Finished the third part of this today. I hope someone enjoys this. From a request off of the /y/ board on 4chan. Can only hope that I get the formatting right.
Discovery (aka Going to Hell with Pyro)
Their shift from hell had ended a few hours ago. Every day, from eight in the morning to five o’clock, they fought. Death was nothing in this fantastic, god-forsaken place. A head shot? You would black out from the pain and wake up in a back room of the med bay. They called the technology “respawn”.
Pyro called it a load of bullshit, but no one understood him anyway, so it didn’t matter. Just another day, just like the ones before it. He snuck around corners and waited, patiently, for unsuspecting enemies. Singles or small groups were what he was best at. He’d flame the holy hell out of them and flee. If there was a Heavy involved, he’d rush them, content to die as long as he took at least one with him.
He’d managed twenty-eight kills today, and seventeen deaths. Not bad at all. He’d done worse, and he’d done better.
Idly checking to make sure his door was locked (it always was, but he had to check), the Pyro removed his gas mask and carefully stripped off his fire-retardant suit. He was soaked in sweat, like usual, but he was used to it now. He was used to the suffocating jumpsuit, used to the claustrophobic synthetic fabric wrapped around him for the majority of every day.
He finished stripping and stepped into his private bathroom. Yes, he had a private bathroom. He was also the only team member to have a room in the basement, near the intelligence room. No one else had wanted it despite its privacy; everyone else wanted at least a bullet-proof glass window. Pyro didn’t care about a window. He had better things to do than look at the exterior of their base.
The cool water sluiced over his filthy shoulders, washing soot and fuel and grease from his body. He leaned against the stainless steel walls, glancing at a blacked out mirror to his left, installed in the shower wall. He had done that, he had painted it over. There was no need to see that every day, he figured.
The noise of the water downplayed the hiss of the Spy de-cloaking, and Pyro had no idea he wasn’t alone. No idea until he stepped out of the shower only to have a knife at his throat.
“So… the rumors, zhey are true…” the Spy smirked wickedly at him and Pyro stared, shocked, not even trying to cover his nakedness. Brown eyes went impossibly wide.
“Leave me alone.” His small voice cracked twice.
“Medic said that you would not consent to your exams… now I zhink we know why, don’t we, mon amie?” The Spy’s eyes raked hungrily over the nude body of his team mate. Over the short, scruffy brown hair, a bald streak on the left side that tapered into a large scar along the Pyro’s face. Scars marred nearly every inch of the broad torso, the toned arms, the rounded belly, the curvy hips.
Spy’s gaze focused between Pyro’s legs. There was a small patch of hair, but no penis, only…
“You are female,” the Frenchman asserted, then laughed. “You really are a woman. Where is your chest?”
“Not a woman…” Pyro replied, and then gasped as a gloved hand slid between his legs. “Just because I was born female…”
“Ah. You are… transsexual, they call it? Hm…” Spy pressed the knife harder to Pyro’s throat and reached into his suit jacket, “I’m sure that our Medic will be quite pleased to examine you at last.” He withdrew his hand quickly, a syringe held delicately between his fingers. In one quick motion, he had jabbed the needle into the naked Pyro’s neck. The sedative was almost instant, and his comrade literally fell into his arms.
Wrapping the Pyro in a sheet taken from the bed, Spy chuckled as he headed for the med bay. Their medic would be quite pleased indeed…
He woke up cold and stiff. Coming to his senses quickly, Pyro opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn’t.
He was in the med bay, tied to a table. Still fucking naked.
“Are you avake, kleine?” came the Medic’s voice.
“Let me go,” Pyro replied with as much bravery as he could muster. The tall German came into his line of sight and tutted lightly.
“Now now, little one. Zat is no vay to speak to your physician,” he accused, and set a gloved hand to cup the androgynous face.
“If she wants to be let go so very badly, doctor…” Spy’s voice, “Why shouldn’t we humor her?”
“I’m not a she! Look, now you know everything, just let me go back to my goddamn room.” Pyro didn’t want to admit how pained his voice sounded, and he knew he was begging. Spy’s intentions had been clear in the shower, and he knew what had been on the Frenchman’s mind.
The Medic appeared to have taken Spy’s words to heart, and began undoing the restraints. Pyro sat up and got off the table, only to be enveloped by the Medic’s strong arms. Lips pressed to his, a tongue invaded his mouth. It happened too quickly for him to fight and he struggled.
Warmth at his back, that fucking spy! A hand worming between his legs, and he felt gloved fingers slide inside of him. Pyro broke the kiss long enough to protest.
“No, stop! Stop!”
“Ve have only just begun, mein Liebchen,” Medic replied huskily. “Spy… I vill go get the others, hmm?”
Pyro fought desperately as he was pushed to his knees, the Spy’s cock pressed to his lips. When had that bastard gotten his pants undone?
“If you fight, mon amie… this will be much worse for you,” the Frenchman advised coolly, “If you let us ‘ave what we want, then we will not ‘urt you. Do not struggle, oui?” He guided his cock into Pyro’s mouth, and then promptly shrieked as he was bitten. “You little brute!” Pyro groaned as a fist connected with his face, and he felt his nose break. He heard the door open.
“Vill ve need to break our patient in?” Medic asked. Coughing up blood, Pyro curled into himself, trying to hide his nudity as he choked. A gloved hand grabbed his face and forced him to look at the Engineer.
“Please,” Pyro begged, “Don’t do this.”
“She is pretty fer bein’ so fucked up, ain’t she,” the Engineer drawled, tracing his fingers over the large facial scar before kissing the female hard.
Hands grabbed him, so many hands, and flipped him onto his stomach. His nose hadn’t stopped bleeding, and he sobbed as a cock was pressed to his mouth. He couldn’t see, eyes bleary with blood, but the large rough hands holding his head still indicated that it was Engineer.
“Suck, girly,” the southern drawl directed. He was out of options. There were three of them now, soon to be more. Maybe Spy was right. Just take it, just accept it. It would certainly hurt less…
He began to suck the head of the hard cock slowly, giving up.
“That’s the way…”
Someone smacked his ass and he grunted in pain around the length in his throat. Then fingers were sliding inside of his pussy, a thumb rubbing his clit insistently. He shuddered, hands clenching into fists.
“’Ey, who said you get her first, spook?” Sniper sounded indignant. When had he arrived? The fingers left quickly and Pyro could feel the heat of another body.
“I was the one to bring ‘er… I get ‘er first,” was the Frenchman’s reply, and Pyro cried out as he was entered roughly. It had been a long time since he had had anything up there, and it felt like losing his virginity all over again. The Spy took his time with slow thrusts, stretching Pyro out gradually. He couldn’t help but be just slightly thankful for the gentleness the Frenchman was giving him.
The cock in his throat started moving faster, the Engineer practically fucking his face, and he choked as the Texan came in thick spurts. Finally able to speak as Engineer pulled away, Pyro spit out the wad of cum and gasped for breath.
“Please stop,” he begged, “Please just leave me alone.”
“Zhat is not going to happen, Liebchen,” the Medic murmured, stroking the flawed face and leaning down to kiss Pyro again, “It haz been so long for all of us… to know zat ve have had a voman here zis entire time…” That warm tongue stroked the insides of Pyro’s mouth and he had to admit it felt kind of good. Maybe… maybe he could enjoy this.
The Medic laughed when the Pyro began kissing back, shy and wary. His large hands rubbed the slim shoulders, relaxing his ‘patient’ further. The kiss broke slowly, leaving Pyro breathless, his lips swollen and red, his face flushed.
“Let me have a turn, Herr Spy…” Pyro gasped as the cock left him. He felt strangely empty, and watched the German unbutton his pants and kneel between his legs. The large, leaking cock was pressed to his pussy.
“Unh… please…” Pyro whispered, cheeks heating with shame. Medic smiled and indulged the quiet request, sliding into the tight heat with a groan. The length inside him felt so goddamn good, Pyro noted, and Medic was as gentle as Spy had been, with languid thrusts that filled him up entirely every time.
Another cock pressed to his lips, this one slender and long.
“Open up, sheila, c’mon,” Sniper demanded, and grit his teeth as the Pyro obliged, taking his cock deep. He fisted a hand in the short hair, but didn’t force himself down the Pyro’s throat. Instead he let the boy suck him his own accord. The Pyro paid specific attention to the head, suckling and laving it with a broad tongue before taking more in.
He had to admit the silken hardness felt nice in his mouth, pleasurable almost. The noises the Australian made in response to his movements… if he lightly nipped the underside, Sniper would make the hottest sound. If he soothed that spot immediately with his tongue and then swallowed the whole shaft down his throat… Long, sure fingers rubbed his scalp encouragingly, and Pyro couldn’t help but want to earn more of those touches.
Spy watched the scene unfold with heated interest, a hand idly toying with his own erection. Pyro on his hands and knees, willingly sucking Sniper off while Medic fucked him from behind. It was hot enough that he was surprised he hadn’t come already…
“Hey, so what’s going on in here- uh what the fuck?” Scout’s voice interrupted brusquely, but the trio in the middle of the room did not pause. The youngest stared blankly, his mouth gaping. Spy reached out and closed the American’s jaw for him.
“It iz called sex,” he provided with a mocking laugh. Scout ignored him and just watched, eyes wide as saucers. “Our Pyro is a woman, as I’m sure you have concluded.”
“And you’re last, maggot,” Soldier growled from behind, entering the room fully.
Sniper came with a sudden grunt. “Swallow it, sheila,” he ordered, holding Pyro’s head in place until he felt the muscles tighten. He pulled out and smiled. “Good girl, good girl…”
Pyro breathed hard, taking as much air in as he could. The smell and taste of cum made him feel dizzy and the rhythmic pounding of Medic’s cock inside of him only intensified it. Without moments, another dick was presented to him, this one unfamiliar. He stole a glance up, and then looked back down shamefully. Soldier.
Medic withdrew from the clenching hole and held his shaft, jerking himself closer to climax. Just as he was about to orgasm, he thrust back inside and hissed as he filled Pyro with his cum. Grunting with effort, he finished and took a moment to gather his bearings, rubbing the soft hips before withdrawing.
Quickly Scout jostled his way into place, his dick already rock hard from watching. The loud slurping sounds coming from Pyro’s mouth as she worked Soldier over only intensified his need, and Scout thrust into the trembling folds eagerly.
God, it felt so good, Pyro admitted, his nerves warm and tingling from the constant sensations. The Scout fucked as fast as he ran, with lightning quick strokes, obscenities raining from his lips. The particularly thick shaft in his mouth felt wonderful when he swallowed it down, stretching out his throat as calloused hands threaded through his hair. Soldier wasn’t nearly as talkative as Sniper had been, not a word from him as Pyro sucked him off.
It took only a few minutes for Scout to come, shouting as he did so, and then withdrawing, embarrassed that he had been so quick.
“I have an idea…” Spy said quietly, and Soldier’s cock slid from his mouth. “Stand up,” the Frenchman directed, and Pyro did so. He got a look at the others in the room. There were all there, still watching, but only Engineer was hard. Then Spy was embracing him, kissing him, and he couldn’t help but kiss back.
“Hold still,” Spy advised softly, and Pyro gasped as he was suddenly lifted up. He felt Soldier holding him from behind, and then he was settled down, a dick slipping into him again.
“Spy,” Pyro gasped, the first name he had cried. He felt something cold brush against his anus and suddenly realized what they were going to do. “Please be gentle,” he whispered.
“I don’t do ‘gentle’, private,” Soldier replied, and then a finger coated in gel slid into him. Pyro groaned and stiffened. No one had ever used him there before, and he forced himself to relax as another finger joined the first.
“Calm, ma petite, you must be calm,” Spy whispered hotly, kissing Pyro’s neck and jaw tenderly. Pyro absentmindedly wondered why the Frenchman had become so soft towards him all of a sudden… perhaps because there were others present now?
Two fingers became three and Pyro couldn’t help but be uncomfortable, his body demanding the invasive digits to be out. Then they were gone, but Pyro didn’t relax, he knew what was coming next. The blunt cockhead set against his asshole and then began to push.
Cries of pain escaped his lips and Spy kissed him, shushing him. “Relax, little one, it will not hurt if you relax…”
“Stop,” Pyro sobbed as agony overwhelmed his senses, “Please don’t, not there.”
“You oughta shut up and be glad I’m taking my time, bitch,” Soldier replied angrily. Holding Pyro’s hips so hard his knuckles were turning white, he suddenly thrust in roughly.
Pyro felt tears well up and spill down his cheeks, feeling like he was being split in half.
“Stop… stop,” he pleaded, but was given no answer as the two men began to bounce him up and down. He could smell blood, he knew that scent now as much as he knew the scent of his flamethrower. Soldier had torn him open. He clung to Spy, pressing his head into the hollow beneath the Frenchman’s chin. Dimly, he was aware of Spy whispering to him, not in English, presumably attempting to calm him.
Fuck, how it hurt! A burning along his spine and insides, tearing him apart. Soldier was merciless and strong, and only God knew how long he would last.
“Please,” Pyro mumbled, “Please Spy, make him stop. Make it stop.”
“I cannot make ‘im stop.”
He was shifted backwards, Soldier taking more of his weight, and he howled as this new position allowed the gruff man to go deeper. At the same time, Pyro noticed that the pain was simultaneously ebbing, going away with each blow of Soldier’s hips against his. Pyro forced himself to focus on Spy. The warm arms holding him, the sharp cologne, the slight body he was pressing himself against. The gentle words being whispered in his ear. He didn’t know why Spy had become so tender, but he didn’t question it.
The pain in his bottom had gone away completely, replaced with simple discomfort. Pyro kissed Spy’s neck weakly, groaned as he was tipped forward. Soldier’s next thrust caught him off guard and he whimpered with… wait, why didn’t that hurt? Oh. Oh… His scarred body finally relaxed in the arms surrounding it as soothing pleasure lapped over him. Soldier’s cock was insistent and pervasive, splitting him open but it didn’t hurt anymore.
“Unh… please…” Pyro moaned, ignoring Soldier’s bitter laugh as he pushed himself closer to Spy. The constant pounding became too much, and Pyro felt almost confused as his body neared orgasm.
“Are you going to come, ma petite?” Spy asked, his voice containing a hint of surprise. Pyro didn’t answer him, heat rushing through his body and down, down, down. He came with a cry and a shudder, bearing down on the two shafts within him. Soldier was next, biting Pyro’s shoulder hard as he spilled inside the scarred body. He didn’t take long to recuperate, and glanced at Spy in a wordless exchange. Together, they sat her back on one of the large medical table where she collapsed numbly.
Pyro could feel the come leaking out of him and it disgusted and aroused him at the same time.
“Ez eet my turn now?” a thick accent asked. Pyro shuddered internally, and turned his face away as he was rolled on his back and pulled to the end of the table. Guess it was Heavy’s turn.
“Have never seen boy with vagina before,” the Russian remarked thoughtfully, palming his ridiculously fat cock in one large hand as the other spread Pyro’s legs. Heavy was not shy in his open examination of Pyro’s genitals, and it embarrassed the scarred boy greatly. At least he wasn’t going to choke him on that thing… for all intents and purposes, that shouldn’t even be called a cock.
Then it was being pressed to his used hole and Pyro moaned pitifully as he was stretched open again. So big, so full! Unaware of himself, his legs wrapped around the broad waist and he helped Heavy seat himself in the tight passage.
“Good,” the large man groaned, “So good.” His movements were slow but intense and strong, much like his fighting style. Pyro didn’t know what to do. The onslaught this man was unleashing upon him, the constant delight of that massive shaft inside of him…
“More,” Pyro mumbled, “Please, more.”
“She likes et, she likes me,” Heavy rumbled, a note of satisfaction in his voice. Encouraged, he fucked Pyro harder, as if he wanted to drive the smaller body through the table.
Fuck, it felt so good! So good to be so stretched out and so undeniably full of cock… Pyro’s head swam with bliss and he started to raise his hips to meet each of Heavy’s powerful thrusts. He reached out to touch the Russian, but then his hands were grabbed and restrained. Not by Heavy.
“Medic?” Pyro asked weakly as his hands were restrained with durable leather cuffs. The same he had been in earlier, when he had awoken. Medic kissed him chastely, and then Pyro noticed Spy perched beside him. He was jerking himself off, his eyes locked on Pyro. Flushing, the scarred boy looked away. No one had ever looked at him like that before and it made him uncomfortable.
Heavy’s actions became more haphazard, his mutterings incoherent and obviously Russian. With a terrifying rumble, he came, holding Pyro to him tightly. Pyro could feel the large shaft tremble inside of him, spurting its load, coating his inner walls.
As Heavy withdrew, Pyro shuddered and abruptly came again, crying his orgasm as he seized. Lips set upon his, Spy’s if he had to guess, and kissed him thoroughly. A hand dabbled in the come dripping from his pussy before fingers slid in easily. Pyro wondered if Spy and Medic were the only ones remaining in the room, but dismissed the thought as someone straddled his face.
He opened his eyes. Spy looked down at him, erect cock in his hand, stroking. Then he pressed it to Pyro’s lips. The marred mouth opened obediently, licking and suckling the engorged head.
The fingers inside of him had multiplied, and Pyro made a noise of pain as a fourth finger was added. Cool lube was drizzled and the hand pushed deeper, deeper, twisting around. Was… were they going to fist him?
Spy forced his way into Pyro’s throat, a gloved hand fisted in the short brown hair to hold the boy still. He could hear Medic behind him, but he wasn’t sure what the German was doing. Nor did he care. He wanted to release in the cuntboy’s mouth, and he was going to do exactly that.
Oh, fuck! That hand… pushing inside of him… Pyro moaned around the shaft in his throat, then tensed up as something warm and wet surrounded his clit. Started to suck, gently. Oh god, someone was going down on him while trying to fit their whole fist inside of him.
The hot pleasure was so unexpected that Pyro came a third time, clenching around the fist within him and bearing down on it hard. The hand didn’t budge, actually pushing through the rolling muscles and Pyro screamed as the unknown man slid in up to his thick wrist.
Spy fucked that hot throat with short strokes. He couldn’t take it any longer, he had to come. Pyro was wriggling desperately underneath him, sobbing and crying, the tight throat convulsing around his cock delightfully. Burying himself one last time, Spy groaned as he came.
“Swallow,” he ordered, “All of it.” He waited until Pyro had done as he demanded before sitting up and getting off of the prone boy. As he turned around, he saw why Pyro had been so vocal and restless.
Medic’s hand was buried between Pyro’s legs, up to the wrist, while his mouth was firmly attached to the boy’s clit. Spy could hear the gushing sound of Medic’s hand moving in and out steadily, fucking Pyro with his fist.
Able to breathe now, Pyro took in a quick lungful of air, releasing it with a howl of pleasure.
“Please, please, please,” he implored, though he didn’t know what he was begging for. Medic tweaked his fingers upward, seeking a certain area within Pyro’s body. When he found it, Pyro about came up off the table, screaming as his senses were overwhelmed. His orgasm rushed him hard and he spurted around the large hand inside of him, forcing it out of his body.
Panting for oxygen, Pyro lay there like a rag doll, spent and exhausted, covered in sweat and come. His many scars glowed in the overhead light, and Medic kissed him again, untying his arms. Pyro didn’t sit up.
“Can I go back to my room?” he whispered, barely able to voice the words. Medic laughed and Spy helped the used boy sit up.
“For now, Liebchen. For now.”
Shit. Damn formatting. Let's see if I can fix this.
He had struggled and fought to the best of his ability. The two of them had set upon him like hungry vultures, stripping the clothing from his body and attacking mercilessly. He had fought because there were only two of them this time; he thought he might be able to win. He was wrong.
They had beaten him viciously until he complied. A broken rib and a fracture in his left wrist, bruises echoing up and down his body. He was so sore and just wanted to lay on the table forever. The medigun had fixed him physically, but did nothing for his spinning head.
