his name

It was also at this time where he donned his balaclava

He learned English there and met Scout’s mom five years after he moved to Boston; he fell in love with her pretty fast and was originally planning to marry her but when she told him she was pregnant with his child he fled, not wanting to make the same mistakes as his own father made with him

Moved to New Mexico and got hired by Mann Co. there; he was one of the first people to work for them, predating even Miss Pauling

Had a little bit of a mental breakdown when his own son joined the team of mercs

His attitude towards the scout stems from being forced to face the thing he ran away from

Probably secretly wants to make amends with scout but doesn’t have the guts to do that directly (the closest he got was by disguising as Tom Jones)

[dragonlobertmab]

A very deep and thoughtful conversation I had with a small child on TF2

Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: La sucky player vs some pretty good players Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: this wont end well for me ★Cookie★ was automatically assigned to team RED (Voice) ★Cookie★: Spy! Crocop: try something besides pyro Crocop: maybe you might do something ★Cookie★ left the game (Removed from match by system) Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: I just need to get one more thing for the dragons fury Crocop: it's just you and me bb Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: I just noticed everytime one of us dies the announcer will just say team wipe *DEAD* Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: shiiite Crocop: ill go pyro Crocop: if u want Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Nah id rather have one free kill and then switch my own calss tbh Crocop: good luck Crocop: it's those micro dodges Crocop: that count Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: No my aim jsut reallly sucks Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: just& Crocop: that too *DEAD* Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: ye cheaky motherfucker Crocop: no need to touch you Crocop: my friend the cliff Crocop: will do the honors *DEAD* Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: your score: 16 mine : 0 Crocop: o wel Crocop: you're learning Crocop: young padawan Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: if you werent pyro this would honestly be much easier Crocop: oh Crocop: alright ill switch class then Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: K Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: At least your nice about this Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: oh you little FUCKING SHIT Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: i fuckin hear that Crocop: good Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: where he hell did ye put it now Crocop: somwhere Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Im gonna see if you have a pattern of some sort Crocop: good idea Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: A dispenser now Crocop: hmm Crocop: this isnt fair Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: That would be correct Crocop: okay *DEAD* Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: oh shit *DEAD* Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: that was fast as hell Crocop: good sentreh :D Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: i wouldntve died if i hadnt hit the wall Crocop: you don't fuck with my dispenser Crocop: im sorry *DEAD* Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: mission failed well try again next time Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: NO *DEAD* Crocop: ya got me Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: YOU WILL NOT PUT A DAMNED SENTRY THERE Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: that didnt count in the contract *DEAD* Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: I need to hit you twice and kill you i think Crocop: good luck Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Just dont piss me off and i wont a get kills Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Well piss me off too much i just get slightly worse then i already am *DEAD* Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: what killed me Crocop: a pipe bomb *DEAD* Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: i just pooped *DEAD* Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: popped* Crocop: takes a while to detonate Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: no explosion or anything just a death Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Seriously just so i can switch to an easier calss to use can i just get a free kill on ye Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: class* Crocop: gotta work for it Crocop: pyro is the perfect counter for demo Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Not with the dragons fury he aint Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: the delay on the airblast is really fuckin annoyin Crocop has found: The Southern Hospitality   Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Also about the 'you have to work for it' comment you added on to what i said Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Ive been trying my goddamn hardest *DEAD* Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: dont cap Crocop: just getting hp Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Youre beggining to become somewhat of an asshole being perfectly honest Crocop: <3 Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: also you are a douche for doing a heart Crocop: im sorry you're so upset Crocop: cry some moar Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: No im just speakin my mind im really chill right now its just a bit annoying to think youre playing with another player which Crocop: bro Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: is becomin an asshole Crocop: its just a game Crocop: let's all relax. Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: I am aware Crocop: sometimes i gotta remind u Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: We dont know eachother and that is the first time you said its just a game .-. Crocop: it seems you're getting a little bit too flustered for a video game Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: now thats not salt thats just the truth Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: im not lyin thats actually the first time ye said that Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Also you better be glad im not a child that plays fortnite because the fortnite community are obnoxious and annoying kids mostl Crocop: yes you're a smart little boy Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Rapey vibes noted Crocop: your teacher gives u all the smelly stickers Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: My teachers give me no sticker *DEAD* Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: stickers* Crocop: <3 Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: seriously can i just get one free kill to stop playing pyro im gettin bored as hell Crocop: this is how my grand papy Crocop: taught me how to play tf2 Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: what the fuck does that mean Crocop: do you want me to switch class Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Seriously though what do you mean by thats how my grand papy taught me to play tf2 because that had no context Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Yes Crocop: you're speaking gibberish my friend Crocop: it was a very concise statement Crocop: my grandpappy taught me how to play tf2 Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: No it really wasnt Crocop: maybe you should grow that lil brain Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: you said that with no context with what i was saying Crocop: so you can comprehend text without context Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: it was insanely random Crocop: not really Crocop: i mean we're playing tf2 Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: You didnt tell me how he taught you you just said thats how he taught you Crocop: aah Crocop: well i 1v1ed with him Crocop: until i got gud Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Well  at least someone taught you i had to learn myself Crocop: step 1 Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: and i had to get use to shit tons of lag Crocop: have a comfortable desk and mouse and keyboard Crocop: 2. enjoy Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: That literally explains nothing with how i learned Crocop: well theres no real learning to it Crocop: you're just good at it or not Crocop: it all comes down to reflexes and timing Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Thats.... Really really fuckin dumb Crocop: yeah. im sorry that you'll have to be that way Crocop: forever Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Not forever you were just taught to think in that way Crocop: this wasn't taught Crocop: this is a decade long observation Crocop: my smol friend Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: its impossible to stay the same exact skill level forver Crocop: sure there's small variation Crocop: with time played Crocop: but the tf2 pros have natural reflexes Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Youre a person that i would hate to be around in real life Crocop: when did i say i cared Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: When did i say i thought you cared Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Hm? Crocop: so then you're speaking into the wind Crocop: who cares buddeh Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Nobody really cares in life Cp_The_Sewer_Toad: Being honest its all lies Cp_The_Sewer_Toad left the game (Disconnect by user.)

[radiotorn]

hey bestie this is definitely not tori please do the tf2 ask meme odds if you are okay with that pleas thx ^_^ *frolicks away*

ANSWERING THIS SOOOO LATE but i want it OUUTT!! so here we GO

1- Who are your favorite tf2 content creators? hmhmhmmmmm….in terms of entertainment videos im sorta looking for someone but i like Kostamoinen, Winglet, STBlackST, CrazyScoutFIN, ShorK, Jesse Baumgartner & plus ive heard good things about Hoovy Tube but donnt know yet…..in terms of art…well…check my fav tag 😏 and also all my buddies and pals they're correct and right whenever they say things about thhe video game

3- Who is your favorite side character? I think Miss Pauling isn't a side character soo….i really like Heavy's family they r very awesome mode….i also have a soft spot for Olivia Mann i think too much about her and then i cry (yes…u can ask if u would like to…giggle) or MAGGIE GASP…i love mags....im going to give her the world and then more

5- Who are your LEAST favorite characters? hmmmmmm….ik ive said it before but i guess cheavy huh. OR classic soldier and scout i do not like them (the classic ones that come with cheavy ofc)

7- How did you find out about tf2? answered in the last ask for these, but from a ytp audio used in a flipnote if u rlly want it lmk

9- How long have you been in the fandom? funny enough i have the exact date bc i keep a journal. May 2nd 2021 is when i played the game for the first time so it started then

11- Favorite voice line? a LOT of them are engies lines again bc. well. like "Start prayin', boy!", "im wolverine-mean, you son of a bitch", and "you look a mite tongue-tied, son" they. he. im ok. im ok. im alright

13- What’s your favorite thing about the fandom? i stay within my small bubble most of the time, but i do technically have fandom to thank for introducing me to some really awesome people and mutuals :] so that i suppose! also the savetf2 tag is really really awesome

15- Do you have a NOTP? if so then what? scoutpauling and spyscout, to the max. one is incxst and the other is just. not right lol both are nem jó for me. the majority of them are either nice or just not my cup of tea

17- An unpopular opinion you have? hmm….yes! not in the terms of ppl not agreeing but just bc it hasnt been talked about but Maggie is Hungarian! she is to me and thats it ok. like theres more backing it up but its burried under a personal hc that is intertwined with an oc so.shrugs. shes hungarian to me even outside of self indulgence

19- RED or BLU? red :] i like the look of red bases more than the blu ones

21- What is your favorite piece from the tf2 OST? ROBOTS ROBOTS TO THE.MAX I LOVE. THIS SONG SOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH!!! I LOVE THAT!!! I OLOVE IT!!! it makes me feel so awesome

23- Who do you main? i kinda find myself maining someone different every once in awhile, but i'm mostly a demo or scout main! i try to at least know how to play every class a little (except spy. not yet i'm not ready)

25- What is your favorite ‘Meet the…’ video? meet the pyro i love that one…my favey….revolutionary for the time….

27- Which character would you get along the best with? OH HELL uhh hm hmmm hurm looks inside myself…realistically? probably scout or engie…but why must i choose…when we could all be friends….i have ten hands

29- Is there a character you loved at first but now you hate? nope! my love has only grown since i got into this game i find something to love in all the characters and those who i didnt like i still dont fuck with

31- Which character is overrated? i mean, i feel like scout obvs is but i also really like scout but ppl dont get him. they dont get it right u gotta get him right. i feel like that can be the case with a lot of overrated chars......spice it up with the portrayals and then it wont taste so bad even if theyre still overrated

33- Which character do you relate to most? (or as the cool kids say, “kin”) yknwo im not just saying this but i think a good blend of engie and sniper (moreso engie maybe) with like. seasoned with some pyro . like its the nonchalance with boiling autism rage and also. sparkle on. does that make sense

35- Best character design? FUUUCCKKKK U CANT ASK THATTTTT!!!….thats something i think that like. did something to me. like. getting into tf2 shaped my entire taste and outlook in a way. like. older ppl. older ppl swag is what i learned and all of them r so distinct and have their own silhouettes and outfits and AHGHGHHH its literally art to me….but ig if i HAD to choose its a tie btween heavy and demo

37- What is your favorite update? ok i have to make it clear i wasnt into the game for the time of the major updates but i think the very start of scream fortress..or ig the haunted hallowe'en special…is my favorite because i LOOVEEE scream fortress i love the halloween maps i love the season!!! I LOVE HELLTOWER MY DEAREST!!!!! I LOVE THE HALLOWEEN SEASON!!!!!! AND AUTUMN!!! …but other than that i think love and war is another aswesome one

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Commission for @frostedturquoise

Fandom: TF2      Pairing: Pyro/Spy

Request: Fantasy AU with pyromancer/assassin

Concept:  Assassin NB Pyromancer/Assassin - Date/NSFW

Title: Burn After Reading

Ash swirled through the desolate alley, sticking to the blood spatter and clinging to the corpses that littered the dingy brickwork. The artisan behind such destruction lingered, unusually, over the scene of the crime; swathed in shadows, as was his trade, and only barely discernible to the trained eyes.

Satisfaction coursed through the assassin’s veins at a job well done, though he lamented the mess it had made of his beloved hand-crafted boots; blood was such a pain to have to remove from leather. Ah, but that is the inherent downside of having murder and deception as your primary trade… you can buy expensive attire, but it oft becomes ruined in the pursuit of the next commission.

A gout of piercingly bright flame announced the arrival of his beloved, and the means by which disposal would easily be adhered. Silhouetted in the weak starlight, nothing more than a vaguely menacing shadow, was the one other sentient being on this whole miserable world that the Assassin could stand…

“Yes, yes, very impressive… as always.” He says, lips curling in his trademark smug smirk, “Then again, mon amour, there is little about you that it not… is there?”