They had never shown indications of being able to be this violent... They were all killers, yes, but previously it had been hard (damn near impossible) for him to imagine the soft-spoken Texan and the polite Aussie being capable of such monstrosities. In the past, he figured that the others would eventually find out, and he knew this would happen in some form or another. He just always thought his greatest enemies would have been Spy and Soldier.
"You know..." Medic came into view and watched him, eyes unreadable, "They vill do this again. And if you fight, they vill break you again."
"Your point?" he asked.
"Perhaps if you committed yourself to a relationship vith one of us... He could protect you from the others."
"You just want me for yourself." The German grinned wickedly.
"Maybe. But you know that if you were under my care... it would never be allowed to happen again. I am gentle, you know this. I did not hit you a single time... and Heavy is quite enamored with you. He would not hurt you either."
"You gave Spy a sedative to inject me with! You sent him to get me, you tied me to the table-" Pyro's eyes suddenly widened as he realized that Medic had planned all of this, had known this would happen. He cursed. Medic came close and stroked the scarred face.
"I vondered how long it vould take you to figure it out... you are not a dumb individual, little Pyro." The man on the table turned his face away.
"Leave me alone."
"You vill think about my offer... and you vill realize it is your only option. Vhere else vould you go? To Spy? He is unable to protect you as Heavy and I can... Scout could not protect you, nor could Demo. Engineer, Sniper and Soldier could, but they would beat you within an inch of your life in the process. You have seen how they act. They are animals. I vill leave you to think about my suggestion, little Pyro."
"Don't call me that."
Medic went to leave and he just lay on the table silently, hugging his knees to his chest. He hated to admit it, absolutely hated it, but Medic was right. The German had set up this situation perfectly, and it had played right into his hands like a sick movie.
“Wait,” Pyro said quietly. Part of him hoped that Medic wouldn’t hear him, but the shadow that casted over him again told him otherwise.
“Ja?” Medic replied.
“… You won’t hurt me?”
“Ve vill not hurt you as long as you do not resist.”
“How will you protect me from the others?”
“I vill tell them that you are not to be touched… anyone who disobeys vill have to answer to Heavy or myself.”
It was a perfect plan, Pyro had to admit. How much he wanted to knock that asshole’s face right off, though! Rage and fear coursed through his system, and he rolled over to face the doctor. He sat up slowly, not caring as the sheet fell away from his naked and scarred torso.
“You promise?” he whispered, staring at Medic’s feet. The German leaned in close to him, wrapped him in strong arms, and kissed his scarred cheek.
“You have my vord.”
It took Pyro a full minute to reply, his eyes welling with tears because of what he was about to say.
“I agree with your plan,” he whispered. A few tears escaped his eyes and trickled down his face slowly. Medic’s hand stroked under his chin, forcing him to look up, but he would not meet the doctor’s eyes.
“Look at me.”
Reluctantly, he did so.
Never had he wanted to die as much as he did right now. Hesitantly, he pressed his lips to Medic’s. He couldn’t help more tears from pouring down his face as the German kissed him slowly. Gently. When the doctor pulled away, he had a smile on his face.
“The others vill be told. No one else vill touch you again.” He straightened up a bit, eyes hardening slightly. “Now… after dinner tonight, you vill come to my quarters. Ja?”
Pyro couldn’t look at him anymore. “Y-yes…”
“Good boy. You may stay here for a little longer if you vish, but the battle begins soon and I must prepare.”
Medic left the room and Pyro sat there, mind reeling. He got up and dressed in his off-duty clothing. He felt numb and did not notice as his feet automatically carried him out of the med bay, down the stairs, into his room. No one was there, thankfully, and he dressed in silence.
“Now… after dinner tonight, you vill come to my quarters. Ja?”
For the first time, he wished that there was no such thing as respawn technology. Strapping his shotgun and ax to his back, he grabbed his flame thrower and set it on the desk, reaching for his mask. It went on comfortably and he couldn’t help but feel slightly safer behind the black plastic.
He reached for his flamethrower again and trudged upstairs just as the clocked struck eight.
Pyro walked up the basement stairs, considering his plan of action for the day. Resentment settled over him like a malaise. Usually, if he wasn’t out on his own on the battlefield, he stuck with Engineer. His flamethrower was the most effective spy check they had until the Texan devised something better.
Today he didn’t even want to see Engineer. He didn’t want to see any of his fucking team; he didn’t want to help them. The only person he didn’t feel absolute hatred towards was, strangely enough, Heavy. He didn’t understand why.
The main teleporter took them to Well today. Pyro was slightly thankful; it would be easy to find a place to hide there. He climbed a set of stairs, broke a few doors open with his ax (leaving them carefully intact, so as not to arouse suspicion), and ended up on the roof. He found a little corner, an overhang that provided a nice shady spot for him to stay. No one would find him here.
He noticed that if he crept forward just a bit, he could see the main exchange area. Theoretically, he could pick off the other team with his shotgun. He was quite handy with the weapon, despite rarely using it. Almost immediately he wanted to dismiss the idea. It could very well give away his location. At the same time, if he didn’t log any kills… He could get in a lot of trouble. Hiding was not looked favorably upon.
Pyro decided to creep around on the roof, quiet and slow, taking quick aim with his shotgun and firing before moving on. He proved quite adept at it, hitting his mark more often than not and wounding various unlucky BLUs. He never shot from the same place twice, and that caution served him well. By the end of the day, he had logged twelve kills and twenty-six assists… and not a single death.
When five o’clock came and he had to go back to the teleporter, he avoided his teammates by using odd routes to get to their “home room” and being the last one to go through. Once in the base, he stole down to his room, silent and unseen.
He was glad that he made it without having to deal with anyone. Locking his door, he fired up his flamethrower to check his room for a cloaked Spy, but his search turned up nothing and he almost set his bed ablaze.
Pyro stripped and showered, thinking about his log for the day. He had never been so efficient before. Perhaps they would reward him for his good work – that happened sometimes. If someone did particularly well, a package would come for them the next day, containing something they enjoyed. An album of a band they liked, or a type of food they favored. Sometimes it was new equipment, like a new weapon.
He kind of hoped he would get a package tomorrow, but doubtless the Administrator knew exactly how he had achieved such a good record. They were not supposed to break down doors and that haggard old woman seemed to know everything that went on during battle. Pyro had looked for the cameras that he was sure were there, but never found any. It was odd.
As he dried himself after his shower and put on his off duty clothes, he looked at his mask, sitting on his desk. Then he glanced at the clock. Six pm. Time for dinner. He really didn’t want to go upstairs and see everyone else. He sat down on his bed with a sigh and his stomach growled its annoyance.
Ignoring it, he turned his attention to the large tank beside his bed. It was full of moist dirt and green plants, and at first one might think was a terrarium until they looked closer and saw the slim, scaled creatures flitting about the soil.
About half a dozen salamanders habited the tank, and Pyro cared for them greatly. He had found the first salamander the second week he had been here while wandering around outside.
He’d found the tank in a storage room (they were full of the weirdest shit) and had carefully crafted a perfect environment for the little creatures. He’d found a second salamander few weeks later, and then another, and then a few more. The amphibians lived in apparent harmony, happily eating the worms and bugs he found for them both within and without the base.
He didn’t know why he’d started collecting the little guys, but rather liked them and didn’t worry about it.
His stomach grumbled again and Pyro sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he would have to go eat. He hadn’t eaten breakfast this morning, and it felt like his stomach was going to digest itself. Putting his mask and shoes on, he left the room.
Pyro didn’t look up from the floor as he entered the dining room. The others were already seated and eating, some nearly finished. He noticed that Spy was absent from the table, dismissed it, and got his plate and utensils. Tonight’s meal was spaghetti noodles, a choice of red or white sauce, “meatballs”, stale bread sticks, and something green that was probably supposed to be a salad. Fruit and pudding lay on a side table.
Pyro made a mental note to grab some before he went back to his room.
He didn’t listen to the others talking, and carefully lifted his mask up just enough for his mouth to be free. Pyro ate silently, not a change from the usual, and ignored the feeling of eyes on him.
Pyro finished eating rather quickly and put his dishes in the sink before grabbing a few pieces of fruit and heading for the exit. Someone grabbed his wrist, and he stopped, turning to see Medic looking at him hard.
“I vill see you in a five minutes,” he said sternly, squeezing firmly before letting go. Sufficiently freaked out, the younger man left the room quickly and practically ran down his quarters.
He set the fruit on his desk and took a moment to catch his breath. His heart pounded in his chest. Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to willingly let that monster fuck him?
Pyro mulled over his options in his head. He could just not go… he glanced at his shotgun, leaning against the wall. He could shoot them. That would just make them angrier though, and when they came back from respawn they would exact revenge. Sharply, he remembered being sandwiched between Spy and Soldier as they impaled him mercilessly. His body thrummed with hurt just thinking about it.
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t just give himself to that asshole simply to save his own skin. He could survive this.
Maybe he could do the same thing he had done earlier today. Maybe he could hide.
Pyro nodded to himself. That was what he would do. He took a backpack out of his closet and threw the fruit in, along with some books sitting on his desk, his pillow and a thin blanket. He shouldered the pack, satisfied with his choices.
Grabbing his sledgehammer, he checked over his room one last time before pressing his ear to his door. Satisfied that no one was outside waiting for him in the hall, he opened the door quietly and slipped out.
They couldn’t get to him if they couldn’t find him, right?
It wasn’t hard to find a suitable hiding place. The base was fucking enormous, and sometimes other teammates got lost in the maze of hallways. Pyro had spent a lot of time exploring the base and knew the layout well enough to avoid that fate.
He quickly found a suitable shelter. It was a rather large, and empty, closet in a room that was, curiously enough, inside another room on the far end of the base. It was confusing, but Pyro was grateful for his luck. The hallway to this place was lined with identical doors that opened into almost identical rooms. Surely he would be safe here, if only for a few nights.
Not daring to turn on a light, he left the closet door cracked to take advantage of what little daylight was left. He lay down his blanket and pillow and took one of the books out of his pack. Making himself comfortable, he began to read, trying to ignore the roiling pit of nausea that had become his stomach.
Medic would go looking for him. He would have to face the doctor sooner or later. Tomorrow dinner-time would be the latest he could avoid the German. Pyro looked at the two apples and an orange he had managed to take. That wouldn’t last long. He had no doubt that Medic would punish him for running away.
No. He couldn’t think of things like that.
Unable to read, he put the book down. Curling onto his side, he closed his eyes and prayed that they wouldn’t find him tonight.
He was woken up abruptly by the door opening and someone talking. Like a shot, he reacted. For a moment he forgot where he was, then grabbed his sledgehammer and turned towards the source of the noise.
He stopped short. Heavy stood there, looking just as surprised as Pyro.
“Why do you hide? Doctor is angry,” he chided, plucking the weapon from Pyro’s hands and scooping the boy up effortlessly. Pyro struggled in the strong grip.
“Let me go!” he cried, but Heavy only clutched him tighter. “I was hiding because I didn’t want you to find me. Please don’t take me to Medic, Heavy, please.”
The Russian stopped and looked at him. “Why not? We are nice.”
“Yes, and Medic’s angry, isn’t he? He will hurt me.”
Heavy shook his head. “No, will not let him hurt you. He is more sad.” Pyro sighed; obviously this wouldn’t work with the large man.
“Please, Heavy. Put me down. I don’t want to have sex with you or Medic.”
“You must. Is for good of team.”
Pyro fell silent. He wished he had brought his shotgun.
“Please just put me down. I can walk.”
“You will run.”
“I promise I won’t run.” The larger man looked at him carefully.
“You won’t run?”
Heavy set him down gingerly and Pyro sighed before leading the way to Medic’s quarters. A feeling of impending doom set over him, and he tried to brush it aside. No matter what Heavy said, this was going to hurt.
Soon enough they reached the door to the doctor’s room, right off the med bay. If Pyro was right, the two were also connected somehow.
Pyro glanced at Heavy and let the Russian open the door.
“Did you find – ah, little Pyro…” Medic was dressed in his off-duty clothes, as they all were, and wore an odd smirk. Pyro felt his stomach drop, and stared at the floor.
Medic said nothing but loomed close to him, over him. Suddenly his mask was rudely pulled off, a hand running through his hair, down his cheek, cupping his chin.
“Look at me, bitte.”
He did so. Medic’s eyes flashed with anger and irritation and Pyro couldn’t help but flinch.
“Do not tremble; I am not going to hit you. I am going to warn you. If you do this again, I promise that ve vill beat you so hard that you vill vish I had beaten you tonight. And I vill not heal you until right before battle the next day. Do you understand?” his voice vibrated with authority and it struck Pyro to his core, his whole body icing over in fear.
“Yes,” he finally whispered.
“Good. Now, for tonight’s activities…” he leaned in and kissed Pyro chastely, “Vhy don’t you go and entertain Heavy for me, hmm?”
Pyro blinked and let his gaze drop. The Russian was already sitting on Medic’s bed, his boots to the side. Those mighty arms reached out to him as he walked forward, gathering him close and bringing him astride the broad lap.
Quickly, Heavy’s prickly lips covered his own and he was kissed forcefully. One hand cupped the back of his head almost tenderly, the other pulling at his shirt and loose trousers.
Pyro stiffened, unable to react as he was molested. Flashbacks of last night rushed him and he gasped in mental anguish. Undaunted, Heavy finished stripping him and lay him on the bed. A hand slid between his legs, spread him, and he just stared at the ceiling, numb, as fingers pressed inside of him.
He came back to the present with a cry, pushing Heavy’s arms away.
“No, please,” he whispered, looking at Medic with pleading eyes, “Please stop. I can’t.” Heavy sat up a little bit, waiting for the older man to order him onward.
“You vill,” Medic replied coolly from where he sat at his desk, legs crossed politely. As if he were at a fucking opera or something! “You vill or he vill break you in half. Heavy, continue.”
Heavy did as instructed, shoving his hand back in place before pinning Pyro down to the bed. The boy struggled, he couldn’t help it. Then something happened that Pyro did not quite understand. It happened too fast. How could the Heavy be so strong?
The hand inside of him was gone, sliding up his back and then he was flipped over onto his knees. Thick fingers grabbed his arm and wrenched it back and up. Pyro screamed in pain.
“Be still and I stop,” Heavy said, “Fight and I break your arm.”
Pyro stopped moving, but couldn’t prevent the sob that escaped his throat.
“Medic,” he begged, “Please.” He could feel Heavy shifting, and then something pressed up against his slit. Pyro didn’t have to be told what it was. He groaned as Heavy pushed forward, surging into him like a tsunami. His face crinkled in pain; fuck but Heavy’s cock was so big!
“Stop,” he wept, then bit off a cry as the Russian began fucking him earnestly. The hard thrusts rocked his whole body and it was then that he realized he was crying. Tears rained continuously onto the sheets and all he could do was clench his fists and hold on.
“You are beautiful like this,” a whisper in his ear. Medic. “Such a good boy, taking Heavy so vell.” Fingers stroked his face, lips kissed his cheek. “He vill come soon, and I vill reward you for being so good. I don’t vant to hurt you, little Pyro… I can take, but I can give also. You vill learn this.”
Pyro shook his head, groaning as a large hand – Heavy’s – snuck against his hip. A rough finger pad tweaked his clit and he shuddered as a wave of warmth struck through him.
“Yes, you liked that? Again, Heavy.”
He called out again, bucking his hips backwards involuntarily. Why did it feel good? Then Heavy was doing it constantly and Pyro couldn’t stop wriggling in the large man’s grip.
“Please,” he begged. Medic was talking to him, but he couldn’t process the words as pleasure rushed all too quickly. It overwhelmed him, drowned him, and he swirled into a hazy abyss as he came with a shrill cry. Heavy’s movements did not stop nor slow and just as Pyro came back to his senses, the large man groaned with his own release.
He could feel Heavy coming, he could feel the thick cock jerk minutely within him as it filled his body with heat. Then Heavy was withdrawing and he could feel it leaking out of his pussy as he knelt there dumbly. His shoulder hurt from the abuse, and he rolled it slowly. He felt Medic climb onto the bed.
Pyro was turned onto his back and the German held him in strong arms, practically cradling him.
“Very good kleine, very good…” he purred in Pyro’s ear, kissing the scarred neck, “Kiss me, little one.”
He complied automatically, pressing his lips to Medic’s. A warm tongue slid into his mouth and he made a noise of discomfort, trying to pull away. Medic tasted like filmy sweat and desire. Pyro flinched as he heard the zipper of trousers; his legs were being spread again, so wide, and lifted to rest on Medic’s hips. The youth couldn’t help but pull away from the kiss, closing his eyes tightly. He did nothing to stop the low cry that came from his throat as the German slid home.
Medic shushed him with a finger against the scarred lips. The slender length filled him in a way that Heavy hadn’t, and Pyro was suddenly reminded of how gentle the man had been last night. How gentle Spy had been. With a start, he realized that he would rather this be Spy inside him, using him, rather than the half-insane doctor and his pet Russian.
Medic had hilted himself, but he didn’t move. He watched his subject quietly. He waited patiently until Pyro began to squirm in his grasp, uncomfortable with the stillness. Pyro could feel the cock throb inside him, pulsing with each beat of Medic’s heart. He didn’t know if he wanted it gone or moving.
His body chose the latter for him, rolling his hips against Medic’s as his hands sought the man’s broad shoulders.
“How sweetly pathetic,” the German purred, mouthing the soft neck as he quickly established a firm pace. The remains of Heavy’s orgasm had left Pyro’s insides slick and smooth, easing Medic’s passage. He straightened up, allowing himself to go deeper, and made a soft noise of pleasure.
“I knew you were a good boy at heart,” he murmured to his charge, stroking Pyro’s hips with each thrust, “You only need a bit of training. You enjoy this, don’t you?” He punctuated his words with a few particularly harsh thrusts, the bed shaking under his force.
Pyro grit his teeth and refused to answer, fingers digging hard into muscular shoulders. He gasped as a hand wrapped around his throat, pressing his trachea, cutting off his air. He choked, his hands automatically scrabbling to Medic’s wrist.
“You will answer when you are spoken to, kleine.” The German’s tone was dangerous and Pyro nodded quickly. “Do you understand?”
Medic’s grip relaxed and he resumed his pace. It did not take him long to reach orgasm and he came with a low moan. Pyro had long since faded out, letting his mind go blank, but returned to himself when he felt Medic move off of him.
“You did vell,” Medic murmured to him, kissing his forehead. Pyro said nothing and simply stared at the ceiling. He would admit that he didn’t hurt physically. They had not been overtly rough with him. Medic had kept his promise.
The German had him cradled in one arm, on his side, and he kissed Pyro’s cheek.
“I take, and I give. I promised ve vould not hurt you…” Another kiss. “But I’m afraid I do have to punish you for running away… I have told the others that you are fair game until tomorrow’s battle.”
“Wh-what?” A firm hand ruffled the short brown hair, traced the scar down until it brushed by Pyro’s left eye. Medic’s blue eyes fired a bolt into his chest, his heart threatening to implode in response. He gaped shamelessly, horrified.
“I told you that I will not beat you this evening and I hold to that. I did not say anything about anyone other than Heavy and myself.”
Pyro snarled and his face screwed into anger.
“You bastard!” The resultant slap echoed harshly in the small room. Heavy watched from the corner. Pyro briefly wondered where he had been throughout all of this. His cheek stung hot and he turned his face back to look at Medic.
“Dress yourself and get out. I do not want to see you until battle tomorrow.”
Stumbling as if drunk, Pyro scrambled his clothes on and fled. His vision was a blur as the door slammed shut behind him and he ran. If he could get to his room, get to his gun, he might be okay. He would shoot them until they stopped coming. He could do this.
He ducked down a side hall, running as quickly and as quietly as he could. A burn in his lungs reminded him that he was holding his breath and he took a few slow, silent breaths. His sides felt like he had been torn open by shrapnel. He didn’t dare breathe any faster though for fear of making a sound.
One more turn before he would reach the stairs! Ears painfully sensitive, awaiting any slight noise, were nearly split in half by his own sudden shriek as he felt an arm impact his abdomen. Someone had stuck their arm out and caught him!
Pyro reacted immediately, twisting his elbow as hard as he could into the mystery individual’s shoulder. There was a loud crack and a hoarse yell; Pyro dropped to his knees to evade his attacker’s grasp and launched himself forward from the balls of his feet. Tucking into a roll, he popped out in a run – then promptly slammed into a wall of muscle, knocking him on his ass with a grunt.
“What do you think you’re doing!” Soldier’s voice boomed in his ears like a bomb. Large hands clapped down onto his shoulders and Pyro screamed as two thumbs jammed into the pressure points along his clavicle. Agony struck through him and left him sobbing for air, limp on the ground like a dead thing.
He didn’t fight as he was lifted in a fireman’s carry, staring at the ground and Soldier’s ass.
“Bitch broke m’fucking shoulder,” Sniper’s curse brimmed with spite and Pyro felt a launch of nausea go through him. This was going to hurt so much.
Soldier dumped him on a bed roughly and Pyro grunted as he landed on his wrist. The joint popped sickeningly and Pyro winced in pain.
He gathered himself to his knees as fast as he could and looked up, afraid to see what nightmare awaited him. Sniper was snarling with rage. Engineer held a coil of yellow cord. Soldier’s mouth twisted in a horrifying smirk.
“Now you just let us play with ya, lil missy,” Engineer’s words poured over him like warm honey, the man obviously trying to play off of Pyro’s emotions. “Quit yer fightin and we’ll treat you well… don’t struggle now.” His hands were grabbed by the cold shock of steel. Pyro stilled as the Gunslinger closed around his wrist; it would take literally no effort for the Texan to crush his hand like a ball of paper.
Engineer’s face hovered centimeters from his. Pyro felt his gut lurch again and pressed their lips together. The whiskery lips relaxed against his and the man started kissing him, enthusiastic. How he didn’t want to do this, to cooperate with the men abusing him! He had no choice. It was either this or more pain.
So he cooperated. He let Soldier strip him, then sucked Sniper’s cock while Engineer took him from behind. He let Soldier fuck his face before the rough American bent him over the bed and spread his ass. Fingers wet with lube slipped up inside of him and Pyro hummed to try and calm himself.
Trembling, he forced himself to relax as he felt the blunt head kiss against him.
“Soldier,” he whispered, “Please be gentle.” The other man didn’t glorify his plea with an answer and slowly pushed forward. Pyro’s body gave steadily and he couldn’t deny that, like this, it didn’t really hurt at all. It just felt… different.
“Soldier,” he whispered.
“You like it, cupcake?” the older man gruffed in his ear, voice dripping with contented lust. Pyro felt the warm thighs brush against him and exhaled slowly. Soldier was seated fully within him. It was… almost pleasant.
He whispered wordless sounds as Soldier pulled back and began to thrust. The launcher’s movements were slow, steady and filled Pyro’s abdomen with hot pressure until he was bouncing back against the cock spearing him so ruthlessly.
“Tell me you like it.”
Pyro gasped uselessly, rocking back against each hard
Soldier obliged, puffing with exertion, rivulets of sweat rolling down his humid skin. With a prolonged growl he came, arching hard into Pyro’s soft body. He quickly withdrew, kissing the moist neck almost tenderly as he let Sniper take over. Sniper took no time sheathing himself in Pyro’s slit, his style rapid and shallow.
Soldier watched from the sidelines as the gunman brought himself to release. Engineer had already left, leaving just the Australian to exhaust himself. He came quickly, grunting his orgasm into Pyro’s mouth as he flooded the boy’s pussy.
“So smooth,” he mumbled, “So tight.”
Pyro could only cry in response.
I read the first part of this on ff.n, I think, and I loved it.
And now it's here with three parts? Not just a oneshot? And everything is fantastic?
Made my night, to say the least.
I almost feel guilty for enjoying this so much.
This story made me sad.
Me too, but also makes me so horny i can barely think straight...
Oh, how i wish Pyro had a sweet and hot cock instead of this slit...
Don't see it as an offense, please. I liked this fic, Mr. Egg.
This threads needs more rape, cruelty and sorrow.
I definitely feel guilty about enjoying this so much. Made it about half-way through like a normal afanfic story before the reality set in like a bucket of ice water to the face.
Question, though. How old is Pyro, exactly? He's got to be an adult, but you constantly refer to him as a boy. Is it just the good-looking androgynous face or is he Scout's age?
I first read this on pastebin and I am so glad to see that it has more parts, they are excellent! I still have mixed feelings about this, I feel kind of horrible for liking it as much as I do, but I can't deny the fact that this arouses greatly. I sincerely hope you continue it Eggwhites.
Hey, it's the person who originally requested this! Was pleasantly surprised to find more parts on your pastebin and am loving it so far. We should do a collaboration sometime! I'm visiting /y/ again so hit me up there if you're interested (also left my email in this post). I actually did fulfill your picture request at some point but I think it got with my HD failure...
All I can hope for is a wonderfully gruesome revenge-filled ending.
Look, I'm sorry, but I had to stop reading once I read Pyro starting to get into it in the first post.
That isn't how rape works.
Pyro is meant to be around 26 or so. A lot of pre-hormone-therapy transmen look much younger than they are though, hence the constant "boy" thing.
You're right, that's not how rape works. That is, however, how fantasy/non-fiction works/can work. Some people are into it and some people aren't. I hope you find something you like better.
Gotta' say, you just went up fifty points in my book for not going off on a tangent about how if I don't like it I shouldn't read it.
You guys make me have faith in the Internet.
Also, love the fic.
Damn it Heavy, what are you doing.
He couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t a choice. It wasn’t an option. He knew even as he lay down that he was only going to stare at the ceiling. He simply accepted it, and spent the next eighty-four minutes doing just that. There was an aching pain in his bottom and his wrist was swollen, but otherwise he was unharmed. For the time being.
The hateful trio had let him go after they were done with him. Pyro was grateful that they hadn’t been too physical this time, and he hoped that no one else would harass him during the night. His bare fingers played over the cool metal of his shotgun. Would the three of them pursue him again? Would Spy come for him, or Medic or Heavy? He doubted that Scout would show up, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because Pyro was only two years older than the rabbit.
Sometime during the night he vomited, rolling on his side suddenly and gagging the bitter poison onto the floor. He sat up and blinked, dizzy with nausea. He stared into the dark for a long time before he lay back down and closed his eyes.
He was jerked back into consciousness when there was a sudden knock on his door. Chocolate eyes shot open and his whole body went taut. He didn’t breathe, waiting.
Spy? Pyro’s face knit in confusion as to why the Frenchman would speak. Why had he knocked when he could have snuck in, probably effortlessly?
“Pyro, I’m coming in.”
His heart thumped in his chest and he grabbed his shotgun, bringing it to his shoulder just as the door popped open and Spy entered the room. Light flooded Pyro’s eyes, blinding him for a brief second.
The older man stopped, raising his palms to Pyro when he saw the gun. He eyed the puddle of vomit for a brief second before his eyes locked onto the younger man.
“I am not going to ‘arm you,” he said quickly, “Don’t shoot.” Pyro halted for a beat, two, three. Spy didn’t move, just watching, waiting for the frightened one to act. The shotgun was lowered and Pyro got up, moving quickly to close the door before anyone else could come in.
“What do you want,” he whispered. His voice was hoarse and breathless; terrified.
“I’m not going to ‘urt you, I swear.”
“Then why are you here.”
“I didn’t know Medic was going to do this.”
“You kidnapped me! You knew I was going to be raped!”
“I didn’t know that they were all going… to do that.”
Pyro stared, brown eyes catching Spy’s sapphire gaze. He had lowered his gun only slightly and stood by the desk. His posture was stiff, awkward. Spy remained near the door, hands raised as if to protect himself. His eyes were averted, resting on the salamander tank. Pyro racked his shotgun defensively.
“Leave me alone,” his words came fast and thin, “Please just leave me alone. Or let me borrow your cloak if you really want to help me.” Much to Pyro’s surprise, Spy nodded and unstrapped the watch from his wrist.
“Let me show you how it works,” he offered. Pyro shook his head.
“Why are you helping me?” His voice was screechy with panic.
“What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything-“
“Liar!” The blast was loud as hell in the small room as a portion of Spy’s left elbow exploded. The Frenchman grabbed at his arm and shot towards the door. “Get out!” Pyro screamed and fired the gun again, this time at the ceiling. Plaster rained down like lace as Spy fumbled the latch open and disappeared through.
Pyro kicked the door shut and fired into the ceiling again. His veins sang with adrenaline and fear. He didn’t know why Spy had come in, what was that dick trying to pull? The specifics didn’t matter. It was enough to figure that Spy was probably going to fuck him over somehow.
He couldn’t trust any of them. It’s not that he ever trusted them to begin with, but now it was an absolute. Well, Heavy hadn’t hurt him. But still. He was more alone now than he had ever been before. Pyro looked into the salamander tank and, as hard as he tried not to, began to cry.
Tomorrow he would put more locks on his door. Deadbolts, even. But for now, he wasn’t safe here. Pyro pressed his ear to the door, listening carefully for others that might be in the hall. Nothing. He grabbed a box of shells, slipping them in his pocket. It was then he noticed that Spy had dropped his watch. He picked it up, looking at it for a long moment. It fit nicely in his pocket with his shells.
Pyro stole out of the room, shotgun clutched tightly to his chest. No one was going to touch him again tonight.
He walked as quickly and as quietly as he could. The maze of hallways was endless and he chose a small meeting room that they had never used (to his knowledge, anyway). It was a good walk away from the living quarters of everyone else. Curling up in a corner, shotgun securely in hand, Pyro waited for the sun to rise.
Eventually, the adrenaline wore off to a degree and he fell into a light doze. He was woken up by the morning sun shining relentlessly into his eyes. He wasn’t used to such harsh light so early in the morning, and blinked a few times.
He had made it through the night unscathed. Pyro wondered what time it was. Rising to his feet, he stretched the kinks out of his body from sleeping while leaned against a wall. His back was sore as hell, but it was a small price to pay.
It wasn’t five minutes before he was back in his room. The door had been ajar, but nothing within was disturbed. Pyro wondered who had come looking for him and decided it was better that he didn’t know.
It was 0716. His stomach growled insistently; breakfast was usually at 0700. He’d been too panicked to eat lately. Dressing himself in his uniform and gasmask, he left his weapons on his bed and went upstairs to eat.
Scout and Engineer were in the dining area, eating pancakes and toast respectfully. Scout didn’t even look up when Pyro entered the room, a small flush just coloring his face. Engineer looked up and kept his gaze on Pyro for an uncomfortably long time.
Pyro grabbed some fruit and toast, anything he could pick up and go. He was determined to leave as quickly as possible. The way Engineer was staring at him made him want to throw up.
He left the area quickly, barely even looking where he was going. A wall of human slammed into him as he turned a corner.
“Little Pyro?” Heavy’s voice asked.
“Heavy.” His voice was barely a squeak, muffled as it was through the mask. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“Nyet, would never hurt Pyro,” he chastised. “Come, breakfast with me. I make sure no one hurt you, okay?” His sincerity made Pyro suspicious. And why wouldn’t it? At the same time… Heavy had been gentle with him every time, had never hurt him.
“I don’t want to eat breakfast in there,” Pyro whispered, “Engineer is in there.” The Russian made a face, thinking.
“Then we eat somewhere else,” he concluded, “Maybe outside?” That sounded reasonable. The short male didn’t know what to think. He wanted to trust Heavy, he wanted to have one ally instead of nothing.
Without saying a word, Pyro nodded.
Heavy went into the dining area and Pyro waited in the hallway. Anxiety washed through him like a disease. It took a decade for Heavy to come back out, holding a tray stacked high with pancakes that were liberally covered in butter and syrup. A thermos was clutched in his free hand, dwarfed by the man’s size.
“Follow,” he said cheerfully, leading the way. Pyro walked behind him, shrinking almost into the wall. The Russian led him out of the base, to a small alcove with an old wooden picnic table. The grass was dry and brown, slightly crispy underfoot.
Heavy sat and Pyro took a place in front of him, arranging the mask so that he could eat. For a few minutes, they said nothing, both chewing their food quietly.
It was Heavy who finally broke the silence.
“They hurt you,” he stated flatly. Pyro didn’t look up, he simply nodded. The toast was bone-dry in his mouth but he ate it anyway. Better this than nothing.
“I love Doctor, but I do not like how he treats you. It is wrong. Boy should not be hurt, should be loved.”
Pyro stared at him. “… I should go.”
“No, don’t go yet. Please. I will not hurt you. I am sorry that I touched you, had no choice. Doctor wanted me to do it,” here, Heavy turned his face away, “And I wanted to make you feel good. The way they hurt you, it hurt me too.”
God, how he wanted to believe the large man. To know that someone was on his side. He remembered how Spy had come to him in the night, the words he had said. Heavy was saying similar things, but he actually seemed honest about it.
“I went to find you, last night. To protect you. You were gone, not in your room.”
Pyro couldn't deal with this right now. He didn't know if Heavy was actually sincere or not. He just wanted to be alone. Slowly, he took the watch out of his pocket and fumbled with it for a moment. It took him only a minute to figure out how it worked.
“What is that?” Heavy asked, curious.
Without another word, Pyro vanished.
I like how you refer to pyro as a boy, with he's and him's. It really helps drive home the identity of the pyro.
Not gonna lie, if you referred to the pyro as she/her I feel the idea of a "Tranny" pyro would come off as a cheep gimmick to get the"gay only" crowd interested.
I was craving for this:
"(...)Boy should not be hurt, should be loved.”
And them the large man jumped on the boy. Pyro didn't screamed, didn't said anything, didn't even look surprised or specially frightened. He should know. He thought; while Heavy pinned his small form against the squeaking table, a disturbing grin in his lips; that he inconsciously knew that it was a cruel trap, and a sign:
Do not trust.
"That's" Heavy grunted, while unceremoniously spreading Pyro's legs and adjusting himself between then, a hand looking for the syrup and butter on the pancakes "that's the love boy deserves".
Pyro could not stop the silent tears when the man pushed his massive erection inside his anus, and quickly started an violent and painful motion inside of him. Even though he knew.
I think it's much more...don't know the right word...degrating? Wrong? Terrible? If he start to really trust a man who raped him, and that very man act like he did nothing wrong. The excuse that he loved the person who ordered him to rape is horrible... i know the fic is yours, and it's just fiction, porn and stuff. But it's my opinion that the direction it's taking is kinda killing the mood (of the non-con porn POV, hehe), and it's more disturbing then if Pyro was just assaulted every 10 seconds.
Please, have in mind i don't want to be disrespectful, it's just my opinion...
Your post made me lol, and I think I should feel bad about that.
I totally have to agree with you about this though; Heavy's excuse for his actions isn't even an excuse. I would hope that he is smart enough to know that, and I hope that EggWhites knows that it's not really an excuse. If this comes into play later, then awesomesauce. If Pyro ever accepts it, then I'll be annoyed, because it's seriously bullshit. He had no choice? Nah. Heavy is an adult man, and a fully capable and independent one at that. He could have chosen not to do what he did.
I am glad to see that some allies are coming out of the woodwork, though. Something tells me that maybe Scout could be another? Pyro definitely could use some real friends on his side, before things get even worse.
Meh, Heavy's excuse is definitely bullshit, but the "I raped you because I wanted to give you pleasure" and "I couldn't disobey him because I love him" lines are very common in this kind of fantasy stories. They pop up all the time in romance novels.
Like the part where he threatened to break Pyro's arm if Pyro tried to resist his rape, but then everybody acted as if Heavy is a nice guy who would never hurt Pyro; the "if you don't fight back I won't beat you up, and if I don't beat you up I'm a nice guy" mentality also pretty common in romance novels.
Spy's excuse is much more baffling.
Pyro: You knew I was going to be raped!
Spy: Yes, but I thought only I and Medic and probably Heavy were going to rape you! I had no idea the other guys would want to rape you too! I feel terrible knowing that 8 men gangraped you when I had planned to have you gangraped by only 3 men!
Even by the standards of romance novels, Spy's excuse is pretty damn WTF.
Thanks, that's what I was going for. I know a lot of transpeople and it helps to feel out Pyro's identity (in my opinion).
I understand what you're saying, and I agree to a certain point. This story isn't really meant to be just jack-off material, I was hoping to take it in a more cerebral direction than simply rape.
No, I agree. Heavy's excuse is complete bullshit. I'm actually really pissed about what he's doing. When I write, the story kind of writes itself if I have the characters developed to a certain point. Most of the individuals are to that point, but not all of them (like Scout, hence why he hasn't really played a part).
I'm really sorry if this is TMI, but I was raped (a long time ago) and one of them gave me the EXACT same excuse as Spy gave to Pyro. Truth can be stranger than fiction, friend.
This story gives me so many mixed feelings but somehow all of those feelings are good?!??!!
This is just so great for so many reasons that are conflicting for me, and every chapter makes me love it more.
What a coincidence... I was raped too. Many times, about four or something.
First, a stranger (don't remember well). Second and third times, by my uncle. And the fourth by a classmate (not a friend, just a guy of my class).
I don't remember well any of the attacks. And the only person who knows is my boyfriend. You guys don't count cuzz no one here knows me, hehe.
Days passed and no one had seen Pyro. Medic was furious, but didn’t speak of it to anyone except Heavy. At dinner one night, they discussed if perhaps she had escaped. Engineer stated that no, she couldn’t have – she was still logging kills. Every day, sometime after dinner, a paper printed out from one of the computers in the respawn room. It contained everyone’s statistics for the day: kills and deaths, streaks, weapons used, ammo consumed, etc. Every day, Pyro’s name had kills associated to it… but never deaths.
Pyro stretched his legs out and yawned. It was almost an hour after dinner. That meant that he’d be able to go pick at the leftovers soon. He had been doing the same thing he had done at Well the day after the first incident. Sneaking around, using his shotgun. He hadn’t even thought about giving Spy his watch back; it allowed him to escape the others. He was able hide from Medic and Heavy. Those two were perpetually looking for him, it seemed. Pyro knew without a doubt that, if he let Medic see him again, it would end very badly.
He hadn’t been to his room since last night, when he needed to check on his salamanders. He fed the little creatures with a slight smile on his face. At least he had them instead of nothing. Every night, he slept somewhere different, with the watch strapped firmly to his wrist. He had discovered that, if he didn’t move too much, he could remain invisible indefinitely.
His kill/death ratio had not gone unnoticed by the administration, either. The second day (he had gotten nearly thirty kills on his own!), a package had come for him. He picked it up when no one else was around. Within it contained an electronic mister, to help keep his salamanders moist. Pyro had set it up the next evening, when he was sure he would not be interrupted.
It was surprising that he hadn’t gotten in trouble for his actions on the battlefield. He knew that they could see him, somehow. If the records that printed out every day were so accurate, that meant that they were being observed somehow. He just had no idea how. None of them did.
He had chosen another conference room as his roost for the night. No one had found him yet. Oh, they’d come looking for him. A few times, they had even found the room he was in. He’d had to be careful to stay calm, breathing silently through his nose as Medic stood in the doorway, or Heavy, or Engineer a few times. That’s why he couldn’t carry any gear when he had the cloak on – he was invisible, but his stuff was not. He generally left his stuff in his room, or sometimes he’d plant it somewhere else as a lure.
He wondered if they knew he had the cloak. There was no way that Spy had told them what had happened. He was much too smart for that. They probably didn’t know, he reckoned. That would make the most sense.