Swathed in layers upon layers of obscuring protective attire, the pyromancer strode towards the corpses, eyes glued upon them in fascination through the hooded slits in their mask. They loved the way the assassin worked, the little details of how and who and why, all culminating in a gift to him… things to burn. Criminals and miscreants to offer up to the flames that the pyromancer adored with the same passionate fervour as they did their shadowclad lover.

“One moment, my little firebug…” the assassin implored, moving forth to kneel by the closest corpse. Deft fingers danced through the tattered clothing, eventually pulling forth an item, before he moved to the next in order to repeat the process. “One does not get paid if they do not bring back proof,” he explains, displaying a handful of similarly crested jewellery.

The pyromancer tilts their head, thinking about the nature and significance of what was being presented; either it meant a family… or, maybe a conspiracy. They hoped for the latter, for in that case there would always be more to feed their beloved flames…

“You are correct, to an extent, mon amour…” adds their lover, “It was a conspiracy born of a certain high-class family, intending to overthrow the current leaders through nefarious means… however, they never assumed to be caught. Conspirators and sabetours never do, do they?” The assassin tosses the items up and down, bouncing them in his palm with no small degree of pride as he intones, “Long live the house of Blu…”

Clapping their hands in delight, the Pyromancer celebrates with him. Such a large family, the illustrious Blus, removing even a fraction of them would be a fantastically long adventure! Somewhat muffled by their face mask, the pyromancer tilts their head at the pile of bodies in query. “May I feed the flames now?” they ask, in a tone that no mere mortal born of human flesh could ever hope to achieve.

It was an addictive voice, and every time he heard it, it sent thrills of pleasure shuddering through his body. The assassin was convinced that they must have some paranatural parentage, something supernatural surging through their veins that was so alluring, and yet terrified others.

Few had ever had the privilege of seeing them without their mask, and he was honoured to be among them. But the ethereal form they held was something… that definitively marked them out as something more than human, like a living candle, almost. He adored them, and made sure to show how much he loved every inch of them when they were alone together.

Assassins had many skills, but he was at least glad that some of his could bring great joy to his beloved through both murder and more intimate techniques. As was the case now, when his single acquiescing nod sent a delighted smile blooming across the pyromancer’s hidden features; no, one could not see it, but they were so intricately aware of one another after all this time… that the assassin could sense it. And it warmed his heart, like nothing else.

With an elated reverence, the pyromancer called forth flames of piercing brightness that squirmed and wiggled about their arms, like excited pets. Laughter, soft and gentle and unearthly filled the air with a preternatural degree of delight as they directed the living flame towards their target; each little flicker appearing to leap eagerly onto the corpses, enveloping whatever they could until culminating in an inferno. The heat was staggering, as was the smell, but neither present seemed to be put off by that; they had spent too long doing such things to become skittish now.

The assassin procured a cigarette from somewhere upon his person and leaned forwards to the flames; an obliging spark leaned out and tapped the end, setting it smoking. He nodded his thanks, and took a well-deserved drag; relaxing as he fingered the jewellery that would make them a king’s ransom this night.

As the corpses became charred remnants, leaving almost no trace of identity or humanity save the odd bone here and there; their ashes scattered on the wind, intermingling with those wafting from hearthfires all over the town. Such a convenient means of disposal…

Finally, his schedule was clear to do a little spoiling.

The Assassin sidles up to the Pyromancer, who was gently patting the remaining flames and encouraging them to go back to sleep for when they would next be needed, and placed a kiss on their masked cheek. “Meet me by the lightning tree in an hour, mon amour… I would to take you out this night.” he whispered, feeling the barest inclination of their head in response, before disappearing into the night.

                                                         ~)0(~

Though most would be stashed in secret places under different names that could never be linked back to him, the assassin had taken his due payment for the eradication of the known extremists from his current employers, and decided to line several of his hidden pockets with enough to spoil his beloved firebug. His path through the dark streets went unnoticed by the many traipsing drunkenly past from tavern to tavern, nor was he spotted by the couples out strolling under the moonlight on such a clear night. Of course, he could have used magic to receive such discretion, but the assassin considered it a matter of pride that he be able to escape notice in plain sight, from skill alone.

His path to their secret meeting place was stalled on several occasions as he had to pause to purchase something to enhance their night together; which brooked some argument from more than a few hastily roused shopkeepers, until a sharp blade to their throats and the promise of shiny coins silenced their protests. Indeed, he had nearly been decked by the butcher, but all was well when he walked away with quite an enticing cut of meat wrapped and stashed within a secret compartment of his cloak.

Out of the slowly-growing town, past the winding main path and through a series of ruins was a forest; it was notoriously dark, dangerous, something allegedly full of glowing monsters and the like that parents liked to warn their children of. Naturally, the only glowing creature the assassin had ever encountered within the forest was the pyromancer themself, and a few of their fire sprites…

Speaking of which. As he stepped foot in the shadowy edge of the forest, little sparks arose from behind rocks, clearly having been waiting for him. The assassin held out a gloved hand to let a few sit, whilst others moved ahead and cast their light on the hidden path, so he would not lose his way. They would not harm him, even if touching bare skin, as he had learned many years before; such endearingly warm little creatures they were, when not feasting upon corpses, and he had grown to love them as much as the pyromancer.

“You’re here!” came that scintillating voice, as he broke through the dense trees and into the clearing. The lightning tree, charred and humming with electricity, stood imposingly above them all to one side; trees lining all sides but one, where a large series of boulders had been coerced, by flame, to melt into a shelter of sorts. It would be seen as an overhang, really, but the weather around here was rarely so wild as to require anything more rain-repelling.

Should a storm arise, they would simply move into one of the many secluded houses the assassin had purchased under various pseudonyms over the years; the closest of which was not five minutes’ walk away. A little rudimentary for the assassin’s refined tastes, but still, much loved by the pyromancer… although, it could be the large fireplace that lured them more than the promise of a soft bed or a shower. Who knew?

“Indeed I am, my little firebug, and what a welcome I received from your darling little sparks!” he charms, sweeping into the clearing with a side beam of delight. Only together were they ever really themselves… the masks, literal and figurative, left behind. A small flock of sparks hovered around his head, pulsing delightedly at the compliment; some nudging against the assassin’s unguarded face. He could not help but laugh, their warm flames tickled where they landed.

“Could it be they sensed I had brought them…” he pauses for dramatic effect, catching the attention of all the sparks in the clearing as he pulls out a large bag from beneath his voluminous coat, “some of their favourite charcol? Hmmm?”

He was nearly blinded by the sudden flare of excitement from them all, but the amused laugh from his pyromancer was more than enough to make up for it. The assassin sprinkled out the charcoal, and the sparks fell on it like pigeons to seed; flashing strange colours in their intense excitement. Beautiful, adorable, so easy to please and yet, you could not help but to spoil them as one would a favoured child.

“They’re going to be too full to start even a grassfire tonight, you know that don’t you?” the pyromancer admonishes gently, but clearly they had anticipated his spoiling of the sparks, because there was already a good fire blazing in the midst of the clearing. They press a kiss to his cheek, and his heart feels as bright as the sparks, delighted from pleasing them so effortlessly. “How can you pretend to have such a cold heart, when you are so kind?”

“Easily, mon amour, for you and the sparks are the only things I could ever be warmed by… everyone else is merely, a contract waiting to be fulfilled.” he purrs, pressing closer to feel the warmth… and jerking back suddenly. “Ah, yes, I had forgotten! I have procured us the finest assortment of meat and vegetables that one could threaten out of dozy shopkeepers at this hour…”

He paused, “Unless you would prefer I go and steal away a meal already made, that is. We don’t have to cook anything, if that is not your wish…”

It was too late, they had already taken the food parcels and were busily sprinting across to the firepit; expertly assessing each item and deciding which spices and herbs to use. Cooking was, it had shocked the assassin to discover, their other great passion; though when he realised just how many meals could be cooked atop a fire, it became somewhat more understandable.

Twirling a knife in his hands, he moved over to the large flat boulder that had always served as a rather impromptu bench, and began expertly slicing up the vegetables. They did not speak to one another, but moved in an effortless tandem born of years together, of anticipating without realising. It was a mesmerising dance to behold, and yet, none but the sparks were privy to such a sight. And they would want it no other way.

                                                     ~)0(~

Pressed close, side-by-side they finished their meal, the bench at their back and firepit to the fore, allowing them to bask like well-dressed lizards in the warmth of their own personal sun. Dinner had been devoured swiftly, and each morsel was tastier than the last; or at least, that is how it seemed to the pair. Though perhaps it was the company, more than anything, that made the evening feel so divine.

The assassin rested his head on their shoulder, feeling fingers intertwine with his own as the both gazed into the dancing flames; safe, sated and content. All emotions and sensations that one in his profession rarely experienced more than once in their lives, and yet, he had it whenever he wished… for the pyromancer was always there, always with him. And he, with them.

Sometimes his work required subterfuge, seduction, going undercover… and yet, it was never held against him. Though sometimes, the assassin felt it should; the pyromancer never made him feel as if he had abandoned them, or betrayed them by using his more carnal skills to lower a target’s guard… but it had begun to wear on him. Perhaps it was merely that he had been working so often lately, that this subtle pleasure of being with the one he loved, had been denied so long.

“It’s okay.” they breathed in his ear, turning their head just enough to press a kiss to his temple. He had long suspected that they could read his mind, or maybe it was simply that his lowered guard around them allowed the pyromancer to read his thoughts on his cursedly-expressive face. “You do what you do for us, and because you enjoy it. Like when I burn things, sometimes important things... or when the sparks and I go away for a little while, and you’re left alone.”

“I would never stop you from such things, mon amour… but that is different. When you go away, there is no chance that you will not return, or that you have been seducing people just for the chance to slide a knife between their ribs.” he pauses, frowning. “Actually, mon amour, are you perchance sneaking away to have an affair with a rather attractive volcano or somesuch other fiery temptress behind my back?”

They laughed, as he had intended, and that same gentle thrill of warmth flittered through the assassin. Their warm eyes turned upon him, so like molten gold he could barely begin to guess where the fire’s reflection ended, and their irises began…

“If you wanted to know you must only ask, oh smoke to my flame…” they smiled, and he knew they were toying with him. That nickname only came into play when they wanted something, usually-... oh.

Turning slightly, they pressed their well-honed body along the length of his own, and warmth seemed to blossom between the pair. “My smoke, it doesn’t matter where you go or who you share yourself with or why… as long as you return to my flame when you are able, so I know you are safe.” they whispered hotly into his ear, pressing a kiss beneath it, and trailing down his throat as their fingers expertly unlatched the cloak clasp at his throat. Hands slid beneath his dark tunic, running the length of his torso; muscular but not as much as his lover’s; pitted with scars, detailing a life fraught with close encounters with death.

He arched into the sensation, taking the rare opportunity to not think, not plan, not be on his guard at all times. It was not rare that they traded roles, but it had been some time, and more often than not the Assassin tended to enjoy wringing every last shrill cry of pleasure from the other with his ministrations. But this… this was also good.

“When your mind is full of heavy things, you just need a spark to clear it away…” they hummed, half to themselves as the pyromancer swiftly divested him of his tunic. Teeth nipped at his collarbone, and a hot tongue laved the minor discomfort away, before trailing languidly to his chest. The assassin felt their arousal pressed against his own, and somewhat impishly rocked his own hips against them; they gasped, then retorted by grazing a nipple with their teeth so he shuddered. A noise escaped, part surprise but mostly unintelligible. He felt their grin pressed against his abdomen as they moved down slowly, oh so slowly, trailing hot wet kisses that slowly cooled despite the warmth of the fire before them.

Boots already tossed aside before dinner, it was a simple matter for the other to slip off the assassin’s remaining attire and toss them aside. Spreading the cloak against the ground, the pyromancer coerces his lover into laying down, and slides between his thighs to press teasing kisses and nips along the sensitive flesh. Bare, in every conceivable meaning of the word, the assassin’s trust in them was as erotic as anything else; to be so close when he was so vulnerable and willing, was a gift. One that the firebug wished to reward.

Their hand lightly caressed the hot, heavy length as it stiffened under their gaze and begging for attention. The assassin held himself still, quietly awaiting whatever pleasure was to come, shivering lightly as hot puffs of breath ghosted over his sensitive skin. He gasped as their tongue painted a slick stripe of spit along his shaft, teasing the head with a roll of that talented oral appendage, before moving down to kiss at his balls. Sucking one into their mouth, and tickling with their tongue before releasing it to repeat the process with the other…

His hands clenched into the cloak, limbs trembling as they remained as still as possible for their lover; panting lightly, as a pleasure-induced flush began to creep up into his cheeks. They licked again, and he huffed a small cry of pleasure as they sunk down on the head; moving to envelop the head and explore every inch with just their tongue… until he was shuddering from the sensation. The pyromancer grinned, lewdly allowing spit to dribble down the shaft where their hand now grasped and twisted along with the bobbing rhythm of their head; and his breath came in short gasps now. Every nerve ending tingling as the sensation seemed to grow with every movement. Heat pooled within his abdomen, tight and roiling like a volcano ready to to erupt…

And he jumped, slightly, as he felt a far-too-cool slick of lubricating potion being applied to his hole by the pyromancer’s free hand. How had they known he’d brought that? No matter… They gave an apologetic suck, returning to their enthusiastic task of drawing his cock deeper, and deeper into their mouth until it felt like they would swallow him whole. He moaned despite himself as the first finger slide inside, well-lubricated and wriggling about to acclimate the environment for what was to come.

The assassin wriggled his hips at the entrance of the second finger, and bucked back onto the third, torn between the desire to thrust forward into the wet heat… or back upon the well-slicked fingers. His balls were tightening as he warned the other, who tapped him twice on the leg to say they understood… and to give permission for him to thrust, they would be okay.

Unable to stop himself, the assassin sated both desires simultaneously, frantically thrusting forwards into the pyromancer’s sinfully hot mouth, and down upon the fingers thrusting languidly into his body just shy of where he needed them. The pleasure was bubbling hotly just under the surface, until he could take no more without losing his mind, and came in great hot spurts with a scream.

The pyromancer pulled away, dribbling a gooey white mess upon the pair as the assassin came, covering his own abdomen with ejaculate more than anything else. A small spurt hit the pyromancer’s cheek, and they laughed, wiping it off absently with a finger, and licking it clean.

Shuddering, feeling spent but not quite sated, the assassin tried to catch his breath as he felt the other move up his body to press a lewd kiss to his mouth. He could taste himself, and it was hilariously debauch to do so, from his perspective.

Their own hard length pressed against his abdomen, rutting gently against the assassin’s and slicking itself in his cum; the pyromancer shuddered, clutching tight to their lover as they rocked. It was a sinfully delightful sensation, and he hesitated to stop them but… who knew when they would have the opportunity again? He places a hand on their arm, and they freeze, looking down in concern. “Mon amour, would you not prefer to put all your excellent efforts to better use?” he queries, parting his thighs suggestively, and rubbing the reviving cock against that of his lover. Their eyes were wide in surprise, clearly being so lost in the moment that they had utterly forgotten that such a thing was a possibility.

“Are you sure?” they checked, slicking themselves and his hole again with an almost obscene amount of lubrication. He smiled, and nodded, and they kissed him deeply as their cock slowly slid inside the assassin with practiced precision. Slow, easy, methodical, and mindful of how the other was feeling…

“Ahhh, mon dieu... “ the assassin whispered, eyelids fluttering slightly as the long-absent sensation of being filled by the warm, thick length of his lover’s cock was restored to him. The pyromancer grinned, kissed the corner of his mouth and tugged experimentally at the assassin’s newly revived shaft, just to see him writhe.

They rolled their hips, and he gasped as they scraped over his prostate in a ludicrously lazy manner; it sent little bolts of lightning up his spine. Ah, they must do it this way far more often!

He thrust back slightly, regretting not being in a more favourable position to contribute… but then, they liked him like that, anyway. Where they could be in sole control of providing pleasure to him.

Just as he loved bringing them to the brink of oblivion, when he had the time and opportunity to do so…

Who could blame them?

They thrust slowly, gently in and out; a slow drag that reminded them both of how entangled they were, body and soul. Movements slowly growing in speed and strength with every passing moment, until the sharp slap of flesh against flesh could be heard ringing throughout the clearing. The assassin clung to their lover, rocking against each thrust and letting a strong of cries, praise and curses tumble free without censor. It was so good, he could almost feel himself ready to come again… and so soon after such an explosive orgasm? Clearly, they had magic of their own.

“Mon amour…” he moans, frantically pushing back against the swift thrusts and not caring for how sore he would feel later, only trapped in the moment wherein the pinnacle of pleasure was within reach. Their arms hold him tighter, their thrusts angling to relentlessly target his prostate until the assassin can barely recall his own name as his balls tighten almost painfully.

“Go on, my smoke… come for me… feed my fire,” they whisper, slamming into him with frantic need, their voice strained by how close they were to falling over the edge. He feels them drive into him again, again, again… and then it was too much. With a scream that they would probably hear all the way in town, the assassin feels his orgasm explode throughout his body, nails digging into the pyromancer’s back as his toes clenched. He shudders frantically as their thrusting continues while he comes between them, and feels their rhythm grow erratic.

Their breath comes out in harsh gasps as sweat beads off their forehead and falls onto his face. Eyes fixated on his own as they pump into his slowly relaxing body twice more before curling in around the assassin and coming with an unearthly beautiful cry of ecstasy. He strokes their face, chest, sides, whatever he can reach as they thrust through their orgasm; breathing heavily and trembling with exertion, relief, love and pleasure.

When at last both lovers have quietened, he draws them to his chest, holding them close. The assassin presses a kiss to the pyromancer’s temple, stroking patterns into the flesh of their spine, and watching the stars move. It feels like the hum of the universe is resonating through his bones, and by the ecstatic look upon their face, they must feel it too.

He is not sure when they pull away and disengage, only that at some point they do. Rising and cleaning themselves, automatically, before laying back down upon the cloak and allowing the sparks to create a blanket over the top of them. So very much like a pack of incendiary cats, those little creatures.

The pyromancer curls around him, and the assassin returns the embrace tightly.

He kisses them, sweetly. “Like a fire in the night, I will always be drawn to you, mon amour…”

They return the kiss, grinning as they begin to drowse. “And I love you too, smoke to my flame…”

The fiery blanket crackled, and the pair cracked open their eyes.

“And of course, we love you too, little ones…” the assassin reassured the sparks, who immediately calmed down.

And with that, those in the clearing slept well, sated and content in their tiny corner of the universe. All was well.

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

The End.

[izazaa]

[tf2] sniperspy prompt fill

TF2, Sniper/Spy

@usedtobehmc​: Spy inspires Sniper. (Not quite what you were expecting, I’m guessing, but I hope it reads easily enough :’D Thanks for the prompt!)

Spy is captured and Sniper has to win him back in a game of cards.

The bar is a shabby thing on the mainland, near one of the lesser used ports that Hale's using to smuggle weapons to the obscure island that he's converted into his Mercenary Park, and its occupants all turn towards Sniper as he pushes through its creaky doors – a casual curiosity at first, that sharpens to something nastier as they survey his six feet of foreigner, the rifle strapped to his back, SMG and kukri holstered at his waist.

This wouldn't faze him usually, but the stakes are much higher this time, and he can't help that cold sweat breaks out along his brow. Sniper is Sniper and not Spy for a reason; he's rubbish at this sort of trickery, rubbish at close range. But Spy is incapacitated, and the rest of his members back at the park, oblivious, so Sniper steels his nerves and saunters his way to the counter with false bravado.

"I'll take the best you have," he growls as he flags down the young woman behind the bar, slapping a bill on the table. The denomination is far larger than any drink has right to cost, but she slips it into her shirt, pours him a single shot glass of golden liquid, and doesn't give him any change.

The first shot burns as he leans against the counter with feigned disinterest, the second shot goes smoother, and as he turns to fetch a third, he spots Spy at the far end of the bar, nearly blocked from view by the burly, heavily-tattooed man perched on a stool between them. Sniper barely stops himself from flinching; though he hadn't expected anything pleasant, the sight of him – gagged, hands bound between back, crumpled in the corner – and his stomach drops.

The burly man leans into his view, scowling. "What you looking at, boy?"

In the haze of his camper, the orange light of dusk filtering through heady cigarette smoke, Spy had confessed a few tricks to his trade. "I don't lie," he drawled as he stretched out atop Sniper, light-hearted contempt curling off the tip of his tongue.

"That's a lie right there," Sniper accused as he swept his hand over Spy's back.

Spy pinched his nipple in reproach, but otherwise ignored him and continued, "I'm hardly a common swindler. Espionage requires more skill, and grace."

Twisting away from Spy's teasing fingers, Sniper rolled over to cover Spy's body with his. Murmured against Spy's neck, "Yeah?" to feel him shiver beneath him.

"I do not lie. I manipulate truths, and make them work for me." Spy tangled his fingers into Sniper’s hair and dragged him into a bruising kiss. Gasping as he pulled back to growl, "I make them mine."

There are few words after that.

Remembering this, Sniper jabs his finger towards Spy and says, "Him. I want him."

It's not a lie. His wrath isn't a lie either. He almost heaves a sigh of relief when the man, after scrutinising him, grunts, "Yea? He stole something from you too?"

"An' he hasn't paid me back," Sniper agrees. Curiosity wins over him, and he pushes off the counter, leaning past the man to peer at Spy. "Well, aren't you a sorry sight?" Spy doesn't look up, doesn't even react. Sniper's blood runs cold. "I want him," he repeats more urgently, "What's he worth to you?"

The man studies him, then says, "Ten thousand."

Ten thousand is… a lot. It is twice what he has on hand right now. Sniper refuses to delay getting him back. Mind racing, he blurts out, "I'll play you for him."

The man laughs in his face, an incredulous bark, but he sounds more amused than offended. "Dai di?" He pulls out a worn pack of card, with a sneer that suggests he doesn't expect a foreigner like Sniper to know it.

Dai di. Deuces. He's played it before; a team of liars and cheaters and card sharks and geniuses had to rotate card games often to keep it entertaining. Sniper tries not to let his relief show as he tells the man, "Challenge accepted."

Spy pressed against his side as they sit around a crate, playing cards by the light of a kerosene lamp. "You are a terrible bluff," he pointed out gleefully.

"Ain't my fault I'm playing with a weasel and the smartest man on base," Sniper grumbled, waving to Pyro as he added, "and whatever you are."

Spy snorted. "The labourer wins because he counts cards –"

Engie interrupted with a good-natured scoff, "The snake wins because he cheats."

"I bluff," Spy corrected with a smirk. "And the Pyro wins because they have… an impenetrable poker face. Among us, you would get more mileage following in Pyro's lead."

Sniper mulled this over, returned the head tilt that Pyro gave him with one of his own. "A poker face, eh?"

"May as well have that horse face be good for something –"

"Oi."

"– and you are observant, being a sniper. You should be able to glean some of their tells, if not mine. Give it a go, mon ami."