Pyro’s stomach grumbled, impatient, and he finally got to his feet. He listened through the door for a few moments, making sure the hallway was clear, before exiting swiftly. The short man walked to the mess room quietly and slowly. If he moved too fast or bumped into something, the cloak would shimmer. That would easily give him away, and he refused to let that happen.
“There we go.” Sniper’s voice echoed from down the hall and Pyro froze. The mess room was in sight, if he could just get to it…
A familiar sound reached his ears. At first, he couldn’t place it. Rhythmic, solid smacks in a fairly steady pattern. Pyro strained his ears, listening. His gut lurched violently as he realized what he was hearing. No, it couldn’t be…
He took a few careful steps towards the source of the noise: a door a few feet down the hall, left open. Then he heard other, less apparent sounds. Muffled grunting and the noises Sniper made when he fucked.
“He’s still just as tight as ever,” Sniper burred in his rough tone.
“Mmmhm, I bet.” Pyro’s blood froze, only inches from the door. Slowly, he took the last step and poked his head in. He knew he wasn’t going to like whatever could be in that room, but what he saw stunned him for damn near a full minute.
It was one of the extra bedrooms that no one had chosen, with a cot like everyone else’s, a closet, and a dresser. Engineer stood at the head of the bed, overalls unbuckled and hanging around his thighs, his hat and goggles gone. He jerked himself with his right hand, the gunslinger entangled in a chain. A pair of dog tags jingled against the metal with each snap of Sniper’s hips.
Pyro felt his heart stop.
There, on his knees with arms bound behind him with yellow extension cord, his mouth gagged with a strip of cloth, face buried into the sheets, was Scout. Long, sun-darkened fingers held the pale hips tightly as Sniper fucked the youth mercilessly. Scout was silent, or almost so, pearly tears coursing down his cheeks sluggishly.
A rush of bile burned Pyro’s throat and he put a hand to his mouth to prevent himself from throwing up. The hot tang filled his mouth and he forced himself to swallow it back down. If he didn’t, he’d give himself away.
Sniper’s movements were fast and hard, and Pyro could see blood spattering the bed and Scout’s thighs. His heart broke and he knew he had to do something, anything. Before he even realized what was happening, he was down in his room. Grabbing his shotgun. Going back up the stairs. He stopped for a moment and racked his gun; better to do it here where no one would hear it than right outside the door.
He didn’t care that Scout had joined in the first time. He didn’t care about anything except destroying those animals, those sorry excuses for men that Sniper and Engineer were. No one should have to go through that.
Pyro’s pulse pounded in his ears as he regulated his pace. He couldn't be too fast or the cloak would shake. There, he was in front of the door. None of them had moved from their positions. His heart was firmly in his throat and he swallowed as he took aim. He’d have to be quick, if he could get them both… and careful, he didn’t want to hit Scout.
The Australian’s head imploded in a shower of mist with an unholy wall of noise. Not pausing, Pyro racked another shell in and capped Engineer before the Texan could even realize what had happened. Their scarlet-spattered bodies crashed to the floor like bags of rotten meat. Adrenaline replaced Pyro’s blood and he rushed forward, shotgun in one hand as he grabbed Scout.
“Come on, can you walk?” he whispered hurriedly. He hauled the runner to his feet. Scout didn’t seem too fazed that he was being touched by an invisible spirit, and in seconds they were out the door. He had to help Scout keep his balance, but other than that it wasn’t too difficult.
“What was that?” Heavy boomed as he came out of the mess hall. Fuck.
“Scout,” Pyro gasped, “You can run faster than I can.” The younger one shook his head violently and jerked his head forwards. Even without words, Pyro understood.
Together, they ran, the bound Scout and the red flicker that was Pyro.
“Stop!” Heavy yelled. In some kind of slow motion, Pyro heard the shot ring out. A scalding heat, something he hadn’t felt in several days, erupted in his thigh. With a cry, he tumbled to the ground.
“Run!” he gasped to Scout. Another blast and Pyro moaned in pain as he lost feeling in his shoulder. White-hot pain claimed his senses quickly and Pyro cursed as his vision swirled. Please just let him make it. Please God, let him make it.
Without another thought, his mind shut down.
I was holding my breath that last half. So nerve-wracking. I'm excited that Sniper and Engineer got what was coming to them, but there's still Medic to worry about.
That was so fucking beautiful.
Looking for more abused!Scout.
Medic will destroy Pyro now, hehe. I hope they found Scout for the session, so maybe Pyro won't be raped and beat to nearly death so badly.
(I'm here still supporting you, mr.Egg).
I can't decide if I hate this or love it. Hm. Also, is there anyone who would be willing to help me with this story by proof-reading installments for me? It would be appreciated. My email is there for anyone who would like it.
Pyro woke up staring at disgustingly familiar overhead lights. They were bright, so bright that they blinded him, and he groaned. He remembered being shot, but his shoulder and thigh didn’t hurt. He could smell ozone, his nostrils burning from the sharp odor. He must have gone through respawn. Awesome.
Oh God. Scout. Did he get away?
Wait, fuck. He was in the med bay. No, no, not this again.
He forced himself to breathe through his nose, slowly, calmly. Carefully, he pulled at his arms and legs. Nope, he was restrained with the same cuffs as last time.
The door opened and then closed, and he heard the click of boots against the tiled floor. Medic, probably. He kept his eyes closed, trying to fake unconsciousness.
“I know you are avake. Your heart monitor has changed,” Medic said lowly. He came to stand over Pyro, eyes taking in the naked and scarred body strapped to the table.
Pyro said nothing, didn’t even open his eyes.
Medic backhanded him hard. Brown eyes flashed open.
“You vill listen to me and you vill follow my commands,” Medic’s voice reminded Pyro of what snakes sounded like when they spit venom. “Your punishment is going to be horrible enough, no need to make it vorse. You have been a very bad girl, running avay from us. How did you get zhe vatch? Did you steal if off of a BLU spy? Answer me.”
Pyro remained silent. How could more punishment be worse than the torture that was already in store for him?
He heard Medic moving around, and flinched slightly when he felt cold metal close around his forearm. This made him open his eyes. Engineer stood there silently, waiting. He hadn’t even realized that the Texan was there. Fuck.
“Answer me, Pyro. This is your last varning.”
The sound of the bones cracking was almost instantaneous as Engineer closed the gunslinger around Pyro’s arm. It took barely a second for the radius and ulna to snap in half. Pyro’s back arched off the table as he screamed in pain. He panted heavily, staring numbly at the ceiling, feeling tears sting at his eyes. No, he wouldn’t cry already!
“How did you get zhat vatch, Pyro?”
“I… stole it off a BLU spy,” he lied feebly. That would make sense, the watch did have a navy strap after all rather than a scarlet one. He’d just never really thought about it. Why did Spy give it to him? Why did Spy have a BLU watch in the first place?
“Well now it’s destroyed, missy,” Engineer spoke up, “And me and Doc sure are sore at you.”
“You have… no right to do this,” their captive whispered, “Let me go. If you are human at all, you will let me go.”
“Stupid Pyro,” Medic chastised, “How could you have thought zhat zhis vas a good idea? Zhat vorking on a base full of men vould end vell?“ His fingers rubbed over Pyro’s chest, slipped between his legs, pressing into the moist flesh.
“Lil’ missy probably knew it was gonna happen… she wants it.” Pyro closed his eyes and bit his lip, focusing on the pain on his arm.
“You can fuck me all you want, you will never take away my dignity or my manhood,” he hissed through his teeth.
“Oh sweetheart,” Engineer laughed, “You just don’t get it, do you. You will soon enough though, lemme promise ya that.”
“Go get zhe ozhers, Engineer,” Medic instructed. Without another word, the Texan left the room. Pyro fidgeted and yelped in pain. His arm burned, like he was in that house fire all over again. God, it hurt so fucking much!
“I really didn’t zhink you vould fall for it,” the German admitted with a small chuckle, caressing Pyro’s face almost tenderly. “I zhought zhat you vere too smart for it to vork. Apparently not… never underestimate a woman’s stupidity, hm?”
“Fuck you,” Pyro spat and then cried out as Medic hit his broken arm. The skin was beginning to darken black and blue from the abuse. He panted for air, desperately trying to regulate his breathing. Some kind of control, anything.
“If you play nice, perhaps I vill heal your arm before zhe ozhers arrive,” Medic offered the carrot with a smirk on his face. Pyro said nothing, rolling his shoulder and grimacing. It was then that his pain-hazed mind finally processed what Medic had said.
“Wait, what do you mean fall for it?” he asked, voice quiet. The German laughed meanly.
“It vas a genius idea, I must admit,” Medic said, “It vas Sniper’s idea. Ve know zhat you have been picking at zhe leftovers after dinner. Ve’ve been keeping a careful tally on such zhings, to see if ve could capture you. It vasn’t easy getting to Scout, but he can only run for so long… the two of zhem made sure to make a lot of noise so as to attract you. And it vorked!”
Pyro’s face was hot with shame. It had been a fucking trap!
“Ve von’t let you get avay zhis time, little Pyro. You are mine now.” The door opened and Medic looked over and smiled. “Gutentag.”
Pyro felt his throat close up as he saw them. Engineer, Sniper, Soldier, and Heavy entered the room and stood behind Medic. He began to shake his head as Medic undid the restraints.
“No,” he whispered, “Please no.” Pyro sat up slowly, eyes downcast, feeling the men stare at him. God, how his arm throbbed with pain.
“You’re in for a world of hurt, girl,” Engineer drawled, smiling viciously. The gunslinger flexed instinctually with the man’s anticipation.
“If you ask nicely, maybe I vill heal your arm before ve begin.” Medic’s voice echoed around the hard-walled room like a tangible blow to Pyro’s already weak confidence.
He didn’t know what to think. All he knew was that he didn’t want to hurt anymore and he would do damn near anything to achieve that. At the same time, his blood boiled with rage. They could, and would, overpower him with no effort. There was no way he could win this battle. No way in hell.
“Yes?” He stepped closer to Pyro, resting a broad hand on the scarred shoulder. The arm that wasn’t broken. “Vhat vould you like me to do?”
“Pl… please… heal my arm.”
“Please heal my arm, what?” Medic insisted.
“Please heal my arm… sir,” Pyro repeated, his voice
utterly hollow and hopeless.
“Kiss me, and maybe I vill.”
I have no choice. I have no choice. I have no choice.
This is what Pyro chanted in his mind as he leaned forward and allowed Medic’s lips to close over his own. The German kissed him hard, pressing his tongue into the warm mouth, arms stroking the soft neck. He pulled away smiling and reached for the medigun, which was mounted to a harness hanging from the ceiling.
“See, zhat vasn’t so hard, vas it?” he mocked, aiming the red glow at Pyro’s arm. The youth groaned as his bones reknit, the bruises fading, the skin returning to its usual creamy shade. The pain gradually faded and Pyro could feel himself sweating profusely.
“Now. Since you caught her, Sniper and Engineer…” Medic stood back from the table. “I zhink it is only fitting zhat you two start things off, hm?” The two men stepped forward, Sniper wearing that lecherous smile and Engineer clenching his fists in excitement.
Pyro closed his eyes and tried to force himself to fade out. It didn’t work. He felt Sniper’s hands caressing his face, he heard the zip of a fly. Two hands – a steel one and a normal one – grabbed him, hauled him to the end of the table. Pyro desperately wanted to resist as those hands spread his thighs, but he forced himself to stay still.
He heard Engineer unclip his overalls. Sniper’s hand tangled in his hair and he moved closer. His hard shaft bobbed inches from Pyro’s mouth.
“Please,” he whispered. Sniper ignored him, as if he hadn’t spoken, and pressed the head to the full lips.
“C’mon now.” Pyro sucked reflexively as the cock was pushed into his mouth. He closed his eyes tightly and let Sniper fuck his face with long, sure strokes. The Texan slipped two fingers into him, caressing the silken walls, rubbing Pyro’s enlarged clit with the pad of his thumb. Each swipe of his fingers caused the curvy hips to buck involuntarily.
Pyro wished he was dead.
I have no choice. I have no choice. I have no choice.
It didn’t take long for Sniper to come in his mouth. Salty and bitter, almost like getting a mouthful of ocean water after being knocked down by a strong wave. Except it was much worse than that.
Medic soon took Sniper’s place, his thrusts much more shallow than the Australian’s. Pyro choked anyway, feeling like he was going to throw up. His head spun with embarrassment, shame, and some kind of guilt that he couldn’t place.
He dimly recalled Engineer coming with a sudden grunt and a sharp movement. He felt more than heard Heavy take his place. He wasn’t sure how he knew – maybe it was the solid and sure hands, or the slow, steady pace. Pyro couldn’t look up as he bobbed against Medic’s lap mechanically.
Pyro wondered where Scout was, if he had succeeded in his escape. Had Scout been in on the plan, too? No, he couldn’t have been… Medic said they had to catch him. That meant he had run from them. Was that the first time they had raped Scout? Or perhaps Medic had lied to give him a false sense of security. Maybe Scout had been in on it, had let them do that to him to lure Pyro in. Could Scout really be that deceitful? He had no answers to these questions, but tried to busy his mind with them rather than focus on what was being done to his body.
Heavy stroked his belly and lifted his hips, angling him so that the Russian could hit deeper. Pyro moaned around Medic’s cock, practically drooling from having his mouth open for so long. Medic tasted clean but musky, the foreskin soft against Pyro’s lips. With a sudden shock, Pyro’s mind rebelled against the situation.
The youth bit without warning, clamping his teeth down on the hard shaft.
“You little bitch!” Medic yelled, pulling away. Pyro grunted in pain as Medic backhanded him before punching him square in the face. Rolling to his side the best he could with Heavy between his legs (he had never stopped his incessant movements), Pyro vomited onto the floor with a singular heave. Blood trickled from his split lip.
“I zhink we should let your favorite take over, don’t you?” he asked Pyro menacingly, “Perhaps he can teach you the importance of being a good girl, since it seems that I cannot. First, Heavy, you may finish.”
Pyro could see them watching, their eyes still hungering for more. He looked away, scrunched his eyes shut, and rocked his hips against Heavy’s. He was encouraging the man to come. It would be over with quicker that way. With a low moan, the Russian came, filling Pyro to the brim. Heavy pulled out a few moments later, and then he was being thrown to the floor. Pyro crashed to the tiles on his knees, whining as his kneecaps flashed with pain.
He was flipped onto his back, and then a boot planted itself firmly on his ribcage. Soldier. Pyro refused to look up.
“No…” Pyro couldn’t stop himself from whispering the quiet plea. He knew what Soldier meant. The insane American was the roughest of them.
“You shut your whore mouth,” Soldier gritted, and then stomped his foot with all of his might. Everyone in the room heard the resulting crunch of bone, followed by Pyro’s halting sobs. The youth coughed, it hurt to breathe, and misted red spittle all over himself. The broken ribs had punctured his lungs.
“Perhaps if you listen to us, ve von’t have to let him beat you next time,” Medic said, his voice low. Pyro didn’t know what the others were doing. Probably still watching. He didn’t care. Hands clasped over his shoulders and hauled him to his feet. Soldier stared at him, lust coloring azure eyes. In another situation, maybe Pyro would have found those eyes beautiful.
Soldier threw him against the wall and Pyro put his hands up to try and protect himself.
“Please, I’m sorry,” he rasped, wheezing, “I’m sorry, I’ll be good!”
“’Sorry’ isn’t good enough, cupcake,” Soldier replied, his calloused fist connecting solidly with Pyro’s face.
No one spoke as the youngest was beaten, the only sounds in the room being Pyro’s cries and the crack of bone, the ripping of flesh. Soldier took his time, clearly enjoying his unwilling opponent. Speaking was too difficult for Pyro now, with his split lip and blackened eyes, and he lay there like a rag doll as his wrists were broken next, and then his jaw. Pyro’s body was so overwhelmed with agony that he couldn’t even feel anything. He wished that he would pass out soon.
Then he was being bent over the table. His legs were spread, a hand seeking between them. The rough fingers passed over his swollen and dripping pussy, going for his other hole instead.
“No,” Pyro whispered, barely audible, “Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorr-“ He choked on his own words as Soldier impaled him. The man gave no time for Pyro to adjust, nothing, fucking the boy brutally from the get-go.
His body had long since gone on auto-pilot, like he wasn’t even in the room. He could smell his blood, feel it drying on his skin, feel it lubricating Soldier’s relentless thrusts. Every breath was a fight within himself and he tried to focus on the pain in his chest instead of the ever-increasing agony everywhere else.
“Megic, pease,” he heard himself cry, his words jumbled and garbled due to his bleeding lips, swollen tongue and dislocated jaw.
A hand cupped his broken face and the German knelt to kiss his forehead.
“There, there,” he cooed, “You must take your punishment. I promised you a world without pain and you threw it away. If you are a good girl from now on, maybe this won’t happen again.”
“Pease mag him stob. I’ll –“ he gagged, “I’ll be a gooh girr.” His heart broke and, finally, tears welled in his eyes, spilled down his bruised cheeks.
“Promise me that you’ll be a good girl,” the German insisted.
I have no choice. I have no choice. I have no choice.
“I promis… I promis dat I’ll be a gooh girr… Masteh.”
It seemed that those were the words Medic wanted to hear. Soldier disengaged from Pyro’s body, wiping his bloodied cock with the boy’s discarded shirt. The others were dismissed, except for Heavy, who remained at the doctor’s side. The Russian helped Medic position Pyro so that he wouldn’t choke on his own blood. They buckled his wrists and ankles into the restraints again.
“I’m not going to heal you until I am sure that you have learned your lesson,” Medic said lightly, stroking Pyro’s shoulders and back absently.
“Masteh, I hab,” Pyro took a shaky breath, “Pease.”
“You are just saying that to make the pain stop. I vant you to zhink about what has happened here this evening. This and worse avaits you if you ever disobey me again. Do you understand?” Pyro didn’t answer at first. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to speak, his face hurt so much.
“Do. You. Understand.”
“Good girl. Tomorrow morning, if I feel you zhat you are truly regretful, I vill heal you and give you some breakfast. Good night, little girl.”
The words stung almost more than the blows had. Fuck how his body hurt. Medic paused, waiting for Pyro to answer.
“Gooh nighb, Masteh.”
Although I started to follow this fic less tentatively when you said you wanted to make it more cerebral, I must say that I have yet to figure out exactly how you're going to go about that. So far, this fic seems to me to be simply a series of violent encounters, which is all well and good for porn, but not for something cerebral. You said earlier something along the lines of "this is not how rape works in real life but it is how it works in fanfic," yet you also claim to want to make your fic more intelligent, and I'm curious as to how you think you can reconcile these opposing sentiments.
I'm not personally offended by your fic; I've enjoyed non con stories myself. But I would like you to point out the aspects of your fic that you think make "Discovery" more cerebral, because I have tried to pick them out myself and am genuinely baffled as to what they are.
Hey there. Thank you for saying that, I wasn't sure if it was clear enough and now I know. I guess for people who aren't familiar with transsexuals, it is hard to pick out.
I know many transmen, and a few transwomen. There are few things that absolutely destroy a trans-person's self-confidence than being called their gender of birth. Medic's constant referral to Pyro as "little girl" is destroying him inside. Most transmen also refuse to allow anyone to touch their vaginas (or even see them, in many cases). While the rape/torture is hideous enough, the rest of the team is well on their way to destroying Pyro's sense of self and leaving him a shell of his former being.
Not to mention, now that Medic has Pyro back, he has some very devious plans for his "little girl".
I guess I didn't make it clear enough for those who aren't familiar with trans people. When I get down to seriously editing this (after it's finished), I will definitely take what you have said into account. It's just so obvious to me, because I'm so familiar with it, that I didn't feel that I had to explain it. That was my fault, and I apologize.
Or maybe that isn't really cerebral? I definitely think it is, there are few things more cerebral than destroying an individual's sense of self. Maybe I'm wrong.
Please, anyone who cares, don't ever hesitate to make comments like Mimi's. I thrive on criticism!
Thank you for considering my critique.
If I may add, while I've read very sensitive fiction and non-fiction books dealing with the issue of gender identity, I can't help but feel that this fic treats it in a very peripheral, incidental way. Pyro's trans identity is introduced in the first chapter, and then it's barely mentioned again until the most recent update. Most of the fic is instead spent explicitly describing Pyro's gangbang in a way that's meant to titillate readers. I did notice that you used the word "he" for Pyro instead of "she," but it's easy for the impact of the pronoun to get lost beneath all the fisting and slavery.
Frankly, it's really jarring for a fic to try to teach us about trans identity when it's also trying to turn us on with gang rape porn. One's a sensitive social issue grounded in reality, and the other...isn't. You said it yourself that gang rape porn in fanfic is very different from assault in real life.
A truly cerebral fic would handle both trans identity and rape sensitively, instead of exploiting one while barely mentioning the other. To me, reading your fic is like watching an X-rated slasher film try to teach us about global warming.
That being said, I'm glad to hear that you're receiving critiques well. All the chans I've been on before this one have been rather lacking in literacy, so it's good to be in a community with decent writing discussion, let alone basic civility.
Sorry, mr. I didn't give anymore criticism because everything i had to say i already told you...i hate to sound repetitive.
The same thing: loving the rape scenes, loving the pain, loving the lack of soul of the attackers, hoping for more abused Scout...yadda yadda.
Maybe, i would complain that you said you would make a cerebral turn, but i didn't see it...yet. So, i think you still preparing the chapters with more deep tones, or something. That's why i didn't say anything.
Love this fanfic, honestly I say you keep the emphasis on the porn over spending too much time on the pyro's identity. Keep it coming!
This story leaves me with chills, I'm not one to find rape or any form of non-con sexy or... for a lack of better wording fappable, but I'm absolutely enthralled by the story and characterization. One thing that bothers me though, Demo is never seen in the story. I checked and hes only mentioned once. Is this a spoiler or just an accidental hiccup? Not that I would ever stop reading over that, just out of curiosity.
With all due respect, you have no idea how upsetting this piece would be for a transgender reader. Also, as detailed and thoughtful your criticism is, this is the internet. Not just the internet, but a fanfiction for a computer game. It's not meant to be Pulitzer prize winning prose. Perhaps you should take your skills and apply them to the real world - I'm sure you would make a great editor for a publisher or a published author. This isn't meant to be spiteful or angry. More apathetic and possibly slightly amused.
That's not an accidental thing at all. Every other class I can see as possibly being a real person, with real feelings and real thoughts. Demo is constructed in such a way that I just don't feel that with him. Same with Saxton Hale - they are such obvious caricatures that I just can't make them breathe. I mean, come on. He has a severe disability, he has chronic alcoholism, and Jesus Christ he's Scottish black man. It's like Valve went "Well shit, all our characters are pretty average. Let's add some diversity to our classes, but instead of giving everyone something different, let's just make one REALLY fucked up character."
I mean, seriously.
Proof-read by one of our own.
He was woken by his own cries and agonizing pain that flowed through him like a current. Breathing was difficult and he wheezed red spray with each painful exhalation. In his head, he could hear the crunch of his ribs breaking all over again, the sob wrenched from him as his lungs were punctured. No. He didn’t want to think about that.
Pyro’s mouth tasted like old pennies and dirt, his tongue painfully dry and thick. The room was black, and at first he thought he was in a windowless room – but then he realized. His eyes were swollen shut.
Every part of his body felt broken. They had watched him and done nothing. Heavy had watched it happen. The Russian’s words from that distant breakfast made him dizzy. Heavy was so big, so strong! He could have stopped them! He could have at least stopped Soldier. The man that told Pyro those comforting words as the sun rose was not the man who watched, participated even, in his beating, his rape. It didn’t matter how gentle Heavy had been, how thoughtful. It didn’t matter.
‘Do not trust. Do not let the demons win.’
As his mind hazed over, Pyro suddenly realized why he had woken up. He was dying. Soldier had, effectively, beaten him to death.
With one last rattling breath, his heart stopped. For one split second his body panicked. His brain erupted, every synapse firing at once in brutal harmony. His conscious self couldn’t have been bothered; he had died thousands of times.
The small man faded and lost his mind for an indeterminate amount of time. It could have been only a second or ten years as far as Pyro was concerned.
If one were timing it, the process only took about five minutes.
Pyro woke up and breathed a muffled sigh of relief through his mask. The newly-printed off-duty uniform (the outfits changed depending on the time of day) was starchy against his skin. He sat up, clutching his chest as if expecting pain. Of course he was expecting pain. His lungs lit up with a vestigial burn, the feeling of ribs puncturing soft tissue whispering through him as if spoken by a ghost.
But that was over. He would be okay. Somehow this would work out. He could escape and hide again! Frantic eyes looked for the door and then welled with tears. The door was chained shut. He was locked in here. Medic had figured he would die during the night.
Trembling uncontrollably, Pyro held his hands to his face and began to cry. Breathing was difficult in the gasmask, let alone crying, so he pulled it off and cast it to the floor. He didn’t know how long he was lost in his despair, but he suddenly started when arms wrapped around him. Was he hallucinating?
“Do not cry, amour.”
Words. That voice. Pyro knew that voice instantly. His body flinched and he tried to pull away. The arms released him and the man’s cloak shushed as it fell away. Spy stood before him, his face unreadable.
“Please,” the boy whispered, “Please don’t.”
“I am not going to ‘urt you.” Those words again. A red flag sparked in his mind and Pyro narrowed his eyes as his angst dissipated in the fog of anger. He couldn’t fight all of them at once, but he could take one on one. All the restrained rage and humiliation that lurked beneath the surface suddenly frothed from Pyro’s mouth.
“You won’t hurt me, but you’ll stand by and watch them rip me apart like dogs! You took me to them, remember?” Spy’s face did not change and he said nothing. He only watched carefully.
“Why the fuck did you give me a BLU watch?” Pyro spat.
“Pardon? I gave you nothing.” Pyro grunted in annoyance and anger. He didn’t want to play these games.
“Fine. Are you going to fuck me or what? It’s not like you can hurt me any more than Soldier did.” The logical part of Pyro’s mind screamed as the words flecked from his mouth like drops of molten iron. He was practically asking for another beating and, regardless of whether or not Spy was as brutal as Soldier, it would still hurt like a motherfucker.
Spy’s next movements surprised him. The man sat down beside Pyro on the table, hands in his lap, back straight.
“Amour, I said that I was not going to ‘urt you.”
“You can say anything you want, I’m not going to believe you.”
Spy reached into his jacket and withdrew a thin metal case. A cigarette was balanced perfectly in his fingers and the flash of fire seemed to come from his hands rather than from a lighter. Spy took a few polite inhales, blowing the smoke away from Pyro.
“Would you like one?” the Frenchman asked delicately. Pyro turned away from him, huddling into himself.
“I’m not playing your game.”
“Stop.” He could feel his body trembling slightly. Any moment now, he was expecting the greedy hands, the wanting lips. Brown eyes focused on a clock mounted on the wall and Pyro waited. He waited one minute, then two, then five. Then ten. No touches came, no sound except for Spy finishing his cigarette and lighting another.
“Leave me alone,” Pyro finally whispered. A mild tremor shook his body.
“I cannot leave any more than you can. The doors are locked.”
“… you can’t pick a lock?”
“I don’t recall stating whether I could or not.”
“You’re such a prick,” Pyro flinched as his mouth ran straight into dangerous territory without a care in the world. Hands were suddenly touching his back and every muscle turned to stone.
‘Here it comes. Here it comes.’
Long, thin arms enveloped him, brought him close to the warm chest. Pyro stiffened, awkward and afraid in Spy’s grasp. But nothing happened. Spy only held him as he rested his head gently against Pyro’s.
“I will not trust you,” Pyro said quietly, his voice as soft as a wisp of cotton.
“Then do not trust me. Actions speak louder than words.”
Spy was shifting him and he panicked. He resisted at first but then let the Frenchman lay him down. Still standing, the man removed his jacket, gloves, and tie.
‘Here it comes. Here it comes.’
The lithe form stretched on the table beside him, rolled on its side to face him. The jacket was settled over both of them and Spy’s arm wrapped around his waist. Pulled him close.
Pyro’s mind raced, unsure of what to feel or think.
‘Do not trust!’
But the grasp of Spy’s arm around him felt good, comforting. The way his head tucked just so under the Frenchman’s neck. The way his head tucked –
A memory seized him and he remembered. Soldier had gripped him tightly from behind, Spy cradled him from the front. His head was tucked under Spy’s chin. He could hear the soft, constant French being whispered to him. Both men moved together within his body. There was pain, but only from Soldier.
The memory left, replaced by the warmth of another quiet body, taking nothing, only sharing. The wool jacket lightly scratched against his bare arms.
Spy had helped him after all, right? Spy gave him the watch. What did he really have to lose, anyway? Pyro recalled how his wrists had snapped so easily under Soldier’s hands. He didn’t really have anything to lose. They couldn’t kill him. But god how that hurt.
Slowly, after nearly two hours, Spy felt Pyro relax into sleep. He pulled the jacket closer over the two of them and closed his eyes.
‘Do not trust!’
As one, the muscles in his tired body fired. He felt the arms around him, the warmth, and lashed out. The man only gripped him tighter, and caused him to fight harder.
“Please, you are going to fall-“ Spy grunted as knees drove into his gut and he was thrown off the table. Pyro shot up, hands in front of him defensively. His mind slowly caught up with the situation and he bit his lip.
Spy collected himself, coughed into his shoulder, and straightened to his full height. The Frenchman towered like an old willow, both strong and elegant.
“I should have expected that,” he murmured to himself, looking at his watch. It had a scarlet strap. Pyro just stared, waiting. Waiting for what? The man reached for his jacket, which had fallen to the floor.
Pyro said nothing. What was there to say? What could he possibly say that might have even the slimmest chance of changing a goddamn thing? All at once, he felt helpless. He lay back down and rolled on his side, keeping a close eye on the other man.
“I cannot take them all at once,” the click of a lighter punctuated Spy’s sentence, “And for that, I apologize.”
Hot anger churned in Pyro’s chest and he chewed his lip to quiet himself. Pressure, pressure, and he cried as teeth cut into the soft flesh. Blood washed through his mouth.
“Medic sent you! He fucking sent you to come get me, you knew what would happen, you molested me!” The words plummeted from his lips and echoed loudly through the room. With a start, Pyro realized he was trembling so hard his voice was shaking.
“You are right. Medic did send me. I did know what would ‘appen. And because of those facts, there is nothing – absolutely nothing – that I can tell you now that will change your mind. Even if I did tell you the whole story, you would never believe me.”
‘Don’t answer him. That’s just what he wants. Don’t enable him.’ Pyro curled into himself so hard that his spine cracked.
Spy moved with slow, deliberate gestures. He shook his jacket to remove any filth picked up from the floor and stepped towards Pyro. The youth flinched as the jacket was laid over him. Then Spy backed away, moving towards another table in the mostly empty room.
The room. Nine tables, one for each class. Each table was supported by a thick, singular base in the center that glowed softly blue. When a body was respawning, the table in question would hum. Other than those tables and the doors, the room was completely empty.
Spy sat on one of the other tables and then lay down. He turned his back to Pyro.
‘Do not trust. Do not trust. Do not trust.’
Crying quietly, Pyro’s shattered mind chanted itself into the abyss of dreams.
Something is up with Spy. I think BLU spy might be running around somewhere because of that BLU watch, but I can't figure out what he's doing or what his motivations are.
I thought that too! Maybe the BLU Spy was around the RED Base and accidentaly saw all the atrocities the REDs comitted against their poor pyro.
Or maybe he's just disguising himself like some of them to take advantage of the RED pyro, but that's just a stupid fantasy my mind is producing.
This isn't meant to be spiteful or angry. More apathetic and possibly slightly amused.
Actually, EggWhites, that whole comment came off as surprisingly nasty and condescending.
EggWhites, I know that I'm just some crazy Anon, but I earnestly like this story. It really draws the reader in and, as a girl, I can relate with your writings. This is something that I find very uncommon when I read fanfiction, and this is what really makes this story stand out.
You're a brilliant writer and you really keep me on edge with this story- in a good way.
Please continue writing this. It's just so different and outrageous that it must continue. Simply beautiful.
Note: DAMN this is long.
I'm sorry it came off like that, but I mean everything I said. Mimi gives some downright excellent crit. It reminds me of how my writing professors are - eagle eyed and going over everything with the finest of combs. I really think Mimi would make a perfect professional editor. Talent like that shouldn't be wasted (not really wasted, but I can't think of a better term) on fanfics on the internet. Don't get me wrong, I've read some absolutely beautiful fanfics that really blew me away. But when it comes down to the nitty-gritty, it's still a fanfic on the internet. I'm just trying to be realistic.
As for the trans thing. I have a few trans friends and I am also trans myself. I can't speak for other transmen, but I do know that among my friends and myself, pronouns are a huge deal. It's something we can't help. Being referred to as a "good girl" pisses me off beyond belief and makes me upset and ashamed. Not everyone knows I'm trans, so some people still refer to me as a she. I try not to let it bother me, but it's hard. If I were in the situation that Pyro is currently in, I don't think I'd be handling it nearly as well as he is.
This fic started out as being written for something to do, but it's becoming a sort of therapy for me now. One of my greatest fears is that someday I'll be with a group of guys (at work, hanging out, whatever) and they don't know I'm trans but then they find out. It's sad, but I know many transmen who were raped to "put the woman back in them" or some other such nonsense. In a way, this fear has gotten irrational for me and it's getting hard to deal with. Writing this story helps, somehow. I can't explain how or why, but this story is cathartic for me.
I try to be as forward as I can be and as honest as possible. I know some of the shit I say can come off as pissy and condescending, and I apologize for that. I am a very naturally sarcastic person, but misunderstandings are even more frequent over the internet. In any case, I mean everything I say and I'm sorry if I pissed anyone off.
Discovery is such a profoundly well thought out and emotionally potent fic...the developments you have given each one of the the team members always keeps me guessing. Wonderful work, I can't wait for more!
Proofread/edited/enhanced by Pancakes
He woke up like a waterlogged corpse bobbing to the surface. He heard the door rattling. Someone was opening it. Where was Spy? Pyro glanced around but saw nothing, the room was empty. The Frenchman was either disguised or gone. He groaned, his stiff muscles complaining as he sat up on the metal table.
The doors opened and Medic entered the room. The doctor stopped beside the table, analyzing Pyro with stern eyes. The boy lowered his head, uncomfortable and awkward.
“How do you feel? Be honest,” Medic instructed and waited for Pyro to answer. Pyro continued to stare at the floor.
“I will not repeat myself, Mädchen.” That icy edge was creeping back into Medic’s voice. Pyro shuddered, and then gasped as he was backhanded hard enough to throw him off the table. He landed flat on his ass, shocked, and stared up at his persecutor. Medic stood over him like an impenetrable fortress.
“This is your last chance. Answer me.”
“Pl-please don’t hurt me,” Pyro whispered quietly, “I’m sorry.”
“That’s what you said last night, and look at you this morning already. Maybe you need another round with Soldier?”
“No!” The word shot from his mouth unbidden. He couldn’t take any more of that. His wrists ached and his lungs throbbed in a visceral flashback. No, anything but that.
“Get up,” Medic demanded, and Pyro rose to his feet shakily. “Look at me. Good girl. Kiss me.” He drew back a little and turned his head slightly. Medic waited impatiently, then Pyro pushed their lips together clumsily. His trembling kiss seemed to please the German, who set an approving arm around Pyro’s shoulders. The large tongue pressed into his mouth, felt him and tasted him thoroughly before Medic pulled away.
“Yes, there is a good boy,” he murmured lowly, pressing himself tightly against the smaller body. The different pronoun made Pyro stop for a second, brows knitting together unconsciously.
“If you are good, you will receive good things,” Medic whispered to him, hands starting to wander the soft body. Pyro stiffened but forced himself to relax. “Are you hungry, little one?” He realized that yes, he was hungry. His belly felt hollow and sour. Pyro nodded.
“I will let you go eat with Heavy then… after I am done with you and only if you are good. Do you understand?”
Pyro’s heart went cold and he nodded again. Quickly, Medic’s lips set up his, kissing him hungrily. The tongue in his mouth did nothing to distract him from the hands wriggling under his clothes, pulling his trousers down, pushing between his legs. Medic broke the kiss sharply.
“You are going to ride me,” he whispered to his charge as he stroked the shaggy hair. Pyro stopped breathing and set his hands on Medic’s wrists.
“No,” he whispered, “Master-”
“You will or I will not feed you today.”
His stomach cried loudly. He was so hungry. But was he hungry enough to… to do that? Being on top, it was almost like willingly participating. He could never help this monster rape him. He wouldn’t take part in it.
“No.” Pyro shook his head, feeling tears prick at his eyes. His empty belly gurgled and churned in on itself.
“Fine then,” Medic pulled away from him abruptly and straightened his tie, “I will return later to collect you for battle.” The German started towards the door and opened it –
“Wait,” the boy whispered, “Wait. I will. Master, I-I will.” Medic turned back towards him, eyebrows raised almost comically.
“Are you sure? Or are we going to change our mind again? I’m getting quite tired of your games, Mädchen.” His voice was quietly lethal; Pyro had no doubt the man was at the end of his patience.
If he kept pushing, Medic’s tolerance was going to snap. There wasn’t much left for the doctor to take. Pyro wondered what could be worse than Soldier. He decided he didn’t want to know.
“I won’t change my mind. I will do what you want.”
Medic came to him again. “You will initiate it and you will ride me. Do you understand?”
He thought of food. The dry pancakes and sickly sweet syrup, the hard cereal, the stale toast and bitter coffee. As gross as it was, there was nothing else in the world he wanted more. So he pressed his lips to Medic’s, kissed him as if the German were edible. Shame seared in the back of his mind but hunger overrode everything else. Small hands rubbed and stroked, traveling up and down Medic’s body.
‘Pretend it’s someone else. A handsome stranger from the bar.’
His creative mind quickly stripped reality away. The muscles under Pyro’s fingers were firm and hard, forged from months of keeping up with the team while wearing a thirty kilogram pack. Instead, he pretended those muscles were from something else, maybe tough physical labor or long days on the farm.
Keeping his eyes firmly shut, Pyro pressed back against the doctor’s touches. A hand slid between his legs, found his clit and stroked it gently. Pyro cried out in genuine pleasure and rocked himself against Medic’s fingers, his own hands worming up under the doctor’s white button up. The flesh was hot and supple, the body hair coarse under his fingers.
Medic stripped Pyro quickly and lowered his own pants to his thighs. He sat up on the table and brought Pyro on top of him, encouraging the boy to straddle his waist as he lay down.
Throbbing heat pulsed against Pyro’s bare crotch. He could feel how wet he was, feel it trickling slowly out of his body. His mind ticked on, playing its own version all the while.
“Go on, Mädchen,” the doctor encouraged breathily, “Fuck yourself on me.”
Pyro flinched at the sound of Medic’s voice and hesitated as he lifted himself. One scarred hand found the straining cock and held it in position. It was so hard. Pyro felt sick for a moment. The man’s voice had broken the illusion.
“Now, before I lose my patience.”
Closing his eyes, Pyro met Medic’s body and sank down. His body stretched around the invasive length and he whispered wordless breaths as he settled himself. Medic filled him relentlessly and Pyro hesitated again before he moved. Just barely a split second, almost unnoticeable, but the doctor was ever aware.