Sniper ended up losing the next three rounds anyway, because the air hung heavy with humidity; Spy had shed his jacket and the garters cinching his sleeves tight around his forearms were very distracting. But with the night so quaint, with Spy warm and languid at his side, Sniper found it hard to be upset.

He's never gleaned any of Spy's tells but the brute before him isn't Spy, and doesn't hide his tells as well. The muscle in his jaw ticks in an ill-repressed smile. He thumbs the corner of his cards impatiently when he wants Sniper to fall for his lure. There's a furrow between his brows that deepen as he realises Sniper's expression gives nothing away. There's a twitch at his right eye when he draws a bad card, and it twitches again when Sniper gains the upper hand, and it is positively throbbing as the final round draws to a close.

With a nasty, throaty chuckle, Sniper lays his hand down – a straight flush – and grins at the brute. "Too bad! Guess I'll be taking him."

"Guess again," the brute snarls, furious at being beat at his own game, and reaches for the gun at his hip.

At once, Sniper is on his feet. He reached towards his hip, not for the handle of his kukri, but his SMG. The way the eyes follow the path of his hand, then widen, was not lost on him. The brute and his friends are armed with rifles and pistols but more of them means more targets for Sniper to hit, especially if he lets loose in such a cramped space. A shoot out will not be pretty for any of them.

Bloody hell. What would Spy do in such a sticky situation? Stand in that cocky manner of his, chest puffed out, and lie his way out. But that was impossible; if Sniper even tried to mimic his posture, he'd fall back on his ass. Instead he draws himself to his full height, a good head taller than any other man here, and bares his teeth like a vicious animal. "I won him fair and square! An' I'll gun through the lot of you to get what belongs to me!"

The stalemate draws out for a long terse moment, before a clear voice rings out, "Let him go."

The young barkeep, who kept his change, to his rescue! She arches an eyebrow when the men begin to protest, and slams down a shot glass down against the counter. "Who wants to explain to Pa that they shot up his bar, harh?! He'll skin that pretty ink off you!"

As she whirls upon the brute – "And you! I saw you lose to that ang moh! Still want to say what?!" – Sniper hurries to Spy, yanking him up by his arm, masking his concern as another sneer when Spy lurches and hisses in pain. With no time to spare, Sniper hooks an arm around his waist and leads his hard-fought prize out of the bar, grinning fiercely.

As soon as they're safe in his hotel room, Sniper lowers Spy gingerly onto to bed, making sure not to jar his injuries. He's glad he had the presence mind to lay out the contents of his first aid kit on the rickety side table as he peels off Spy's shirt – there is a coconut-sized concave in the left side of Spy's rib cage, bones cracked inwards. A painkiller first, administered by needle, and then the lone health pack is applied to that cave in, admitting a soft red glow that contrasts with the sick crackling as Spy's ribs pop back into place.

Weakly, Spy whines as his most grievous injury heals, his eyelashes flutter as he strains to open his eyes, and then he's rasping, "Sniper! What a sight for sore eyes."

Sniper wants to laugh with relief, that Spy still has it in him to be a mouthy bastard. "Can't say the same for you." Just at a glance, Sniper spots ruptured blood vessels in one eye, bruises spread across his pale skin like watercolour, and numerous lacerations already yellow with infection in this tropical weather.

It's unclear if Spy hadn’t heard him, or if he chose to ignore him; either way, instead of replying, Spy hums under Sniper's careful hands, and informs him, "I saw your performance. Lying and trickery! I had not expected these from you! It was very impressive."

"No jab about how I learnt from the best?" No matter that Sniper did learn from the best. No matter that Spy does inspire him to be more. Gritting his teeth, Sniper sets about cleaning the open wounds next.

"That goes without saying. Why, with such a promising teacher, perhaps there's a spy in you after all!" This awful, heavy-handed innuendo is too much for Spy to tolerate, and he dissolves into feverish laughter.

"You're stupid," Sniper tells Spy shortly, focusing instead on looping bandages around his poor, abused torso.

"Oh no, don't learn that from me." Spy chuckles wetly.

Sniper thumbs away the blood from the corner of his mouth. "Learn what?"

"Petty insults in lieu of honesty."

Sniper looks away. "I was bein' real honest when I called you stupid."

"Sure, sure." Spy laughs again, and as he lists slightly, reaches out to Sniper for support. "Is that all you want to say to me?

Catching that hand, Sniper holds it against his cheek for a moment, bites his lower lip, then gives up his search for words, and turns his mouth to Spy's palm.

Spy huffs and leans into Sniper, sulking. "Well I'm glad to see you."

There's a petulance in his voice that makes Sniper snort. Helplessly, he abandons the first aid just for the moment, to rest his forehead lightly on Spy's shoulder, cheek against the side of his neck. "You're delirious," Sniper tells him, but with a sigh, relents. "I'm glad to see you too."

Drop me an ask with a prompt if you, too, want a haphazard prompt fill! (9*^*)9 I’ll be with my thesis until the next prompt, or the deadline o/

[competitivetf2]

Team Fortress 2 Update Patch Notes

BLOG DISCLAIMER: The first thing we would like to do is congratulate and thank @criticalflaw​ from @fuckyeahtf2​ for typing these notes out in plaintext, before realizing later today they would push the patch notes in plain text on the TF2 updates tab. 

We also see language such as “The Hot Hand” being called “The Slap Attack” and “Blood Money” being called “Stars”, meaning these notes may be out-of-date. We will also publish today’s patch notes unless they are the same. Regardless, please give criticalflaw your hands of applause since his hands have fallen off.

October 19, 2017 - TF2 Team

Field Notes

5 featured community maps: Mossrock, Lazarus, Brazil, Enclosure, and Banana Bay

1 new official map: Mercenary Park

5 new community taunts: The Dueling Banjo, The Jumping Jack, The Soviet Strongarm, The Russian Arms Race, and the Headcase

2 new official taunts: Yeti Punch and Yeti Smash

2 community cosmetic cases with 20 items each

2 new War Paint collections made up of community-made War Paints and official War Paints

2 new War Paints collection filled with classic weapons skins being brought back for another tour

4 new Pyro items: The Dragon’s Fury, The Thermal Thruster (with a new kill taunt: The Gas Blast), The Gas Passer, and the Hot Hand

1 new Heavy item: The Second Banana

Free contracts to earn the new Pyro and Heavy items

36 campaign contracts

Mercenary Park Gift Shop to select your campaign contract rewards

Equippable ConTracker to customize and track your campaign experience

General

Significant weapon and class balance improvements (see Gameplay Changes section below for full details)

Increased the maximum number of backpack slots to 2500 (from 2000)

The default voice codec now defaults to Steam Voice

Steam Voice is now using Opus audio at a higher bitrate than the default CELT codec

Added a new vaudio_celt_high option for sv_voicedec, allowing community servers to opt-in to higher bitrate voice chat

Fixed the Engineer being able to store Gunslinger’s melee crit for a future melee attack

Fixed a bug where the ammo from a picked up weapon could exceed the player’s maximum ammo allowed

Fixed a bug where the dispenser would use different bounds checks for distributing ammo and health

Fixed a bug where the player model would not play the attack animation for some weapons that fire bullets

Fixed the Bottle, the Scottish Handshake, and the Neon Annihilator not having their models break on critical hits

Fixed some of the Heavy’s edible secondary items not having the model update when the item is eaten

Fixed some outdated tips

Mannpower Mode

Knockout powerup now collects health pack health without subtracting their health bonus. Results in Knockout carriers collecting more health from each health kit

Resistance powerup now blocks backstabs

Fixed Engineers using the Eureka Effect to teleport out of hell on Halloween maps

Fixed the announcer sometimes saying “The tank is halfway through!” when a tank first spawns in Mann vs. Machine mode

Updated the Pallet of Crates to only drop crates and not cases

Players that have their movement slowed for any reason now have a status icon appear on their HUD (in the same area that displays other player effects, such as Marked-For-Death)

Added first-person inspect animations for all weapons

Added a disconnect sound when the Medic stops healing their target

Added news sounds for the Family Business, the Winger, and the Frontier Justice

Updated sounds for the Brass Beast and the AWPer Hand

Steam controller improvements

When using Steam controller configuration to configure non-Steam controller devices (e.g. Xbox controllers), the proper button icons are now displayer in the UI

Improved controller icon placement in some UI screens, including for players using less-common aspect ratio displays

Where text rather than an icons is used to indicate a controller binding, the text strings are now correct for non-Steam controller devices, and slightly more verbose in some cases to avoid confusion with regular keyboard bindings (e.g. “Press [B button] vs. “Press [B]”)

Fixed miscellaneous corner-case bugs where the wrong action set could be selected, and some edge cases with handling of multiple simultaneous actions during an action-set change

Added new action bindings for the most popular voice-line commands. The default controller template now binds “Call Medic!” to the directional pad. The following voice lines are also available, but are not bound by default: “Go! Go!” Go!”, “Move Up!”, “Spy!”, “Ubercharge ready!”, “Help!”

Community request – Added tf_playrounds/tf_listrounds debug commands to jump between mini-rounds on multi-stage maps

May not work on all maps if the map ties custom logic to entities other than the mini-rounds themselves (e.g. arbitrary capture zones (e.g. dustbowl))

Applied the match rejoin limitations in Casual to Mann vs. Machine as well

Players who leave a Mann vs. Machine match cannot matchmake back into that same game for several minutes

Players who are vote-kicked from a Mann vs. Machine match cannot matchmake back into that same game for several hours

Added Ready Steady Pan Season 3 tournament medals

Added ETF2L Highlander Season 13 and ETF2L 6v6 Season 28 tournament medals

Added TFCL Highlander Season 1, Ultiduo Season 4, 6v6 Season 3, 4v4 Season 1, and bball Season 1 tournament medals

Added AsiaFortress Cup Season 12 tournament medals

Added Insomnia61 tournament medals

Added CappingTV Ultiduo Winter Chalice tournament medals

Added RGL.gg Pack/Ban Prolander Participant tournament medals

Added ozfortress Season 20 tournament medals

Added Tip of the Hats 2017 community medals

Added Snack’s Summery Ultiduo Siesta Season 2 tournament medals

Updated the Mappers vs. Machines Participant Medal 2017 medal so it can be painted

Updated the Arms Race tournament medals so description tags can be used on them

Updated the TFCL Alpha medal to be paintable

Updated the Heartfelt Hug to be paintable

Parties

Parties can now be formed from anywhere within the game and persist through matches

Players are now able to join their party’s match if late joining is allowed

Added a new party interface that allows you to quickly manage and interact with your party

Added a global party chat system that allows party members to chat with each other from anywhere in the game

Party chat is printed in the in-game chat interface when in a game

Added ConCommand “say_party” (default bind ‘p’) that allows for party members in a game to chat with other party members using the in-game chat interface (similar to how “say_team” works for chatting amongst your team) and with members not in a game

Matchmaking

Redesigned the matchmaking screens to be lightweight overlays that can be summoned and dismissed from anywhere within the game

Moved the Casual and Competitive badge panels to the main menu

Casual

Levels now go beyond 150. All players now have a Tier in addition to their Level. All players start at Tier 1. When your Level goes past 150 your Level resets to 1, your Tier goes up by 1, and your Casual badge will change its appearance to reflect your new status

Players who had reached level 150 will have any experience beyond 45500 (the amount required to hit 150) put into an overflow pool. While playing Casual matches, any XP you earn will be matched and deducted from your overflow pool until it runs out.

The “Vote for the next map!” dialog can now be minimized to view the top scoring players

Contacts

The Contacts Drawer has been replaced with the ConTracker, a state-of-the-art PDA

You can now work on contracts at your own pace. It’s up to you to decide which ones to work on and in what order to work on them.