“Hesitate again and I will feed you nothing.”
Strong hands grabbed his hips and started to thrust him up and down. The erection straining inside of him shifted and pressed at the slick walls, moving effortlessly in the tight flesh. It felt good, and warm pleasure fingered through his body. Yes, he could pretend. Maybe the man inside of him was a stranger, or a drunken friend, or any one of the other lovers Pyro had had over the years.
His mind chose an old coworker – they had done construction together. Brian had had a body very similar to Medic’s: large, broad and tight, with a deep chest. Their faces were completely different, but Pyro didn’t need that. He focused on the darkness of his eyelids. He was fucking Brian again.
And oh, it felt wonderful. The firm and calloused hands gripped his hips hard enough to bruise, rocking him onto that hardness. Pyro pressed his body against Medic desperately, panting and gasping with effort as he moved.
‘Brian, oh god.’
The German moaned beneath him, “Beg me.” Again, the mirage shuddered and threatened to collapse.
“Please,” Pyro cried, frantic to maintain his delusion, “Fuck me, fuck me hard.”
“Yes, good boy! Tell me how much you want to come on my cock.” No. No. His arousal vanished, replaced with fear and hunger. No. No he couldn’t. The words were bitter in his mouth and refused to pass his lips.
‘Say it, just say it!’
“Master,” he choked, “I-I want to… c-come all over your cock.” His face scorched with humiliation.
“Yes. Good boy.” Medic forced him to move faster and Pyro sobbed as he felt climax rushing towards him again. How?
“There there, little one,” Medic purred, then moaned as he spilled over the edge and into Pyro’s body.
The boy refused to cry and sighed as his orgasm withdrew as fast as it had approached. His whole body went limp and empty; he had been very close to coming. Pyro felt drained. He remained silent and watched Medic. The German gathered himself and smiled at the younger man.
“Good boy, you did very well. It is a shame that you didn’t come, but we will work on that later. Get up and I will get you some breakfast.”
Pyro complied dully, rising to his feet and dressing. Medic smoothed his clothes and buckled his belt. The German offered Pyro his hand. The boy stared, accepted it and let Medic lead to the mess.
They would all see him. They would all see him like this, like a little dog or a servant. A slave. He tried to twist his hand away from Medic’s and made a noise of pain as the larger fingers clamped hard over his.
“Master,” he whispered.
“Yes?” Medic didn’t look at him.
“I-I won’t run away.” He wasn’t dignified with an answer as they turned into the dining area. Engineer, Soldier and Heavy were in the room already eating. The clock read 0724. Pyro stared at the floor, unable to lift his eyes as Medic sat him at the table. The doctor gathered two plates and returned, placing one in front of Pyro.
Two pancakes, plain, and a large apple.
“Eat, Mädchen,” he said as he took a seat beside Pyro.
His mouth was as dry as death valley, his tongue scraping against porcelain teeth. Shaking fingers took the fork and cut a small piece, lifted it to his lips. It felt like chewing sand and tasted like nothing.
Medic offered him a glass of water, which he took and drank greedily. Unable to stop himself, the cool fluid gushed down his throat and into every part of him. The agonizing desert in his mouth was washed away in a tumultuous flood and suddenly he gagged. Spitting and coughing, he put the glass down. Medic thumped his back and Pyro breathed shakily.
“There, do not drink so fast. You will make yourself sick,” he chastised, “Now eat your breakfast.”
Eyes never leaving the table, Pyro ate. As silent as he was on the inside, within his mind roiled; where was Scout? No one had said anything about the runner, and it worried him. He wondered if Scout had managed to escape, if Scout had been in on the plan or not.
A moment of time played in Pyro’s mind like a movie. Scout had been bound tightly, so tightly it was cutting off his circulation, the skin around the taut cord as white as paper. The red, red blood spattered over the thin thighs and Sniper’s hips. Scout’s face had been turned towards the door and Pyro could see the silver tears raining from sky-blue eyes.
It sure as hell hadn’t looked like Scout was acting. Those tears had been real.
Pyro took another gulp of water. There was no way Scout had been in on the plan. He hoped. Maybe he was biased, maybe he just wanted a source of comfort, an ally, so badly that his mind was making up excuses.
Scout had been the only one to say anything even remotely negative the first time they had raped him. Pyro could remember the pitched voice, screechy with surprise and... panic.
“Hey, so what’s going on in here- uh what the fuck?”
That had been fear in Scout’s voice, not just mere shock. It had to have been. But why? Why would Scout have been afraid?
“Pyro?” He fell back to himself as Medic shook him. He had apparently finished eating, the pancakes gone and the apple nothing more than a strip of fleshless core. He rose automatically and followed Medic, surprised when the older man led them into the basement.
“Get your things.”
Pyro went into his room, glancing at his salamander tank. Their electronic mister was empty and they were probably hungry. They hadn’t been fed in a few days. He desperately wanted to tend to the little creatures.
“Go ahead,” Medic nodded, as if reading Pyro’s mind, “In fact, I believe there is a package for you on your desk.” So there was. It was a plain, unmarked brown box, with no postage. ‘Strange.’ Pyro opened it slowly, and lifted the glass canister from within the padded box.
“Freeze dried mealworms and other insects for them,” the German said. Pyro turned to him, confused. “Now you do not have to go outside to find food for them.”
“Why?” It was all Pyro could think of to say.
“I can give and I can take away. This is the best way for you to understand that.” The boy only nodded and set the jar down. He unhooked the mister and took it to be filled. Medic waited for him in the small room, standing by the door with hands clasped patiently.
Pyro filled the reservoir and shook some of the new food into the tank. The slim black creatures converged on the pile of insects, eating them eagerly. Bright yellow spots like miniature suns adorned each salamander’s back. For the first time in a week or so, Pyro felt calm. Everything would be okay.
“Now dress and get your weapons. We don’t have much time.”
Pyro watched Scout, thankful for the mask’s dark lenses. Scout was quiet and looked like he hadn’t slept well. Pyro’s heart hurt for the youngest and he wished he could say something. Medic would doubtlessly get pissed about it though and Pyro didn’t want to incur his wrath again anytime soon.
And Spy. Also quiet, but that wasn’t unusual, hanging behind them and chain-smoking. He didn’t look at Pyro as he loaded his revolver and slipped it into a shoulder holster.
The nine of them filed into the main teleporter room in the center of the base. This main base was out in the middle of nowhere, in a temperate forest surrounded by an impenetrable and literal wall of security. The teleporters took them to whatever area they were fighting in that day. Sometimes it was the same place for days or weeks on end and sometimes it changed every day. They’d been sent to Well a lot lately. Pyro wondered if that’s where they were headed.
He stood on the whirling pad of light and closed his eyes as his guts shifted into another dimension. Paralyzing fear crippled him for a few moments and then he was on his feet again.
The teleporters always took them to a home room of sorts on the “map”, a basic affair with a respawn off to the side and a voluminous supply cabinet. Most of the time the room had one small window to let them know where they were, but this was one of the more individual rooms. A huge bullet-proof sheet of plate glass glinted before them, a staircase going downstairs to the right.
Pyro both hated and loved Nucleus. The close quarters made it easy for him to fire up his targets, but much harder to sneak up on them. There were only so many hiding places there, after all. At least he’d get to air blast someone into the center pit. A small smile crossed his face.
“Pyro,” Medic’s voice echoed in the concrete room. With his mask on, Pyro felt more confident about himself as he looked towards the doctor. His thrower was a comforting weight in his arms, and his shotgun and ax were strapped securely to his back. He was going to kick some serious ass.
“You are going to circulate between Engineer, Sniper and Heavy. I want you to focus on defending them. You are not to go on offense unless instructed.” Pyro’s face fell. While he would usually check in occasionally on Sniper and Engineer, he had never been tied to them. He was much better at offense and being mostly on his own.
“Do you understand?”
The sirens went off and they flowed into the map. Pyro reluctantly hung around Engineer, defending the Texan as he set up his gear. Reflexively, Pyro shot at anyone who came near them, RED or BLU. Twice he caught the BLU spy, not nearly as talented as their own, and managed to kill him once.
“Go check on Snipes, Ah got this fer now,” Engineer commanded gruffly and Pyro left him gratefully. He hated Engineer so much, although it wasn’t like Sniper would be any better. As far as Pyro was concerned, the two of them could fall into the center pit and never come back.
He found the gruff Australian hiding out in one of the control rooms along the side of the map. The Announcer’s voice rang through the room as RED captured the point.
“I know you’re there,” Sniper grunted, “Y’always snuffle with that mask on.” He turned to face Pyro, setting his gun aside. He smiled wickedly.
Wait, no. Sniper couldn’t do this in battle. He wouldn’t do this in battle.
Quickly Pyro pivoted and raced down the stairs. The Australian cursed but didn’t seem to follow. Breathing heavily through the thick rubber, Pyro went looking for Medic. He didn’t want to be near Sniper.
A sudden sharp pain exploded in his back. ‘Guess that wasn’t Sniper at all.’
“You should be more careful next time, amour,” the BLU spy hissed in his ear. Pyro groaned as his vision faded and he fell into oblivion.
Wait. The watch had had a navy strap.
‘I need to focus on the battle.’ He couldn’t dwell on possible implications right now. He had to stay alive, he could think later. Pyro got up off the table and snatched up his shotgun, then headed down the stairs to the right. He had taken five steps out of the base when he heard Medic’s voice.
“Pyro! What are you doing?” He turned around to face the doctor. Medic was standing at the top of the staircase outside of the base, focused on healing someone that Pyro couldn’t see.
“Lkmn fhr yoo.”
“Come on then.”
He followed the devil out onto the battlefield.
Pyro followed Medic back to his quarters, slouching in the hot suit. It was as sweaty and uncomfortable as ever and he desperately wanted a shower. A small part of him didn’t even care if he was naked in front of Medic… a very small part.
The doctor set his weapons on a table in his office and beckoned Pyro to come to him.
“Help me unhook my pack and then we will go bathe.”
Pyro blinked underneath his mask, but said nothing. We? He helped lift the heavy pack from Medic’s back and then set his own weapons down at Medic’s behest.
“Come along,” Medic went to exit the doors, but Pyro didn’t follow. The German raised an eyebrow.
“Now what is wrong?” he asked, “You did so well this morning, Pyro.” He crossed his arms. Pyro just stared at the floor. ‘I don’t want to shower with all of them.’
“I dnmt wnmt to fhwer wff-“
“Take the mask off,” Medic interrupted rudely. Pyro stopped, and then slid his fingers under the rubber and bared his face. He turned his face away, but strong fingers grabbed his chin, forced him to look at the wretched doctor.
“I-I don’t want to shower w-with them,” the boy trembled just slightly, almost unnoticeable. Medic rolled his eyes.
“You’re better than this, little one. Do you want to be punished, is that it?” the doctor’s face split in a sadistic grin as Pyro shook his head minutely, “Then you will shut up and do as I say. I really don’t want to have to hurt you again already.”
Pyro sighed and followed Medic out of the room. Down the hall. Into the locker room, already filling with steam. Medic went to his shower cubby and began to undress, watching Pyro attempt to shrink into the wall. He gestured to the empty cubby that would have been Pyro’s if the boy lived upstairs.
Pyro glanced at the main shower area and wanted to throw up. There were a few individual stalls but it appeared that they were rarely used.
“Hello doctor,” Heavy greeted, eyes on the boy. Sniper was a few feet behind him, showering next to Engineer. Soldier stood on the right, naked back to the others.
With numb fingers, Pyro undid the fastenings on the heavy suit. He shrugged off the suspenders holding up the bottom part. He stripped off the white tshirt, his boots, his socks, and then stopped. Naked save for a pair of red boxer briefs.
“Pyro.” Medic’s voice came from right behind him, brushing against his ear. Closing his eyes, he pulled the briefs down and off. His cheeks flamed and Medic led him to a showerhead, gave him soap. No one said a word for a few minutes until normal chatter began to resume.
Pyro remained tense, listening to the roar of the steam. A warmth pressed to his back.
“Little зайчик,” Heavy murmured, pulling the soapy body to his chest. Pyro fought for a second, pushing back, but then saw Medic’s face and stilled. The German watched, silent, face drawn in a scowl. Heavy covered Pyro’s mouth with his own and kissed the boy softly, tenderly.
Pyro closed his eyes. ‘Just pretend. Just pretend.’ His body shivered uncontrollably and he tried to forget the forest of eyes upon him. He kissed Heavy back slowly, trying to convince his body to relax in the Russian’s grip. Those large hands roamed his body, traced his scars, pinched his nipples, all while Heavy kissed him absolutely senseless.
He panted for air when Heavy finally released his lips, then began to suck along his jaw and neck. Hands settled on Pyro’s hips.
“Ah!” The cry came unbidden from his mouth as sure fingers ducked between his legs. He curled against Heavy’s broad chest, trembling as the Russian stroked at his clit.
“Good boy,” Medic purred.
Heavy began to mutter, syllables clip-clopping from his mouth onto the cobblestones of Pyro’s ears. Pyro had no idea what he was saying, but it didn’t really matter. Heavy had rendered the boy’s mind quiet.
Instead, he pressed his hips against Heavy’s hand, encouraging the touches. Words rained from his lips, pleading and whimpering like a cat in heat. Then Heavy shifted, and the hand drew away, taking Pyro’s carefully crafted illusion with it.
The Russian sank to his knees and spread Pyro’s pale thighs.
Confused, Pyro’s eyes shot open. He saw Medic staring from the lockers, already clean and dressed. Simply observing. His gut quaked. The others were watching just as intently. Sniper was wrapped in his own hand, groaning quietly. Soldier and Engineer just simply bore witness, for now.
Heavy’s tongue licked against his flesh and Pyro flinched.
“Wait-“ he cried out as Heavy began to lap at his hardening clit, small hands settling on the broad shoulders. Each brush of Heavy’s inquisitive tongue brought forth strong shudders. Pyro clutched at the Russian with unsure hands.
“Y’gonna come for us?” Sniper hissed in his ear. The ropey body ground against his side. Pyro couldn’t answer, gasping with confusion, horror, and a guilt-laced pleasure. Heavy’s mouth moved tirelessly over him, all soft lips and hungry tongue as they devoured the tender flesh. That broad muscle slid into him, teasing, before suckling at the enlarged nub.
His body jerked involuntarily with every press of Heavy’s mouth. It felt so good, but he hated these men so goddamn much! He could feel the hot pressure building inside of his body and tried to fight it with his inherent disgust. He wasn’t strong enough.
With a shrill cry, Pyro came against Heavy’s mouth, fluids flooding from him in a hateful exodus. His whole body drew as tight as a bowstring and he stayed like that for a few trembling moments. One last sob came from his lungs and his body melted.
“Good boy, good зайчик,” Heavy cooed to him, standing and cradling him. Sniper watched them eagerly.
“You are not to touch her tonight, Herr Sniper,” Medic called. The Australian snorted. “She has been good and does not deserve your rough treatment.” Pyro couldn’t help but feel sort of comforted, somehow. As Heavy guided him to Medic, the doctor wrapped him securely in a towel.
Maybe Medic was right. Complying was so much easier. Complying had saved him from a night with Sniper.
Pyro let Medic tenderly dress him, and then followed the doctor to the office. Medic did not hold his hand this time, allowing Pyro to walk at his side much like a dog would heel. What kind of person permitted their dignity to be taken like this? ‘I have no choice.’
Heavy had disappeared, probably to clean his guns. It was a ritual he did every night after battle. Shower, clean guns, shower again, dinner, amuse himself for a few hours, sleep. Usually he was with Medic for a significant portion of this time. If not with the German, he was either alone or with Demo in the common room.
The doctor opened his office door and sat at his desk. He had to take the statistics that the respawn computers spit out every day and keep a careful monitor on everyone’s various temperatures, pulse rates, blood pressure, weight, et cetera. This was done in case the technology began to fail. Sometimes the machine would cause mutations in their genes or limbs; when this happened, respawn had to be shut down and recalibrated (usually by Engineer). It was Medic’s job to be aware for any inconsistencies.
“You may go down to your room,” Medic said as he straightened a pile of papers. “You will accompany me for dinner at 1800.” The boy nodded.
“Yes, sir.” The German smiled widely and kissed Pyro’s cheek.
“See, you can be such a good boy. Now go, feed your reptiles.” Pyro didn’t need a second invitation and left the room. He had to admit, he felt okay.
‘Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.’ He smiled bitterly to himself as he trotted down the stairs to his room. His door was unlocked (as usual, it could only be locked from the inside) and he switched on the light. Harsh fluorescent lighting assaulted the room and Pyro blinked a few times. He took care of his salamanders and went to the laundry room to retrieve his clean clothing. Dirty uniforms and such were thrown down the chute and then reappeared the next morning, clean and folded, on a table in a room near Pyro’s.
The boy settled on his bed eventually, kicking his boots off and picking up the book he was currently reading. Of course the base had a library; it wasn’t anything special but it was good enough for Pyro. He’d guess the small room contained maybe five hundred books or so. It would take him a long time to read all of that.
He was quiet for a long time as he read, keeping a constant eye on the clock.
Pyro jolted when there was a knock at the door. Three curt taps. He knew that knock. Did he lock the door? Surely he did, but he couldn’t remember. The boy got to his feet and waited.
“I know you are in there.” Pyro froze.
keep writing, this is great!
Oh EggWhites, I love this whole thing.
The emotion is so very real and much of what you have depicted is painfully accurate. It gives me chills, and I love you for it.
Also, I love how vile your Medic is. I'm used to writing my own fluffy Medic that reading yours is such a delicious foil.
I am ridiculously giddy every time this updates. Never stop.
This chapter of yours makes me wonder...specifically, the scene where Pyro looks at Scout at the battlefield...how it is to look - and talk, interact, etc - to a person who passed through the same kind of gruesome situation that you did? I mean, not a regular type of bad situation (like losing a lot of money, or something, for example), but a really horrible one, like this.
I never talked to anyone who was raped and was aware that i knew...everything. I wonder how it is. I guess it's a awkward situation, where i don't know what to talk about, and i just feel weird...and so does the person. It must be a bad feeling, like a forced intimacy, an i-read-your-diary-by-mistake-sorry type of sensation from both parts. Anyway, i don't think it would be a good thing, that type of deep recognition and connection between the two of us that would overcome any mean little difference and we would just feel good about it...not at all.
Well, it's just reflection. This comment isn't a criticism or a request of some dilemma that i would ask you to explore in your story, Mr. egg. It's just a though of a insignificant reader. Hope ya don't mind...
Pyro's salamanders being in included more and more in the story worries me. I don't want anything bad happening to them.
THIS IS ONE OF THE MOST SATISFYING ADULT TF2 FANFICS I HAVE EVER READ!
(Took me 3 hours so far, but it's well worth it!)
This is seriously spot on with my likings and turn ons...
Pyros tomboy-ishness, her scars, her attitude and then final submission, Medics behaviour.. UNNFFF.. I love da kisses...
Heavy's gentleness.. Mmm.. did I mention the caressing of scars? UNF.
Everything. Everything is beautiful..
And I even enjoyed the little cuddle session with Spy and Pyro. Juicy as well.
Question, so if Pro is a girl, why do you still refer to her as a guy?(Gettin' pretty underaged b& in here)
I do agree that this is a glorious story, but you got my hopes up in thinking it was updated. Please sage.
Pyro is referred-to as a boy because Pyro thinks he's a boy, even though he's a girl.
Pyro is referred to as a boy because he IS a boy. He's transgender. being born with a vagina doesn't mean you're a girl. Notice how the others refer to him as a girl to insult him, and medic refers to him as a boy to reward him.