You can now make progress on Bonus Objectives while working towards completing your Primary Objective

Only one Contract can be active at a time

Contracts are now unlocked by spending Stars. Stars are earned by completing objectives.

Contracts can be turned-in once the Primary Objective is complete

Partially completed Contracts can be reactivated, for free, at any time

Party members who are on the same servers and the game team can now help earn progress on each other’s Contracts

Gameplay Changes

Multi-Class

Panic Attack

This is one of our least-used weapons. The main culprit seems to be the queued/delayed-fire aspect, which fights against the basic concept of the secondary slot on classes that can use this weapon (Soldier, Heavy, Engineer, Pyro); players generally expect a secondary that is immediately ready to fire – for the rare case, where their main weapon isn’t available (e.g. out of ammo), or isn’t the optimal choice (e.g. airborne, too close, etc.). Removing the queued/delayed-fire concept basically invalidates the original design, so we’ve started over.

Goal: Make the weapon immediately usable, remove the large burst potential (generally hard to balance), and give the weapon a unique design space to occupy.

New design:

50% faster switch speed

50% more pellets

30% less damage

Fires a wide, fixed shot pattern (regardless of server settings)

Shot pattern grows with successive shots (e.g. while holding down the attack button), but resets after you stop firing or reload

Reserve Shooter

Pyros are too easily able to take advantage of this weapon’s primary feature via airblast (i.e. no-penalty, on-demand launching of their target), and so their damage-potential can greatly exceed that of the other classes that also use this weapon. Rather than take a heavier-handed approach to solve this, we’ve instead decided to remove airblast as a source for mini-crits.

Attacks on target knocked into the air by Pyro airblast no longer mini-crits

Added: Attacks on target flying via the Thermal Thruster mini-crit

Spy

Ambassador

Players that are head-shot from across the map are expecting to see a Sniper in their death-cam, but they sometimes see (more often than we’d like) a Spy with a revolver

Goal: Reduce the effective combat range to something more reasonable and expected with the Spy

Changes:

Headshot damage is now subjected to distance falloff effects

Headshots beyond 1200 world units do normal (non-crit) damage

Dead Ringer

Feign death is an interesting effect, but a good Spy can use it extremely frequently making it frustrating to play against and reducing the risk of using it nearly constantly.

Goal: Rather than make it less interesting, let’s make it more predictable to fight against by removing methods by which Spies can reduce its cool-down. This should create more of rhythm to fighting against a Spy using this and introduce a little more risk to players using it.

Changes:

Ammo kits and dispensers no longer refill the Spy’s cloak meter

Your Eternal Reward

This is the least-used Spy knife (technically, the reskin is, but anyway…). While silent-kill and rapid-disguise-on-kill are good, the downside on this knife is extreme

Changes:

Removed: “Cannot disguise” penalty

Added: Non-kill disguise require (and consume) a full cloak meter

Backstab-based disguise are still free

Increased cloak drain rate by 33%

Scout

The Sandman 

The feedback on this weapon has been fairly consistent for a while: Players really hate losing the ability to fight back. Compounding this, the ball has to travel really far in order to disarm players. Being hit by a long-range ball (more often than not) ends up feeling random, rather than skilled.

Changes:

Long-range ball impacts no longer remove that victim’s ability to fire their weapon (but the victim is still slowed)

We’ve updated achievements that were looking for disarmed player

Max range balls now do 50% increased damage (from base of 15

The flight time required to trigger the “max” effect has been reduced by 20%

Ball regeneration time reduced to 10 seconds (from 15)

Bonk! Atomic Punch

This weapon was designed to allow Scouts to pierce hotly-contested areas. While it does this quite well, it doesn’t require enough skill, or carry much of a down-side.

Changes

Apply a slow effect to the player after phasing wears off, based on the amount of damage they absorbed

From -25% at low damage, to -50% at 200+ damage

Lasts 5 seconds

Pretty Boy’s Pocket Pistol

This weapon is one of the lower owned-equipped items in the game. Looking at the current design, it seems that not taking falling damage ranks pretty low on the value scale for a Scout, and a flat +20% damage taken penalty is basically the kiss-of-death for a low-health class.

Goal: Make the weapon less of a liability and focus it as a “get health quick” tool with decent burst, at the expense of total damage

New design:

+15% firing speed

Up to +7 HP per hit (from +5)

-25% clip size (9 shots)

Crit-a-Cola

The last change to this item added Marked-For-Death when the effect ended. This was okay because it forced Scouts to get out after a little while, but it didn’t add any risk in-the moment.

Goal: Add more decision/thought on when/where to activate and how to manage the risk/reward of the effect

Changes:

Added: Each attack while active adds Marked-For-Death debuff for 5 seconds (does not stack)

Removed: Marked-For-Death when effect expires

Removed: +25% move speed bonus

Removed: +10% damage taken penalty

The Atomizer

Triple-jump as a passive effect is just too strong. It makes combat against the Scout unpredictable because opponents don’t see the bat, and therefore have a hard time anticipating the Scout’s capabilities until late in an encounter. It also makes the Scout very strong against explosive classes – due to a combination of extreme mobility and high close-range damage.

Goal: Require the Scout to deploy the bat to take advantage of the extra jump – which is also a signal to other players that they can perform an extra jump – and reduce the bat’s negatives to compensate

Changes:

Triple-jump is now only possible while the bat is deployed

Removed: Self-inflicted damage when triple-jumping

Removed: Attack speed penalty

Added: Melee attack done while airborne mini-crit

Added: 50% deploy time penalty (to prevent quick-switch bypass)

Reduced damage penalty vs. players to -15% (from -20%)

Flying Guillotine

This weapon is capable of high burst-damage under what sometimes seems like random conditions – such as mini-crits at long-range, and full-crits when the target is slowed or stunned by anything (e.g. Ghost “Boo!” effect, Natasha, etc.

Goal: Remove the feeling of randomness, and reward accuracy

Changes:

Removed: Crit vs. stunned players

Removed: Mini-crit at long range

Added: Long range hits reduce recharge (by 1.5 seconds)

Distance considered “long range” reduced by half of the previous value when determining mini-crits

Soldier

B.A.S.E. Jumper

Players often complain that the B.A.S.E. Jumper is frustrating to fight against because the target is simply too hard to hit. This is mostly due to the combination of being able to deploy/retract at will, and the amount of steering control they have – which makes them too unpredictable.

Changes:

Reduced amount of air control while deployed by 50%

Removed the ability to re-deploy the parachute once retracted (until the player lands on the ground again)

Mantreads

The second least-used item in the game. The aerial stomp mini-game is difficult, and the Gunboats are superior in most scenarios.

Changes:

+75% push-force reduction now includes airblast

Added: +200% air control when blast jumping

Cow Mangler 5000

Removed: Cannot be Crit boosted

Granted/earned Crits (e.g. Kritzkrieg) will be converted to Mini-Crits instead

Righteous Bison

Note: This weapon has been reverted to its previous design

Deals 20 damage per tick (down from 45)

Note: This is necessary because the projectile is no longer limited on the number of times it can hit targets

Projectiles are no longer limited on the number of times they can hit the same target(s)

Projectile velocity increased to 1200 (from 840)

Sniper

Darwin’s Danger Shield

Sniping using this item had an advantage against Snipers who weren’t. As a result, players felt like they were required to equip this item in order to be competitive.

Goal: Remove the increased survivability against enemy Snipers (which invalidates the existing design)

New Design:

Counter ranged burn attacks (e.g. flares), and strengthen melee fights vs. Pyros

Afterburn immunity

+50% fire resist

Razorback

Goal: Reduce the effectiveness of “pocketed” Snipers in stalemates/standoffs (this primarily happens in organized/competitive play)

Changes:

Added: -100% overheal penalty

Added: Shield regenerates after 30 seconds

Medic

Vita-Saw

Ubercharge on death is too valuable of an effect to be passive

Goal: Change the weapon in a way that requires skill and risk in order to gain this effect

Changes:

Added “Organs” collecting concept (…you know, hit someone with a saw, and out pops a vital organ which you then take, and hold). Each hit with the Vita-Saw harvests the victim’s organs (shown on the HUD).

Added: On-death, preserve 15% Ubercharge per Organ harvested. This effect caps at 60%

Crusader’s Crossbow

Bolt healing is very high and significantly out-heals the Medigun when the target is in combat. This might be okay given the trade-offs (risk-vs-reward of ranged shots hitting and the opportunity cost, no overheal). However, it’s also the fastest way to build Ubercharge – under the right conditions (e.g. corner damage farming with the Medic behind cover)

Changes:

Ubercharge gain rate reduced in the same way that the Medigun’s healing (and therefore, Ubercharge build rate) is - based on the last time the target was in combat.

Reduced by a third when 1-10 seconds outside of combat, and scales up to normal over 10-15 seconds

Heavy

All Miniguns

Changes:

The 1-second damage and accuracy penalty now applies to the first second of spun-up time, whether or not the Heavy is firing. Previously, the 1-second damage penalty would only be removed after 1 second of firing

Accuracy and damage penalties now reset when the Heavy spins down, rather than when they Heavy stops firing. This means if you stay spun-up beyond the one second, and fire in bursts, damage and accuracy will remain at 100%.

Gloves of Running Urgently

Speed (lack-of) is used to balance the Heavy’s high health, over-heal and damage output. While we still believe it’s OK to have a class of items that increases Heavy’s movement speed, players have been able to easily bypass the existing negatives.

Changes:

Added: Max-health is drained while item is active (-10/sec), and regenerates while holstered

Health will regenerate only the amount drained while active – minus any damage take during that time

Removed: Marked-For-Death effect while active

Removed: 25% damage penalty

Eviction Notice

Changes:

Added: Max-health is drained while item is active (-5/sec) and regenerated while holstered. Health will regenerate only the amount drained while active – minus any damage taken during that time.

Removed: 20% damage vulnerability

Fist of Steel

The downside of “increased melee damage” doesn’t ever really come into play when it counts (e.g. holding a choke point or objective), and when a Medic is attached, the resulting pool of effective-health is unreasonably large

Changes:

Added: 40% overheal reduction while active

Added: 40% health rate penalty while active

Added the Second Banana

Secondary slot item

When consumed by the Heavy, restores 200 health

Acts like a small health kit when dropped by the Heavy and picked up by another player

Item regenerates after 10 seconds

Engineer

Rescue Ranger

The ability to repair building safely from range without using metal is powerful. Combine this with the ability to instantly teleport buildings from far away – which by itself is interesting and useful enough in many circumstances – and you end up with a package that is very strong

Changes:

Ranged repairs now consume metal (at a 4-to-1 health-to-metal ratio, e.g. repairing 60 damage costs 15 metal)

Doubled the amount of metal applied (per wrench hit) when upgrading buildings during the “Setup” period.

Demoman

Claidheamh Mor

Note: This weapon has been reverted to its previous design.

Removed: +25 health on kill

Added: 0.5 second increase in charge duration

Pyro

Added The Dragon’s Fury

Primary slot item

Uses a shared pressure tank for Primary Fire and Alt-Fire

Primary Fire: Launching a fast moving, limited-range projectile that deals 25 damage and briefly ignites enemies

Deals +300% damage to burning players

+50% repressurization rate on hit

Alt-Fire: Airblast

-50% repressurization rate on Alt-Fire

Added the Thermal Thruster

Secondary slot item

Fires a short-duration blast that launches the Pyro in the direction they are aiming

Deals 3x falling damage to anyone you land on

Has a 1.1 second holster duration

Mann vs. Machine upgrades:

Able to re-launch while airborne

Stun enemies when you land (duration based on impact velocity)

Note: Landing directly on an enemy grants a bonus to stun duration

Faster recharge rate

Added the Gas Passer

Secondary slot item

Creates a horrific visible gas cloud that coats enemies

Flammable material then ignites into 10 seconds of Afterburn if enemies take damage (even Pyros!)

Mann vs. Machine upgrades:

Enemies explode when ignited by attacks

Faster recharge rate

Added the Slap Attack

Gain a speed-boost when you hit an enemy player

-20% damage penalty

Every successful slap is announced in the kill-feed

Flamethrowers

Better visual sync, more consistent (no visuals/damage mismatch)

New particle effects

Applies to all flamethrower variants

Airblast

Hit detection for both players and projectiles is now a consistent cone

Aiming at a player’s feet no longer misses!

Airblasting players now factors in the momentum of the Pyro and target, giving both more control over the interaction

The target’s existing velocity is no longer cancelled

Players moving at the Pyro at great speed will be reflected away at great speed

Players moving towards/away from the Pyro will experience less/more push force

Airblast now causes target players to have reduced footing and air control for a short period

No longer a flat stun

Now factors in the upward angle of the airblast, rather than having a fixed upward force

Total push force slightly increased

Afterburn

Flamethrowers no longer apply maximum-duration afterburn on contact. Afterburn duration is now based on how long the target is in contact with direct flames – starting at a minimum of 3 seconds, and stacking to a maximum of 10 seconds.

Per tick afterburn damage increased to 4 (from 3), for a total of 8 damage per-second (up from 6 per-second)

Flareguns now apply 7.5 seconds of afterburn (down from 10 seconds), resulting in the same total damage as before

Afterburn now reduces all direct Medic healing and resist shields by 20%

Note: This effect was previously applied by direct flames from all flamethrowers (at 25%), but was moved to afterburn, and lightly lowered.

BLOG DISCLAIMER: Jill from Valve has been quoted on reworking the matchmaking system implemented since Meet Your Match: “We didn’t feel what was ready was enough to be a worthy refresh of the mode yet”. Thus, significant matchmaking system reworks will not be in the Jungle Inferno update, but will be in a future update.

[confessiontf2]

Not a confession: I think the reason why they don't have a tenth class is bc they'll break the game, so what I'm hoping for in female playable characters would be cosmetics (or a mod, there are mods) or if they make a merc a trans woman, or if they announce Pyro's official gender... And of all these, I think cosmetics and mods are most likely bc a tenth class would break the game and Pyro's gender is meant to be unknown

Yeah the main reason there’s not a 10th class is because it would break the game. So far the only successful decent attempt seems to be the Deathmatch Merc from the fanwork Team Fortress 2 Classic (something ive been meaning to get around to playing) Even then he’s only limited to TF2C’s deathmatch mode, or so I’ve read because I think he does in fact break the dynamic of the other classes.

There would probably only be 8 classes except for the fact Spy was spawned as a glitch from the original and was worked into the game.

As for the female playable characters I agree. There’s already mods that lets you change the models into girl versions. (some even come with voice lines). In terms of official playable girls is probably never going to happen unless they do confirm Pyro’s gender, which is a very unlikely thing to happen cause it’s a running joke. (Then again they finally confirmed daddy Spy so who knows?)

If they were to consider a cosmetic to do it I’ve had this idea kicking around for awhile. Why not work with the community and implement those models I mentioned? It could be like a make up compact or something and when you equip it it’s a full body change like the zombie skins that change the model into the girl version. That way valve can sell it and make money off of it. They can make it an all class or have individual ones for each class. There’s no real reason why they can’t implement something like this other than the fact we don’t really need this in the game and it’s just something we wouldn’t mind having.

It is a lot of work to add that into the game though, cause they would also have to remodel all cosmetics to fit on the girls because they do have different body shapes than the male counterparts. (Women are naturally smaller)

Also on the idea of one of the mercs being trans I... I think Soldier is?

Like I think if I’m not recalling correctly, in the comics he’s addressed as John Doe, which yes I know is a placeholder name for characters who do not have an official name but knowing TF2′s humor would any of us actually be surprised to find out John Doe is his literal name?

Anyway, this is why I’m thinking he’s trans but I think I recall reading a comic where someone gives him a message or a parcel or something and addresses him as John Doe, and, while I haven’t read the comics in a long time now (only read the naked and the dead when it came out), I swear I read Soldier correcting the man saying his name was Jane Doe. He did it not once but twice.

Now while a man can be named Jane, it’s more commonly used as a girls name which leads me to this conclusion. Again I’m not 100% on this and I’ll have to go look over the comics again when I have time but if someone would like to debunk this then go right ahead.

*Magic*

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

TF2 - Demo/Spy

A certain artist loves this pairing, so I threw this together in chat for them.  - - - - - -- 

-Title: Explosive Decompression -

. . . . . 

He hardly dared to breathe, lest it shatter the fragile moment that the universe had spun between them. Demo's expression seemed surprised, stricken, oddly conflicted yet awed, as they stared.

Spy could not seem to wrench his gaze from the man's eye, the shape of his jaw, his ever-smiling mouth and those lips... They were slightly ajar now, as the Scotsman tried to process whatever this was, happening right now between the two mercenaries. So stock-still that Spy immediately felt his heart, previously beating so hard he could have sworn Demo would hear it pounding away in fear; now sink to the pit of his stomach.

They should not have done this. It was unprofessional, to allow someone like himself to imbibe enough to become rather tipsy; not drunk, just... relaxed enough that he might answer a question directly, rather than with his usual level of mystique and subterfuge.

Spies must take in many secrets, and keep them caged between their teeth; for letting them out could prove disastrous. Their job was to ruin people, topple governments, blackmail, coerce, change the world for good or ill depending on who paid your wages... and to let out any of that information could be a crippling blow to your professional occupation.

But to let slip something personal, that was to sign your death warrant. It gave others power that they could, and would use against you.

Many spies from before, men and women with impeccable abilities that dared to dream of a normal life and settling down, who had confided in others about their pasts... who watched former adversaries hold weapons to their loved ones, or heard the people they trusted sell them out for money, for favours, for praise and promotion.

He would never have thought to allow such a thing to happen. He was above such things, and although he loved a woman once, just enough to foster silent fantasies of raising their son safe from the world and its perils... he had always known they were just that. Dreams. Fantasies. Comforting lies that helped you sleep at night.

Divorce yourself from attachments and emotions, remove all ties to living beings, let yourself feel nothing but satisfaction in your work. Each kill a thrill, every blackmail or topple bureaucracy a sadistic delight... let that fuel your desire to survive. For nothing else was allowed...

He had loved her, once. In a time far removed from the now; and even so, pangs of what once was, could have been in a different world, radiated through his chest. Especially on difficult nights of loss or hollow victory... in this endless game of war, where life and death held no meaning.

And he should have let that be it, be content with a hollow want for something long since out of his reach... and yet, even though he remained detached, curt, calculatingly cold and indifferent to the other mercenaries of RED...

In an effort of preservation; for himself, for their sakes too, one would surmise.

Even though he tried to be aloof and alone, as suited a Spy... the team wormed their way in. Conflicts were rife in the beginning, and sometimes there were feuds and spats that lasted months between various classes... but for every fight, so too was there interaction, learning, an odd familiarity that settled into the bones.

As one would expect when you lived and died alongside one another every single day for years without end. Only the scenery changed more frequently than the mercenaries' attitudes towards one another.

He could tolerate the stinking bushman's presence now, a man of few words but deeper insights was intriguing if you ignored the whole... 'jarate' utilisation nonsense. No sane person would collect their urine in jars and throw it on people, as far as Spy was concerned.

Medic was eccentric, but wrapped up in Heavy and his birds; always covered in blood and ready to tell a story of his wilder days as a mercenary medico. Snatching bodies and organs for the hell of it, the way he flayed flesh for revenge... Spy had learned many things from the man, in retrospect. Useful, should he need to... interrogate someone rather stringently in the future.

Heavy seemed dense, until you spoke to him in another language, and Spy had had the chance to polish several of his language skills with that man. A welcome surprise...

He detested Engineer, however. Too friendly, open, everything Spy was not... and the way the man so swiftly adopted the role of paternal figure to both the Pyro and his so-... the Scout, irked him. How dare he? Ugh, Americans and their apple-pie idealism. Disgusting, to his sensibilities.

Soldier was a unique man, under the brusque outward persona. To have been so resourceful in hunting nazi scum, even though his country denied him the resources to do so... it had intrigued Spy. Surely there was more than yelling and misquoting Sun Tzu? It had been a fun diversion, when they first arrived on base; going through the others' files. Everything about them laid bare in red folders filled to the brim with documentation... excepting the Pyro, of course.

An enigma Spy was loathe to solve, as the mask-wearing pyromaniac set his nerves on edge whenever nearby. The BLU firebug had a fondness for burning  him as often as possible... and Spy did not ever see himself becoming best friends with the RED look-a-like.

Of course, he knew Scout was... Yes. He knew. Telling him, however, was out of the question; their first encounter with one another left Spy feeling that the boy was an abhorrent mistake. A child with a loud mouth, bad attitude and an accent so thick it could choke a man... how could this be his?

He had been far more severe and unforgiving on that boy, compared to any of the others, in all honesty. Until more recently. The brash attitude had mellowed somewhat, now that the brat knew he had a place here and his inferiority complex didn't act up so frequently. Demanding that Scout bignote himself, be reckless, make so much noise and mess that the whole world had to stop and acknowledge his presence before he could calm down... assured that he was seen.

Spy knew that was partially his fault. No father, seven older brothers and a mother who split her time between parenthood and assassinations? Of course he turned out this way... But such knowledge had not shorted out the Frenchman's disdain of the boy on sight.

However now... they seemed to coexist, neither voicing what they both seemed to know. And if Spy ever found out which teammate told the boy of his paternity, then no god will save them from what he will do... Spy had hoped to tell the boy... in a mythical 'one day' that he would never allow to come. Indeed, one such altercation and hollow accusation of, "You're not my dad!" had contributed to this very situation in which he now found himself.

Of all the mercenaries, Spy found himself becoming more and more intrigued by the Demolitions man, or 'Demo'. The man merged the scientific and supernatural almost frequently, and his backstory was always fascinating to pretend you weren't listening to.

And he had a knowing, about him. "I've got a canny sense for some things, lad." he'd once said to Scout, who was asking Demo how in the hell he could guess that the bluer-than-it-had-a-right-to-be sky was going to be covered in dark, brooding clouds within the next hour or so. He had been correct, actually, it had stormed for several days so severely matches were cancelled until it ceased.

You could see in his eyes, in the slight tinge of a smile in his upturned lips, when he had seen something others had not yet. It made Demo the prime suspect in Spy's investigation as to who had told Scout about his father... And yet, this preternatural ability was as fascinating to Spy, as it was a curse for Demo.

As time passed, the Frenchman found he gravitated to the warmth of Demo's tone, his welcoming nature, could stand cloaked and watch the man tinker with his weaponry for hours in an almost trance-like tranquillity... he was peaceful like that, sometimes. Of course, he was also very much a lit powder-keg; not unlike the bombs he unleashed on the BLUs.

His knowing, the strange things that happened in his life before RED and all the things he never spoke about, like his family, the things you could see in the haunted shadows of his eyes... Those things were like a beacon to Spy; he was a curious person, as Spies often tend to be, and he could not help but build rapport in hopes of unlocking this mystery.

Demo drank. It was a huge joke to some, to make out that he did nothing but imbibe 'scrumpy' all the time. Though Spy knew different. He observed, he knew, he saw. There was a difference between celebratory drunk Demo, and social drinker Demo; and they were both far removed from the near-catatonic, slurring drunk Demo became when he thought no one could see, when whatever haunted him became too much.