Thank you for the compliment, EggWhite. Although I don't take back what I said, I should have sensed on some conscious level that this fic is cathartic for you. I didn't intend to say that your fanfic should be "deeper" if you don't want it to be. I just have a habit with pornography that whenever I see adult fics described as "deep" or "cerebral," I read them to see if they really are literary and wind up disappointed if they're not, fanfic or otherwise. Don't laugh; I think like this because most people who read Alan Moore's "Lost Girls" consider it to be art even though it's very explicit pornography, so I keep searching for stories like it.
I guess the other reason why I didn't find Medic and co's transphobia all that cerebral is because...they're rapists. The fact that they don't care about basic sexual boundaries means they wouldn't care about basic sex identity. I'd honestly be more surprised if there were that many straight male rapists who believed in trans awareness or equality. Basically, I didn't find it cerebral because I found it obvious. But if writing this fic is good for you, then all the power to it.
>>46 and >>47
I really don't want to come across as rude, but the fact that you didn't realize that Pyro IS a boy after the author explicitly said so several times makes you look...very bigoted and transphobic. Not to mention illiterate. You have completely missed the entire point of the story.
When I was her age, I used to be confused by the whole concept too.
Okay, the >>46 user just lost all the point of the fic by don't get that Pyro is a transgender, therefore she totally had an incomplete experience while reading the fic(which slightly focus in fears and risks transgender people unfortunately suffer).
But call her a transphobic just because she made a stupid mistake is really precipitated, don't you think? I really don't think she wanted to be prejudiced against anyone around here...just because she was confused about the whole story.
Now, for the >>47...well, there's a chance he used the wrong words, or he's confused not by the story, but by the conception of transgenderness...but he really sounded transphobic. I hope he wants to explain something about what he said.
I want to be mad, but I can't. I want to be upset, but I can't. For straight cis-people, it's a hard concept to grasp. When I was younger, I actually had trouble with it also.
Sometimes people don't feel like the sex they are born in. Our society integrates sex and gender to the point where most people simply accept it as one and the same. I understand that it's hard to break out of that mindset, but I encourage both of you to do so.
I will say one thing. In the very first chapter, Pyro is explicitly described as a transsexual. Doesn't get much clearer than that.
That makes a lot of sense. I apologize for such an error on my part. I feel like a dick for kind of just... assuming that readers automatically know how I feel. That's an unfair thing to assume because there is pretty much no way for you guys to know.
Hi there, I'm post >>47. I totally didn't mean to come across as transphobic or anything, and I completely understand why I made myself look like an ignorant fool. I honestly am quite uninformed about transgender, and I wanted to TRY to explain to >>46 about why the author was calling Pyro a boy, but apparently I failed.
Sorry, guys. I'll try to learn something. Didn't mean to come across as rude.
And- I'm actually a girl. Just a very misinformed girl who thought the world was simple. Again- sorry. One of my friends is transgender, so I'll ask her to teach me about it to prevent such ignorance in the future.
Wow, i'm pleasantly surprised now... i never thought you would really come back to actually explain yourself. I would smile to ya "internetcaly", but it's not allowed around here, hehe.
(if i saged wrongly...i'm sorry)
'sage' goes in the email box, not the name box. No worries though.
This story horrifies me in ways I cannot stop thinking about. It is completely useless as porn to me, save for the first part before it delved more into Pyro's character and made him way too sympathetic for me to get any pleasure out of reading him be tortured. Now I can't wait for the next update to see what happens next. I hope he eventually gets a happy ending, or at least the others get some sort of punishment for being absolute monsters. Every time they deliberately call him a girl or force him to say that he's a girl kills me, and I nearly cried several times just reading this. I really hope something good happens to Pryo soon. And not just "they don't beat and rape him TOO much".
next installment should be coming soon, finished proofreading and sent it back. The next installment has got to be my favorite so far.
Can't wait for the next instalment!
Please type sage into the email field, that way it does not bump the thread and make it look like there's a new post from the OP.
I am pretty sure most of us can't wait either but we are waiting patiently for it. It sucks on ice when you think the story you're into gets bumped but you end up finding that it's just someone who forgot to sage their post.
Proofread/edited/enhanced by Pancakes.
He wasn't sure what to say or do. Now that he was standing, he could see that the door was unlocked. Fuck. But Spy couldn’t hurt him, right? He’d just tell Medic. In any case, he was slightly more concerned with why Spy kept seeking him out.
The door didn’t open. Pyro didn’t breathe.
“I’m not going to open the door. Please let me in. I won’t hurt you.”
“Why should I trust you?” The question was a whisper, clearly too quiet for Spy to hear. The two of them said nothing for another minute.
“Please let me in. I want to talk to you.”
“About what? About how you are no less a monster than they are?” Pyro was shocked to hear the words come from his mouth, loud and angry. There was a short pause.
“I’m not going away.”
Pyro sighed, exasperated. He looked over his room for something to use to defend himself if needed; all of his actual weapons were up in Medic’s quarters. He took a heavy glass candle off of his desk, holding it tightly. Spy couldn’t hurt him or else Medic would have the Frenchman’s ass on a spit. Hopefully.
“Fine. Come in. Don’t touch me.” He backed up into the corner farthest from the entrance. The knob turned and Spy entered the room quietly and shut the door.
“Should I lock it?” the thin man asked. His hands were in front of him, open palms turned towards Pyro.
Pyro didn’t answer.
“I’m not the monster you think I am,” Spy began, “You have to believe me. I know things don’t seem right, and that is because they… they aren’t.”
The smaller man was suspicious. Why was Spy acting like this again?
Wait. He had almost forgotten, caught up in his own misery as he had been. The navy strap on the watch. Amour. Could this be the BLU spy?
“Who are you?” The words were short.
“I can’t tell you that now.”
“Get out. If you’re going to play these fucking games, you can leave right now. I don’t have time for this.” Pyro held the candle tightly in his fist, the glass cool and reassuring under his fingers.
“I can’t help you if you know,” the Spy’s voice was genuinely sad and it shocked Pyro so much that he went silent. “I wish you hadn’t shot me, but I understand why you did.” Spy didn’t come any closer to Pyro, maintaining his own separate space by the door.
“What do you want?” The boy’s voice was strained, unsure of what to do.
“You shouldn't have used the cloak to rescue Scout,” Spy said, his voice flat, “Although you would probably like to know that he was really grateful.”
Pyro raised an eyebrow, “How would you know how Scout feels?” The man shrugged in response.
“A spy never reveals his secrets.” At this, Pyro rolled his eyes. ‘How cliché.’
“I am trying to figure out a way for you to escape,” Spy continued, “How long was your contract for?”
“You don’t already know? Some Spy,” Pyro mocked, his anxiety beginning to dissipate slightly. Irritation took its stead. Why was Spy acting so damn weird?
At the same time… if this was the BLU spy, then it would make sense that he didn’t know Pyro’s contract time. Then how would he know that Pyro had rescued Scout using the cloak? Another thought plucked at his mind next, this one a dark smear across his tired brain. What if this was Spy, their Spy, just playing mind games? Could Spy be that deceptive and heartless? Stupid question.
‘Do not trust.’ Pyro’s eyes narrowed.
“Get out,” he hissed, “Your words mean nothing to me.”
The Frenchman shook his head and left without another word. Pyro raised his eyebrows; that had been too easy.
He turned his attention to the clock. It was 1750; he had to go find Medic and go to dinner. Checking over his precious salamanders one last time, he turned off the light and went upstairs. The halls were empty and he knocked on Medic’s door. Should he just go in? He wasn’t sure.
The door opened and the German within smiled warmly. “Ah, Pyro. You aren’t going to hide from me this time, very good.” A large hand patted Pyro’s head, then entwined the small fingers in his own and squeezed gently. “Come along then.” Medic released his hand and headed towards the mess. Pyro followed obediently, looking at the floor.
He would never get over the shame, would he? Medic never let him wear his mask, and it made Pyro feel even more vulnerable than usual. He was naked, literally, for all of the rest of their hideous team to gawk at and to prod.
Almost everyone was in the mess, with the exception of Spy (a fairly normal occurrence to begin with) and Scout. Now that he thought about it, Pyro hadn’t seen Scout at all outside of battle, not since he saved the rabbit. Pyro’s heart fell lower than it already was. Scout didn’t deserve that. No one deserved that.
Even if Scout was annoying as hell, and brash and loud and obnoxious. He was still kind of funny sometimes, and generally wasn’t very malicious. Just a classic case of false bravado. What would rape do to such a person? Had they beaten him too?
Medic sat Pyro at the table and brought him a plate of food. Apparently this was how meal time would be from now on. It was burger night and he stared at the food allowed to him. Medic had given him one burger that looked plain, a pat of baked beans, and a small cup of coleslaw.
Heavy snorted at something Sniper said, bringing Pyro’s attention suddenly to the men around him. Sniper and Heavy seemed to be embroiled in a heated discussion of the recent world war as Engineer watched quietly from the sidelines. Engineer played mediator to almost every argument that ever arose.
Despite being German (or perhaps because of), Medic always ignored these conversations and outright refused to participate in them. Instead, the doctor sat beside Pyro, eating politely, and kept an eye on the scarred boy.
“Churchill was a fool,” Heavy declared. Usually Soldier would have burst in by now, but he was too busy frothing spittle at Demo to hear the Russian. Arguments between him and the Scot were frequent and nasty, and it was rare when anyone would risk their lives to intervene. Even Engineer.
An arm rested around Pyro’s shoulders, bringing him closer to Medic. The boy tried not to stiffen too much and continued eating as if nothing had happened.
Demo suddenly got up in a huff and left the room, an indecipherable haze of curse words trailing in his wake. Soldier bolted after him and the shuffling left Heavy and Sniper quiet for a moment.
Pyro ate and said nothing, praying for dinner to be over. Soon enough, Medic took his arm and led him back to the doctor’s quarters. He could finally relax, away from their prying eyes.
“Hey, Doc,” Engineer caught them just as they got to the door. The German smiled warmly.
“Hello, Engineer. Can I help you?” Pyro stood between Medic and the wall, tensed up and unsure of what to do. He chose to keep his gaze on his own feet.
“Was just wonderin’ when you were plannin’ on paying me back for the project I did for ya.” Pyro could feel the eyes on him and fumed silently.
“Ah,” Medic opened the door, “Come in, we shall discuss the terms of your repayment. Mädchen, you may sit at my feet.”
Medic took a seat in the little sitting area, watching Engineer calmly. As much as he didn’t want to, Pyro plopped himself down beside Medic on the floor. He crossed his legs and the doctor set a hand on his shoulder.
The Texan didn’t sit and remained standing. Now that the door was closed, Medic dropped all pretenses, “You may have her tomorrow evening.”
Pyro balked, “What?”
“I did not give you permission to speak, Mädchen. Engineer, I am keeping her for the night.”
What? He was being bartered like some kind of currency?
“No, you can’t do this,” Pyro continued, looking up at Medic in disbelief, “I’ve been good!”
Medic backhanded the boy hard, rendering him silent. Pyro didn’t turn his head back, sucking on the new cut formed where his teeth had cut the inside of his cheek. “Yes, you have been good. Right now however, you are being insubordinate. Let the men talk.” No, Pyro couldn’t handle this.
“I’m not going to just let you fucking give me to people,” he snarled, backing away from Medic and rising to his feet.
“Stay on the floor,” the doctor warned. His voice was freezing up and his face crinkled in anger. Pyro ignored him and stood up.
“You can’t do this, I didn’t agree to this,” Pyro stammered on. He didn’t want to fuck Engineer again, he hated Engineer, he hated Engineer almost as much as he hated Soldier. The Texan watched him with thirsty eyes and Pyro wanted to throw up.
Medic moved quickly and grabbed the smaller hand, closing it into a fist and pressing Pyro’s finger up into his own palm. The boy cried in pain and tried to pull away, but Medic was immobile. With a quick snap, the finger broke.
Tears welled in Pyro’s eyes, but he blinked them away quickly. This was nothing compared to what he endured on a daily basis.
“No, Engineer, you are right,” Medic’s words were empty and rung against Pyro’s ears like a death toll. “You may have her tonight. You may do with her as you may, but no one else is to be involved. Only you.”
The boy’s mouth opened slightly and he yanked his hand from Medic’s grip. His finger ached sharply and he held it to his chest. Something clamped down on his shoulder; Engineer’s hand.
Engineer hauled Pyro close to himself and squeezed his thumb into the pressure point at Pyro’s collarbone. Instantly the boy went limp, his struggles ceasing entirely as he cried with hurt.
“No problem, doc. I’ll take good care of the little missy,” Engineer hissed in Pyro’s ear, “We’ll get those behavioral problems taken care of, won’t we?” His legs suddenly felt weak and Pyro realized what exactly he had done.
His hand and his chest ached bitterly.
“Would you like me to heal her first?” Medic asked casually. His eyes watched the gasping Pyro with a detached interest.
“Actually yeah, if y’don’t mind doc. I’d like a clean slate t’work with.”
Pyro let out a low breath as the medigun was trained on him. The warm glow was calming and his body instinctively relaxed in Engineer’s grip.
Medic came close to him after he was healed. “I suggest that you obey him,” he warned, grabbing Pyro’s chin and forcing their lips together for a brief second. “Only yourself, Engineer.”
“Of course doc,” the Texan drawled. “Guess we should get goin’.”
“Yes,” Medic agreed, “Oh, by the way,” he rose and disappeared through a second door in the room. That one connected to the medical bay. “Given your preferences, I have something to… help you this evening, Engineer.”
“Do you now?” Engineer’s voice crackled with desire. He held Pyro tighter, practically grinding their bodies together as he followed Medic.
“Indeed,” Medic rifled through a cabinet and took out a small case. Pyro tried to look at it, see what it was, but Engineer forced him to turn away.
“Well thank you very much,” he nodded and took what Medic gave him, “This will definitely aid our trainin’ session. Now come on girl, let’s get this horse on the track.”
Pyro’s stomach fell as Engineer led him out of the room. They encountered no one and Pyro couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. Where was Spy? Would the Frenchman save him from this?
‘Probably not, the fucking prick.’
Engineer’s room was lined with shelves, all neatly packed with books. It was like a whole library crammed into one room. Glancing at the ordered rows, Pyro made out a few titles. Thick instructional manuals. College-level textbooks on physics, chemistry, electrical engineering, laser technology. Hand-bound blueprints and notebooks upon notebooks upon notebooks.
No wonder the Texan was so brilliant.
Instead of taking him to the bed, however, Engineer led Pyro to the workshop and locked the door behind them.
“Take a seat on that table,” he instructed as he walked over to another door in the shop. The room beyond it was almost like an office of sorts, with more shelves, a stack of cabinets, and a desk along with a large light-up table for drawing blueprints.
“Y’like beer, missy?” he threw a glance over his shoulder, disappearing into the room. Pyro looked at the metal table Engineer had indicated and glumly plopped down onto it. Engineer emerged from the small office, two frosty and open brown bottles in his hands. He handed one to Pyro.
“Drink up,” he clinked the bottles together, “It’s best that you be relaxed.” Pyro’s eyebrows rose of their own accord. What was Engineer planning?
The cold glass was nice against his lips and he drank the bitter liquid gratefully. Maybe Engineer had a point; if he was drunk, maybe he could convince himself that it felt good. Blue eyes locked on him as they drank in silence. When he finished, Engineer silently brought him a second, a third, and then a fourth.
The beer was icy and good and Pyro could feel his body unwinding, his muscles loosening for the first time in days. He felt like maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Engineer apparently decided that that was enough alcohol and brought Pyro to the end of the table so that he could kiss his captive. He positioned himself, standing, between the muscular thighs as his hands roamed Pyro’s torso.
Cool, hard fingers brushed against his bare chest and Pyro shuddered, trying to return the sloppy kiss as best he could. He didn’t want to incur more pain than necessary. He was so sick of hurting, so sick of the broken bones and stinging bruises that had decorated his body almost constantly for the past week or so. How long had it been like this now? Pyro felt like he’d been stuck in this nightmare for an eternity.
Engineer laid him down, his humid skin shocked against the frigid metal table, and buckled his wrists and ankles into leather straps at the corners of the table. Pyro didn’t fight and realized all of a sudden that he felt dizzy and warm. Every muscle slowly melted into butter and he tried to struggle but his limbs refused to cooperate. How was he this drunk when he had only had four beers?
His mind churned slowly, trying to understand. Engineer had gone back into the little office each time to get the bottles, and while Pyro had heard the pop of the caps, he hadn’t seen Engineer open them.
Engineer had laced the beer.
“Something’s wrong,” he whispered weakly, barely able to force his lips to move. Engineer only laughed. The sound chilled Pyro’s blood.
The Texan had moved away and Pyro couldn’t see him at this angle, could only hear him. Things clicked together, metal and plastic and glass, and then Engineer returned. He had put on thick rubber gloves and was holding a thick, tapered steel shaft, about eight inches long, with a black cord trailing from it.
Pyro swallowed against the dryness in his throat.
“Y’see, electrical engineering is my specialty,” Engineer set the wand down and produced a pair of thick shears from apparently nowhere. He lifted Pyro’s shirt and began to cut it off.
The boy turned his face away, refusing to watch as his clothing was removed. The air was freezing against his skin and he closed his eyes just as something warm and wet was poured over him. Engineer proceeded to massage the wetly viscous liquid into his skin. Pyro couldn’t help it, he looked. It smelled familiar, but what the hell was it? He caught a glimpse of a clear glass bottle on the counter.
Olive oil. Engineer was covering him with olive oil. Pyro was confused and had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that the hands on him felt wonderful. Weakly, he tried to press against the touches. The Texan worked the oil into his chest, his neck, his belly, between his legs, inside of his slit. Engineer fingered him for a long time, fingered him until Pyro could feel the sweat rolling down his body.
The digits left him and Pyro breathed out a long sigh, only to be assaulted again as the thick fingers pressed into his anus. It didn’t hurt, Engineer took his time and thoroughly stretched and teased both holes until Pyro was trembling on the table, gasps pouring forth from his mouth. Every inch of skin was thoroughly saturated with the slick fluid and finally Engineer seemed satisfied and set the bottle aside. Pyro looked at him with questioning eyes, but received no answer.
A low buzzing started up, he couldn’t see where it was coming from, and the boy jerked hard as something hot was pressed to his neck.
Engineer stood above him, grinning widely, holding the steel against his skin. The heat spread out quickly and Pyro realized it wasn’t hot at all; it was electric. That steel shaft was an electrical wand of sorts.
“Engineer,” he whispered, seized with fear. It didn’t hurt right now, it felt kind of good, but Pyro had no doubt it wouldn’t feel good for long.
“Now you shush up,” the man answered, kissing Pyro on the lips again as the wand trailed down his body and traced his nipples. Pyro moaned and he wriggled in the restraints. It felt like sharp heated tongues licking against his flesh.
Engineer turned the dial up, eyes on Pyro. A sudden convulsion seized the boy and he heard himself scream. His whole body drew tight and it felt like every muscle snapped in half. Then it was gone. Pyro gasped for air.
“No-“ Pyro’s words dissolved into a scream again as the metal wand was pressed against his belly, his inner thighs. It felt like burning and frostbite at the same time, it felt like his heart was going to stop. The warm tip caressed his clitoris for a brief second before it was plunged into him. Hisses and whimpers escaped his throat as his body undulated against the table. Engineer fucked him with it for a few hard strokes and
Pyro cried when the toy was withdrawn.
Engineer turned the dial up again before he drove the wand back into the boy’s cunt.
Black agony erupted throughout every nerve and Pyro’s mind collapsed in on itself. He floated, formless, for a long eternity before he was brought back. His face stung and he realized why; Engineer had slapped the hell out of him to bring him back. Pyro opened his eyes and stared up at his tormentor as his chest heaved. Funny, it didn’t feel like was breathing at all.