It was... close to home.

Spy had been there... only he had switched to cigarettes, and wine; over... what he had once chosen to drown the memories in, instead. It didn't work for long, especially not if you had to put up a facade the whole time as well. Eventually you accepted the past as it was, horrors intact; or you broke, became beyond repair, by your own hand.

And... though he dared not voice even the vaguest notion of sentimentality... Spy had felt disinclined to allow Demo to take that ruinous path. Not while it could be prevented.

Spy was a people-person; it was his trade, refined manners and a natural charm allowed for it to be so. Gaining Demo's trust, however, had felt... more challenging than he was used to. The man could sense someone being disingenuous from across the room, so Spy had to step lightly, work carefully.

It began, not with a conversation, but the end of one. Spy happened upon drunken Demo, sorrowful and slouching, one night in the common room; something about the day had triggered a memory for him, and he'd been morose all evening. At least, under the fake smile he'd pasted on for the other mercenaries, who seemed to have only the slightest of inklings that something was amiss.

They had been a team for nearly a year, by now. Such a long time, and as yet many of the classes were all but strangers to one another. Or rather, like roommates that went to all the same classes, but somehow managed to miss each other in leisure time; except on rare occurrences.

Each class had interacted, and some had stronger bonds than others, but cohesion was a distant dream as of yet. It would take several more months, at the very least, despite the best efforts of the ever-hospitable Engineer and his perpetual barbecue get-togethers.

However, time would tell.

Spy saw Demo properly in that moment, surmised the situation, and told the man straight up, that Spy was going to put him to bed. He was a stinking mess, but that would be the problem of whichever hapless Mann Co. laundry service dealt with their blood-stained clothing and used bedding. Spy didn't care for the details...

In truth, he did. And knew them well. A subsidiary company, part of a chain of cleaning services, called 'Cooee Cleaners' took their laundry four times a fortnight and returned it within six hours. Spy knew when, where and how they did so; and what contracts each of the delivery persons had signed in order to be paid, and not... disposed of via a pink slip and Miss Pauling's pistol.

He rather liked the details, actually.It was his nature.

However, the situation had resolved with the Demolitions expert tucked in bed sans his boots; and Spy aware that he now had an inroads with the man. Whether the Scot recalled the exact events of the night before, or not.

Indeed he did, given the anxiety-tinged glances Demo probably assumed he was covertly throwing at Spy, all throughout breakfast. Trying to gauge whether the night before was real, or if Spy had a good, helpful twin who altruistically tried to ruin the Frenchman's sinister mystique.

He found himself cornered, after battle that day, but the concerned man. Demo was of his game, somewhat; having been blown through respawn a few dozen times in the first five minutes of battle, and things not improving from there on in.

"Look, whatever I said tae ye, could ye forget it?" he'd asked, tone laden with anxiety. It was so out of character, Spy nearly forgot to paste a smug look on his face.

"Oh?" he'd replied, "But I do so love getting new information on my teammates..."

But the normal deflection seemed not to have worked, as usual. Demo had gained that look, the one he associated with his 'canny feeling', and the expression went from concerned to pensive in a heartbeat.

"Aye..." he finally responds, "That ye do, Laddie. Well, ye'd best come along with me then, so we can talk about it... I dinnae want ye dogging my every step to find out why I drink. And I think we both know ye will..."

Spy had nodded. He was discrete, but when something interesting strayed across his path, Spy would chase it to the end of the line...

And so, Demo had taken them to his lab. Fidgeting, tinkering, moving pieces about as if the tactile task somehow helped. Perhaps it did. Spy would often play with his balisong, flicking it open and shut when he was deep in thought. And he had noticed... Scout tended to always do something with his hands when talking, or thinking; it was an invisible thread between them that he found highly amusing and yet, oddly endearing.

Finally... Demo had sighed, sagging in his chair, and gestured for the Frenchman to sit on the chair adjacent the explosive expert. He fumbled for the right starting point for a moment, but finally began... at the beginning, and did not stop until long into the early hours of the night.

Spy was astounded, surprised, sceptical, and slightly off-kilter by this sudden torrent of volunteered information. Certainly, there was the human desire to reciprocate, a story for  a story, that he tamped down. A question, as to when he'd earned enough trust from the man to warrant such a telling; Demo was as stubborn as Scout in many ways, and could have easily fobbed of Spy's persistent inquiries if he wanted.

And there was, too, an unease roiling in the pit of his stomach at the conclusion of their one-sided conversation.  Spy would never have revealed so much, such personal information; and now he knew everything in intricate detail, about Demo... no, Tavish, before him.

Knowing things made you dangerous. Knowing about governments, about the secrets of high ranking officials... made you dangerous. But knowing details about the people around you, personal information, made you a threat to them. What if it was tortured out of you?

Of course, Spy had doubted foreign agencies would be interested in the time eight-year-old Tavish got detention for blowing up the science lab at school, but you never knew these days. Torture had evolved, and Spy had played no small hand in its evolution.

Still, it had changed the dynamics.

He knew so much of Demo, of Tavish DeGroot, and the mystical, mathematical world he came from... and the man knew practically nothing of him. Certainly, Spy had weasled such information out of wooed socialites, high ranking officials and whomsoever else he had to seduce or coerce in order to complete his mission... but that was different.

Demo had laughed, when he'd stopped talking. "Ye don't need to tell me anything ye're not ready to, Spook... ain't the way you lot do things, is it? Spies?"

He'd felt his lip curl up in amusement as he'd deadpanned, "Non, monsieur DeGroot." before bidding the man goodnight, and cloaking. Stealing away to his own bed, to compartmentalise.

And it had been the knowing that drew him back again and again. Demo had lived a life so different, yet so full of the strange and indescribable, that it was like an odd reflection of Spy's own.

He'd even questioned if the interest was a sign of inherent narcissism, at one point. However, Spy eventually dismissed the theory, the more he started to notice things about the other man... dangerous things.

The light in his eye when a new idea struck, the pride in his tone when congratulating a teammate on a kill or capture, the vengeful angel he became when the same were being mercilessly dominated in battle...

The grace of those rough, scarred hands. How they gently coaxed colatile materials into harmonic alignment, ready to be employed in battle; yet those same hands could knock a man's head clean off his shoulders when necessary. The duality was...  

Well, Spy never let himself linger on the nature of those hands for long enough to choose a word for the feeling it gave.   Emotions were problematic, at best, and it did no one any good to dwell on phantom feelings.

Still, he noticed. Little things, words, cadence, interactions, moods. Spy could tell by the tightness around Demo's eyes if  he was caught in dark thoughts; in the same way he knew that, if Medic was smiling brightly, someone was about to play operation with him.

Things built.

From Spy watching the man work uncloaked, in silence... to simply visiting, and listening to anecdotes, stories, odd ideas and some accusations, it must be said.

"You ever going to tell him?" Demo had startled Spy with, not so many days ago. "The lad?"

"He knows." Spy monotones, recovering swiftly.

"Big difference between knowing something, and having it said aloud, having it confirmed. Not to push ye, but it... might make a difference to both of ye." Demo pressed, and then let it be, when Spy went silent. Eventually switching to a different topic altogether, as if the conversation before had never been.

However, it left Spy wondering what else the man could be picking up on. Of course Demo would have noticed the similarities, the inherent characteristics they both denied were even vaguely similar to one another's. Tavish just tended to know these things... not to say he was not a highly intelligent man who could work it out if he wanted to, but his intuition could trump thinktanks the world over.

And if the man had noticed, in what was not spoken, that Scout was his son... what else had he gleaned from Demo?

Then, like an arrow to the heart he suddenly wondered if it really was that terrible to have someone know certain personal information about him. If it was truly so horrifying a concept, when he thought about it...

And that was more startling than anything else that had occurred. The last time Spy had even considered such a thing was-... well... Her. But that was because he lo-... oh, oh no.

It was four am on a rainy Thursday night, and he had made a realisation that could shatter his nonchalant facade if it should get out or be acted upon openly. No, Spy could allow nothing of the sort... he would simply, ignore it.

Like always, such was was the life of an espionage agent. And so, resolved, the man had resolutely fallen asleep thinking of nothing, save how he would backstab the BLU Sniper the following day... in retribution for all the many, many impeccable suits lost to jarate attacks.

Of course, the complication came in the form of Demo's friendly offer to 'have a drink'. Usually, such invitations were a formality, underhandedly meaning that Spy was free to drop by the workshop later on, or even Demo's room, and talk. As he had a habit of doing after battle, these days...

Outwardly, he had raised an eyebrow, as if questioning. Scout had loudly laughed and made a rather crude joke about Spy being uptight, and how Demo would need far more alcohol than was available on the base to get the guy to 'hang out', much less 'relax'.

Both the older men suppressed their amusement at that statement. But when the siren went off to leave spawn, and Scout had disappeared into the wind as he often did, Spy met Demo's eyes... and nodded, before cloaking.

He would be there.

And so he was. Triumphant, the team had crowed and delighted in their victory through dinner and into the night. Spy had personally killed his rival four out of five times prior to being taken down by the BLU Soldier, so he was in high spirits and open to merriment.

"There you are, thought ye'd bloody forgot!" Demo greets, swinging open the door of the workshop and gesturing to the armchair Spy had mysteriously gotten hold of and had placed in the room for his visitations. He had contacts all over the world, he'd assured, and a comfortable seat was nothing compared to what he could get with a single phonecall to the right people.

Perhaps it was the merriment, a break in the week's losing streak, or it could be simply that he had started to trust in the Demolitions expert... but, Spy felt quite relaxed tonight. Did not even think to guard his thoughts, filter his words, or wonder where the first two glasses of wine had gone...

Sipping champagne or a good vintage wine during an evening by the fire, or whilst seducing a target was one thing... a moderated act, false sips, all compliments and distractions as the other starts to let slip the secrets you seek. This... this was another.

Spy could feel the edges of the world become a little softer, somewhat fuzzier and kinder than they'd been in years. It flagged a warning with his survival instincts, but whatever alarm it caused was muted at best, and tamped down upon at the persistent thought that Demo was not a threat.

Indeed, the man was the opposite, especially on the field. How many times had a stickybomb trap saved the Spy, recently? BLU were getting uncannily good at spotting disguised spies, and it meant he tended to die a lot more frequently...

Wait...

He reeled a little, mentally repeating his slightly convoluted chain of thought. Demo was not a threat?

Demo was not a threat.

Alright, that was easily settled.

Actually, Demo was looking at him in concern. He cocked slightly to the side, and brow furrowed; looking at Spy, like he was a bomb with a misaligned screw somewhere in the design.

"Uh, when was the last time ye got more than a wee bit buzzed from your fancy grape juice, Spook?" Tavish asks, somewhat bluntly.

Spy opens his mouth to reply, but an ugly snort of laughter escapes instead. "Fancy grape juice, mon cheri, I will 'ave you know that some of my wine collection are older than everyone on this team combined!"

"...not a point in their favour, to be honest, lad. Old stuff tends to go off, if ye havenae noticed..." Demo teases, plain on his smirking face.

"Wine ages gracefully, Demo... the older it gets, the more potent and delectable. Very few humans can say the same of themselves..." Spy retorts, laying it on thick at the end to sound mysterious and wise, even though some part of his mind was still stuck on how funny 'fancy grape juice' was as a wine descriptor.

"If ye say so..." Demo rolls his eye, reaching for his bottle instead. His hand pauses on the cusp of grasping it as a thought strikes, eye narrowing to a considering squint. "Oi, ye weren't taking a dig at me spare tire with the aging gracefully comment, were ye? Cause I'll have ye know... I've still got enough muscle to toss ye like a javelin across  the battlefield if ye're feeling cheeky..."

Spy nearly spat his mouthful of red wine across the room. "Non. My intention was complimentary, I assure you... I 'ave only known few humans to grow steadily more attractive as the yeas past. We are supposed to decay, and yet, beauty persists in the most unlikely of places..."

There was a pause as he thought about it. "You should 'ave seen Scout's mother when we met, nearly twenty-seven years ago now, I did not even know a word to describe her beauty... and it infuriates me more with every growing year."

"Och, don't sell yeself short, laddie, I bet you're not that bad off under that mask of yours..." Demo responds, skipping casually over the fact Spy just revealed something incredibly personal  about himself for no real reason.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Spy teases, automatically, before covering his own mouth in horror. "I think I 'ave had more to thought than I drink..."

It was too late, Demo was already in hysterics, and the mis-worded sentence only added to his amusement at the situation.

"I think ye have, Spook, can't even get your sentences the right way 'round, can ye?" the Scotsman beams.

"Perhaps..." Spy relents, "Or maybe I just 'ave not thought to let someone else in for a long time... and the wine 'elps somewhat."

Which immediately stifles Demo's laughter. An unintended side-effect of the gravity of Spy's statement.

Tactfully, he says, "Aye, drink'll do that to ye... loosen tongues and let secrets slide on out. I'd warrant ye have quite a few of those rattling around in your head, eh?"

Spy's lip curls up in amusement. "Oh, oui, mon ch-... amie. But if I told you... I would 'ave to kill you and all that dreary nonsense. I'd much prefer your company..."

Demo pounces on the statement like a cat on string. "Oh, would ye now, Spook? Thought ye couldn't stand me to start with... now I get front-row seats to your little secret-spilling show, and I wouldnae miss it for the world."

"It is, unfortunate that my occupation requires such secrecy, Tavish, but... it is as it is." Spy returns, sombrely. Like the words were bitter in his mouth, and he wanted rid of them. "There is much I can never say... even to those I care for deeply, for their safety I must not exist to them. Silence is a far sharper knife than any argument can ever be... even if both parties understand the logic of why."

Demo swirled the bottle, watching the liquid slosh about; a tiny alcoholic ocean thrown mercilessly against the green glass sides, as he mulled over the statement. It wasn't unexpected, but Spy was not one to make such statements lightly; sober or blackout drunk.

"And that is why Scout did not 'ave a father in his life, Demo. Why I had to let his darling mother, mon cheri, go before we got too tangled in emotions to do so. Before they became targets for the things I know, have done, will do... espionage is not at all as exciting as those silly Spy films make it seem. The pretty girls and boys you seduce will be followed by the old, the ugly and the cruel; some you kill, others you must keep alive. It all depends on the mission, and you feel nothing for any of them... you cannot, or it will ruin what you are. Your edge."

Demo does not interject as Spy pauses for breath, for reflection. Just nods along, having seen this storm cloud building from the moment the other man picked up the second glass of wine.

"If you are detached, tell noone anything... learn no secrets but those you are sent to find, then you will hurt no one when retribution finds you." Spy explains, as best he can. "There are few I can tell about anything, about my life and what I have seen, done, learned, lost... it puts them in danger. Mon cheri understood, she has been there herself but found a way to change her fate... a way I cannot follow. So we parted, amicably, if regretfully. And even here, to protect even that happy-go-lucky fool the Engineer, I cannot speak to anyone. But you," he jabs a finger at Demo, "you 'ave a way of making people want to tell you things."

For a split-second, Demo wrinkles his nose in offence, but seemingly decides to let it go. Spy is venting, and to be fair he does have that effect on people. That sense of his saw people confess odd things to him all the time... he couldn't turn it off, though.

"You just... told me all about yourself, everything! And I couldn't stop myself from listening... I should 'ave, to keep you safe, but your voice was-..." Spy coughs, "I mean to say, the tale was fascinating in no uncertain terms."

"Oh sure, just the tale and not the handsome devil telling it to ye, gotcha." Demo beams, giving an exaggerated wink in the drunken Spy's direction.

It earned him a frustrated scowl. "Exactly!" shouts Spy, tossing his hands up haphazardly and nearly slopping wine all over the place.

That pulls the Scot up short. "Ye what now?" he probes, trying to clarify if he's drunk too much or Spy has.

"You... are a very aesthetic-... aestheti-.... beautiful man, Tavish. We both know this, do not deny it; I have seen many people, conventionally attractive and decidedly not, in my life... and you are one of those awful humans that ages gracefully like wine. And you can captivate with your personality, your stories are exciting and informative, your hands are-... I mean, your expressions are always fluid and you are a fascinating creature to behold."

Spy pauses, staring at his almost-empty wine glass in accusation.

"You have no idea how much I want to tell people things, but most of all you, you attractive idiot of a man... with your friendship, and your physique and your-... your-..." he stammers off, looking for a word, only to suddenly freeze.

The gravity of his words seemed to sink in, for the first time that night, and Spy's heart begins to race. Fight or flight is taking over; restless energy floods his body, demanding the espionage agent cloak and retreat. But he cannot.

Everything in the room is trapped in this odd, ethereal moment where not even air seems to exist. He loathes how saccharine it feels, how cliche... and yet, what other descriptors are there?

It was like being paralysed in amber, as his eyes latched onto Demo's face; saw the shock there, and ascribed it to be negative of meaning, in his mind. Demo was staring back, a feature-length film of emotions whirring across his features too fast for Spy's less-than-sober mind to keep up with.

Spy couldn't think of anything to say to defuse the situation, every elongated moment of silence making his heart sink further into his stomach. He couldn't quite find the energy to make his hand stop reaching for the cloaking watch, though... Rigorously ignoring the thought that, even if he got away now, there was always tomorrow, or the next... when they would be face to face.

Of course he had had people rebuke his attempts at seduction, and even a few his active affections... but this was inherently different. Demo wasn't saying anything, doing anything... he was just still. It was eerie.

"Don't."

The words snaps him out of the elongated scene, as does the warm hand caught fast around his wrist, effectively blocking out the watch. Demo's grip could easily release, if Spy gave even the slightest indication he was going to cloak and leave anyway.

Spy stays his hand, feeling very much the foolish deer in headlights; something he hasn't felt in... so long, he almost forgot what it was like to be vulnerable. To be like this, open to rejection, without his usual wall of cynicism and apathy blocking it out.

He must have had too much to drink. It happened, sometimes things just come out when inhibitions are lowered...

"It's... uh, well..." Demo stammers, clearly attempting to be the diplomatic one here since Spy's normal suave tact is utterly failing him.

"You do not 'ave to respond," Spy manages. "And you need not give sympathy or express sentiment... I made a mistake, in admitting something personal, and we can both forget it."

"Oh, can we now?" Demo queries, raising an eyebrow with a strange quality to his tone. "Just go back to the way things are, even though I know?"

Spy nods, looking slightly over the other's left shoulder, expression tight and guarded once more. "If that is what you wish."

"Well," says Demo, dropping Spy's wrist and crossing his arms. "And what if I don't bloody want to, eh?"

"That is... also your choice." Spy interjects, voice monotonous and yet somehow defensive.

Demo wags a finger at him, "I wasnae finished talking laddie. Perhaps, I dinnae want to forget about the fact the bloke I've been trying to woo for the last six bloody months has finally worked out he likes me back under all that emotional repression. What if I want to act on that, instead, hey?"

Spy nearly falls over, but recovers as swiftly as he can. "Would you... care to repeat that, mon amie?"

Demo glares at him. "You're bloody right I do care to, and what's this 'my friend' business about, Spook?  You've been accidentally calling me 'mon cheri' for months, had to ask Heavy what it meant and he nearly choked on his sandvich telling me..."

That vivid mental image alone shatters the tension in the room as both occupants laugh aloud.

"Ah, but seriously boyo... you're not all that subtle after a wee bit of time living with the same people. Get to know your eccentricities... and you're as messed up as Scoot is, with your emotions. But if I'd known all it'd take was some fancy wine juice to get you to admit you were hankering for all this..."

He gestures to all of him in a sweeping motion that nearly sends the emotionally-exhausted Frenchman into hysterics again.

"I would have bloody bought you a tank full ages ago... save all this pining and self-realisation nonsense. Ye looked like I was gonnae kill ye just before, when you blurted it out..." Demo adds, thoughtfully.

Trying to piece everything back together mentally, Spy clears his throat. "You never know how people will react, these days, and you are good with explosives..."

"Good? I'm brilliant, Spook! And if ye want, I can show you I'm pretty good at another type of banging..." He accompanies the statement with a lewd grin that lightens the mood and finally dissipates the last shred of tension from the room.

Spy groans and drops his face into his hands. "Why am I attracted to you again?"

"Uh, dunno, ye didn't finish your long litany of the bits of me you like best... got to the hands and ye stopped, didn't even get to my perky ar-..."

This time Spy covers Demo's mouth. "Finish that sentence and I will leave you here alone..." he sighs dramatically, "How will I ever take you in public like this?"

Demo grins and mumbles something. Spy moves his hand to hear him better.

"I said, I can behave if I want to... in public, that is. Probably at one of those upper-class, posh restaurants you like too... the ones with fourteen spoons and expensive old fancy grape juice..."

Some part of Spy despaired at that phrase, but it was subsumed by the odd surge of amusement he felt at the casual way the conversation was flowing positively between them. Gently eroding the spiky emotional chaos of a few moments earlier.

"Please... do not ever use that phrase again, especially in public." he asks, tone slightly strained.

And Demo laughs back. "Anything for you, Spook... uh... actually..."

There it is, Spy had been waiting for the question.

"...if we adopt Scout, do you want to be Dad, or Daddy?" Demo asks, tone entirely innocent, and shiteating grin clearly stating he was enjoying the way Spy suddenly lost the last shreds of composure.

Alright that was decidedly NOT the question he had been anticipating. Spy let out his horrifying laugh, which he personally detested; sometimes he snorted or giggled oddly, and he hated it.

Demo pokes him in the cheek. "Cute laugh you got there Spook..."

"Oh shut up, Demo..." Spy finally calms down enough to say, waving off the other. "That was not what I thought you were going to ask, mon cheri..."

"No, but your face was bloody funny when I did. Or I think it is... hard to tell with-... nevermind." Demo smiles, suddenly realising that the base is very quiet and they're quite close together.

"No, do ask your question, if you have an actual one that is..." Spy invites, hands busily sliding under the mask hem. Meticulous in their removal.

"Well, and ye dinnae have to give me an answer now if ye wanna keep the whole secret identity thing going for a wee bit longer but... you know my name..." Demo leads.

"Indeed, Tavish, mon cheri." Spy smirks back, sans mask.

Demo nearly chokes at the sudden revelation, at how closely he had imagined it, based on mental mapping of the features beneath the identity-concealing mask. He clears his throat when Spy raises an eyebrow in query as to why he'd paused.

"Well, ye know my name... and I was kind of wondering if it'd be okay to know yours?" Demo asks, expression hopeful but trying not to be.

There it was.

Spy had been waiting.

He leans in quite close. "Of course, mon cheri... my name is," he leaned in to whisper hotly into the Scotsman's ear, before pulling back with a killer grin. "And I would adivse you not forget it... you will be screaming it later tonight..."

Then, in the space of a heartbeat... there's a kiss on his lips, something in his hand, and Spy has disappeared.

Demo clutches tightly at the mask, holding onto the physical reminder that everything that just happened was not just an elaborate fantasy... and beams through tingling lips.

This was going to be an adventure.

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

The End

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I hope this makes sense bc it is 5am and I wrote this trash in a blur Need to edit it