Engineer chuckled and picked up the grey case that Medic had given him. “And this is why Doc sent us home with a care package.” There was a soft click as the case was opened, then simple rustling for a few minutes. Pyro trembled on the table, trying to gain his bearings. It was only a few moments until Engineer came back, a syringe held between his hard fingers. The Texan tapped the plunger to rid the chamber of any remaining air bubbles.
The boy tried to talk, plead, anything, but his mouth refused to work.
“Just another practical problem with a practical solution,” Engineer virtually purred as wrapped a spare cord around Pyro’s upper arm. He knotted it tight and watched the veins rise above the skin. Choosing a particularly fat one, he slid the needle cleanly beneath Pyro’s skin and pushed the plunger.
Pyro groaned. “Please,” he managed to gasp. His vertigo increased tenfold and he felt the world spin around him.
Everything seemed to pick up speed and the colors screamed at him with their passion. He could feel every single nerve vibrating in his body, all traces of pain gone. Engineer untied the cord from his arm.
“And one for the doctor.” Numbly, Pyro watched the Texan inject himself with whatever remained in the ampoule.
His heartbeat increased wildly over the course of a few seconds and he could hear it counting time like steady earthquakes in his head. It felt like his blood had been replaced by delicious fire.
Hands caressed his body and he moaned with pleasure. Every single touch felt so mind-blowingly good and for a few minutes Pyro forgot what pain was. Engineer was suddenly naked and Pyro looked at the stocky body with a hunger he had never felt before. The short Texan was built like a miniature steer, compact with heavy solid muscles and a generous covering of body hair. As his feverish eyes tracked Engineer’s body, Pyro blinked. Something didn’t look right about the other man. Pyro sat up and reached for Engineer, desperate for contact. As Engineer obliged the boy’s need for touch with hands and lips, Pyro realized what was different.
Engineer had both of his normal, human hands, meaning he had chosen to respawn without the gunslinger. A question from Scout during dinner a few months ago had informed the entire team that Engineer could reset the machine to spawn him with or without the metal appendage.
The Texan pulled away from him and Pyro’s thoughts were abruptly terminated. He watched Engineer rub himself down with olive oil, mostly around his waist. He reached into a cabinet and withdrew a thick, wide circle of knotted metal links. It almost looked like a belt. A cord draped off the side and plugged into a dull-green steel box with several gauges and dials. The metal shaft was plugged into that too, Pyro noticed.
Engineer wrapped the belt around his waist, secured it, and pressed a switch on the side of the green box. The machine hummed. A few knobs were turned and the Texan grunted. He was grounded now and the electricity wouldn’t harm him. He came back to Pyro and grabbed the smaller body.
Pyro wailed as white-hot fingertips of electricity traced over him, grasped him and pulled him close. Everywhere Engineer touched him, his skin burned. His thighs were spread and then Engineer was inside of him. The Texan bucked against Pyro, grunting with each thrust. Pyro couldn’t tell if it hurt or not and simply tried to stop screaming. He resigned himself to grinding his teeth so hard he could hear them screeching in his head.
Engineer smacked him across the face again and something was pushed into his mouth, then wrapped around his head. A gag. Pyro chewed on the rubber bit and ground himself against Engineer, his constant screams becoming muffled cries and sobs. Somehow it was agony and bliss at the same time as their oily bodies slipped and slid together. The slick hands gripped him as tightly as they could and Pyro could feel his orgasm approaching.
“Ngneer,” he whined through the mouthful of rubber, rolling his hips in time with the Texan’s persistent movement.
The sweet heat wrapped around Engineer’s cock throbbed and clenched down, tightening around his shaft as Pyro came in forceful spurts. Engineer groaned and slowly forced himself to stop before he followed the boy into the abyss. Reaching over, he turned the green box off.
Pyro sobbed on the table, “Pls,” he begged. Short, thick hands rubbed and stroked his shoulders, kneading the strained muscles.
“Y’liked that entirely too much.” Engineer’s voice tried to be disdainful but failed, “This was supposed to be a punishment, and look at you. Throwing yourself on my cock like the little bitch you are.” Pyro was wrapped again in the larger man’s body.
“I know what y’want, little miss,” the Texan burred into his ear, “Y’never had a man treat ya proper and you’ve gotten confused. Think you can step up and run with the boys… Y’knew this was going to happen, I know ya did. Don’t worry hun, we’ll get ya right again.”
Curious fingers slid into his pussy, dribbling in his fluids and using them as lubricant to further stretch Pyro’s anus. He felt parts of his body ache in a strangely specific way and his mind trembled when he recognized what it was: burns. Electrical burns from the steel wand.
His mind raced unendingly, and his body disobeyed every coherent thought he could manage. The boy felt sick as he responded to every single one of Engineer’s touches. Pyro was rolled onto his stomach, knees tucked under him with his bottom in the air.
“Enngee,” Pyro pleaded around the rubber bit. The Texan got up on the table and slicked his shaft with more oil before pressing himself to his captive. Traumatized nerves flared to life as Engineer slid pass the tight ring, stretching and stretching and stretching.
‘Why is he fucking my ass?’ Pyro’s thoughts dissipated quickly as the man began to move.
Engineer grunted with nearly every thrust, sweat trickling down his face in fat drops as he fucked the delirious cuntboy. Pyro was whimpering and crying beneath him, left cheek pressed flat to the table as shaking hands clenched and unclenched in time with the pumping of Engineer’s hips.
“See,” Engineer voice was thick with lust, “Doesn’t it feel good to be used right?” he leaned down to suck at the scarred neck, not missing a beat, “Y’take it so well lil’ miss. That’s how I know you want it.”
The pressure surging inside of his body was increasing too fast and Pyro could feel that he was going to lose it again soon. With a desperate cry, he came, juices flowing wetly down his thighs. Engineer answered with a growl, fucking Pyro with quicker strokes.
It was exactly then that Pyro blacked out, conscious mind crashing from overstimulation. The boy wilted in Engineer’s grasp but that did not stop the brutal pace that the Texan had established. He lasted for another five minutes or so until he grit his teeth, moaning as he came. Engineer finally pulled away from the boy and sighed, content, as he sank into a nearby chair to catch his breath.
Pyro lay silently on the table, chest rising and falling evenly. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Engineer rose and took a rag from a metal shelf. He cleaned up the area, put the toys on the counter near the sink for cleaning, and carried Pyro to another closed door. Within was a small bathroom containing one large tub.
The boy woke up floating in comfortingly hot water. He had been scrubbed clean and was now being held tenderly against Engineer’s chest. He turned slightly, veins still buzzing with the drugs he had been given, and nuzzled himself into the crook of Engineer’s neck. His eyelids, well his entire body really, felt heavy.
“Such a good girl,” he heard Engineer murmur just as he fell back to sleep.
Yes, finally, an update! There were two false alarms already, I don't think I could have taken a third one without raging violently.
This one was packed with so many kinks: electrotorture, drug experimentation, bondage, it just keeps getting better and better!
Not to mention the developing plot; I wish Spy would stop being such an elusive bastard so that we can see some progression. I am glad to hear some news about Scout though (if spy was being truthful). I wonder if he and Pyro will have a chance to interact, thats going to be an incredibly awkward conversation.
Well...how can i say? Please, mr. Egg, have in mind i don't want to sound rude, since now i know you use this fanfic for somewhat therapeutic reasons (something i find pretty nice and i totally support). It would be a shame, to me, if the writer start to feel bad about something that he likes to write and that it's so healthily good to him, just because of something i said. But once you said you like criticism, so...
But the thing is this chapter...well, in my opinion, it was just more unnecessary porn. I know this is a porn work and stuff, but since you said to us that you would turn this piece of yours into something more cerebral.
It's sad to say, but i'm comming back to read this because it provides me with hardcore, ugly and bloody rape scenes i like so much...and barely for nothing more. It's not because it's deep or skilled thoughtful about storylines or characterization. It's basically because it arouses me to read so many violence. And correct me if i'm wrong, but this isn't your goal, i guess. Right?
For me, the chapter made no increment in the story, pratically no improve in inner development of the characters, and just showed a glimpse of plot-development: the spy's appearence, that actually looked a lot like his other appearences and it didn't add much more to your story. It was scene that could have gone in other previous chapter, that would have made no difference.
That said, i reiterate that i don't want to be unrespectful with ya, and that i'll continue to read this story, because i'm still waiting that cerebral turning you said you would made (that i bet it will be great), and i want to support your works. Good luck!
(P.S.: please, excuse my bad english...)
There isn't really a motive for this anymore beyond unfolding the plot. I'm just trying to get the ideas out of my head. If that means it's just some kind of fucked up porn, then that's okay with me. I want it out of my head (but I want to entertain someone, even if it's just one person, at the same time).
I'm really working hard on this, harder than I have EVER worked on any kind of fanfiction, and it feels like not many people are getting it. Should I just stop posting this? Would someone be willing to tell me what needs to be different?
I honestly have not enjoyed a dark a/fic like this in a very long time. I think the internal monologue that you have Pyro go through is perfectly cerebral for someone who is being consistently traumatized. Your ability to show vs. tell what is going on astounds me and has me shaking out of joy and fear for Pyro time and time again. The relationship between Medic and Pyro is a perfect mix of endearing and despicable. The inherent malice in all the classes is everything I'd hope for in this type of fic. And most of all, despite the tone you still encourage the reader to cheer for the abused Fire-starter. Your ability to story tell beyond smut has made me care about Pyro. I hope you do not become dissuaded and are able to continue on in this story; you have my rapt attention.
Some Anon type person.
Is that so? Well, now that you explained that, that ya want just a great piece of porn with some plot-twist, everything is pretty clear to me now, hehe.
The thing is that, mr. Egg, since ya said in another comment that you would do somethin' cerebral...well, by it, i understood a very deep development of other aspects of any story (you know...character inner evolution, little changes in the story structure and style, great plot development...this stuff).
And it wasn't becoming like that, so i criticized it. That's it.
But now that you had made yourself clear... well, don't stop writing of course. Can't you tell, by so many good reviews and oh-please-keep-going type of messages, that you are entertaining people. Well, i feel VERY entertained (ya can tell it just by my last review, i suppose), if ya need something said blunt, hehe.
And, above all, don't stop writing this because it makes you feel...better.
That said, i want you to know that i...well, didn't mean to upset ya, like ya sounded... it wasn't my purpose. I'm sorry.
And...the story, by itself, it's pretty different (for me, that is always looking for good non-con fanfics, it is. There aren't many non-con fanfics with some quality out there.) But it would look like something very near of a master piece if it had the items i had listed above (the cerebral stuff, hehe) plus the raw and naked violence that i love so much.
Well, that's my opinion. Sorry again if i had upset you...srsly.
No, please don't apologize. I really do appreciate criticism, I just get kind of butt hurt sometimes because I tend to get really insecure. It's not a good habit, but breaking it is hard as hell. I really like when I get people's opinions, good or not, even if I do act like a little prissy bitch. Thank you buddy.
Thank you... means a lot to me.
NOW THAT THE AUTHOR IS DONE BEING BUTTHURT, WE RESUME OUR SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING.
I'm really working hard on this, harder than I have EVER worked on any kind of fanfiction, and it feels like not many people are getting it. Should I just stop posting this? Would someone be willing to tell me what needs to be different?
You show that the team's refusal to acknowledge Pyro's real gender is akin to a mental rape. If that's one of the cerebral things you're trying to convey, then I do see it.
No, I wouldn't recommend quitting any fic unless you've genuinely lost interest. If you're insecure, that's something you can work over. If you're insecure, you can edit it more, edit it less, make it more cerebral, or make it less cerebral and just turn it into rape porn. Whatever makes you feel better. As much as I love criticizing bad writing, I hate seeing insecure writers quit when the writer is genuinely trying to say something intelligent. It's too sad.
That being said, if you want someone to tell you what needs to be different in order for the fic to be more cerebral, start with the prose.
I disagree with >>64's statement that the narration is consistent for a traumatized person. I noticed in the last chapter and other chapters that you often describe Pyro's body with words like "sweet heat" and "quivering folds," even though the fic is from Pyro's 3rd-person POV. You said earlier that many transmen refuse to let others even see their vaginas, so why would Pyro, while being raped and gang-raped, think of his own private parts in such a gratuitous way? If Pyro was with Frank or any consensual lover, it might've worked. If it was from Engie's POV, it would at least be in-character. But it's neither.
I admit that these kinds of phrases do heighten the pornographic elements of the fic, but at the expense of characterization. And gratuitous sex at the expense of good characterization is the mark of non-cerebral porn.
Before someone shoots me for bumping this, hold your ponies. I have the next part written, but I desperately need a proof-reader. I think Pancakes may have been eaten by lemurs.
My email is posted. Thank you.
Y'can't just make a huge plot up and then write 2-3 chapters of unnecessary porn and turn it into a PWP-style story!
If Pyro was with Frank
I don't know if this is what you were going for with that statement, but when you said that Mimi, all I could think of was Frank from Tanner's Lessons. I just about lost my shit along with being mentally scared.
Anyways, Mr. Egg, I'm enjoying this fic, but for some reason I am really bugged by how much you re-tell that Pyro has lady bits. We get it, and I personally don't feel like it should be said so often. None the less, I will be sitting here waiting for more.
...wow. That was a terrible mistake on my part. I'd just read another story with a bisexual man named Frank, and I forgot that Pyro's old flame was actually called Brian. My point still stands regardless of the the name, but could hit myself in the face for being that dumb. Sorry, Eggwhites.
Well, maybe you can try the beta-finder on the Workshop. It's the thread 3289... it's not that famous, but maybe will help, who knows?
Well, as me, sorry if i don't candidate myself to read the chapter, it's i'll not work as a beta...i don't have a notion of english good enough to help...
Proof-read/edited/enhanced by Pancakes.
The rest of the evening was merely a hazy blur as Pyro faded in and out of consciousness. Some indiscriminate period of time later, he returned to the realm of the awake. It was cold, uncomfortably so, and he was fully dressed now. Lying flat on his back.
Opening his eyes was difficult. At first he wasn’t sure he could; everything remained black. Then he adjusted, noticing the soft red glow beneath him. He was laid on a table in the respawn room and he didn’t have to look to know that the doors were locked.
“What is wrong, amour?” He refrained from flinching and remained quiet. Hands on his shoulders; Spy was standing at the head of the table, apparently still cloaked. Pyro pulled away and sat up, turning to face where he thought Spy would be. As he settled himself, the Frenchman appeared before him and withdrew a cigarette from one of his apparently endless jacket pockets.
Spy lit it and offered it to the boy, who didn’t even look up. Undaunted, Spy took a casual drag and exhaled through his nostrils. Pyro turned away from him and for a minute, Spy wondered if he should speak or allow Pyro to drown in the silence. Choosing the latter, he sat on the table, his thighs lightly brushing against Pyro.
The boy didn’t move, didn’t even indicate that he noticed Spy’s presence at all. He stared at the wall, unresponsive save for the slight rising and falling of his chest.
Spy smoked his cigarette slowly and then put an arm around Pyro. For a long, long time, nothing happened, the room as still as the eye of a hurricane. And then, movement. The thin shoulders shook under Spy’s arm, slightly at first and then in great silent heaves as if Pyro were choking. Spy stole a glance at the boy’s face. He was crying.
Spy flicked his cigarette to the cement floor, where the cherry flared defiantly for a moment before sighing into black.
Both of them stopped breathing for just a second when the doors rattled. There was a brief flicker and a quiet breath of air as Spy cloaked himself. Pyro felt him move off of the table but soon lost the invisible man.
‘What time is it?’ Pyro glanced at the clock hanging on the wall by the supply closet. Oh-two-hundred-eighteen. He wiped the tears from his cheeks automatically, thoughts turning over like river stones in his mind. Somehow, he was not afraid.
The chains on the door continued to rustle: whoever was on the other side was having trouble picking the lock. A muffled epithet drifted under the door and the metal links chimed together nosily. Another few moments passed before there was another curse, a click, and then the clatter of the chains being unwound from the knobs. The doors swung open slowly and another man came forward.
Pyro gasped as everything came together in an instant. Spy’s mood swings, the elusive and evasive behavior, even his manner of speaking! How could he have not noticed? Spy even spoke differently at different times, different terminology. He had been so stupid!
A second RED spy entered the room, closing the doors behind him, looking at the floor rather than at Pyro. He lingered near the wall like a disease. “I’m not as powerful as I seem.”
Pyro stared at the thin man, unable to comprehend the situation. Was this the BLU spy? Or was the other spy the BLU? He had no idea and said nothing. His skin ached and he suddenly remembered being with Engineer. The wand. The electrical burns. Of course, that’s why he hurt so much.
Pyro and the new Spy stood there for what felt like an hour, staring at each other. Pyro was so shocked that he remained silent, waiting for something to happen. The world seemed surreal to him at that point, hyper-realistic, and he feared that an action as soft as a sigh might tear their very existence apart.
‘I have to do something.’ Just as Pyro opened his mouth to speak, the newcomer suddenly seized up and froze. The original spy appeared behind him in a shimmer of red, one arm around the second man’s throat.
“You are no spy,” the Frenchman spat, his voice punctuated solidly with distaste, “And now you will tell me who you are or I will kill you and find out for myself. Make your choice, monsieur. Quickly.”
The second spy swallowed, unsure what to do now that he was caught.
“I’m – I’m a – hey!” His accent cracked as Spy wormed an arm around his chest, reached into his jacket and yanked something out from within. A burst of electrical static lit up the room as the mask fell, and Spy stared at the BLU disguise kit in his hand in awe.
“Don’t fuckin’ touch me!” Scout pivoted on his right foot, spinning to face Spy, his pistol drawn and cocked. “An’ don’t fuckin touch Pyro either!”
There was a charged moment, the gasp before the scream, as Scout and Spy stared each other down.
To both Scout and Pyro’s surprise, Spy’s reaction was only to laugh. It started as a burbling chuckle and rolled into a wave of snorting disdain. Neither of the younger men could think of anything to say until the Frenchman finally caught his breath and shook his head.
“Oh you pathetic little boy,” he snickered through his teeth and flipped the balisong shut, slipping both it and the BLU disguise kit into his jacket, “How could I have not known? Pitiable Scout. This explains everything, doesn’t it. You poor, poor bastard.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Scout spoke fast and low. He kept his gun steady on Spy and did not waver. “Get the fuck out.”
“And what will you do if I do not?” Spy replied as he lit another cigarette and lounged against the wall, “Kill me? I will respawn in moments and find you. Now I have your precious disguise kit and you do not.” As he spoke, whispers of smoke trickled from his lips and nostrils. They hung for a brief second in the still air before tumbling lazily to the floor like leaves, “I suppose that is how you have been hiding from your suitors, hm?”
Scout’s face flushed hard, “Look man, get out of here. I got shit to do and it don’t involve a spy who likes hearing himself talk.”
“Such strong words,” Spy was moving now, circling around Scout as a cobra might circle its prey. The younger man turned with the Frenchman and held his ground. “Such strong words for the boy who so frequently bends over for the filthy workhand and the filthy bushman.”
Scout’s face was now as scarlet as his shirt and he said nothing. His whole body started to tremble. Spy laughed again, an ugly sound that shrieked across the dead air, and took another step closer to Scout.
“I take it you do not prefer their company? Shame,” Spy’s fingers curled around the thin filter and he flicked it to the floor, grinding it into cement with the toe of his black Italian wingtip. Pyro’s gaze flickered to the first charcoal smudge from earlier. He felt like he had been turned to stone.
Spy’s hands slipped casually into his pockets. “Perhaps I could be of some assistance.”
Scout’s blue eyes widened.
“No, I -“ Spy moved too quickly for eyes to follow, knocking the weapon out of Scout’s sweaty grip and thrusting his back to the wall. One hand squeezed around the nape of the boy’s neck, the other clutched the knife against his pale throat. With a low cry, Scout tried to struggle and abruptly stilled when the blade bit through the top layers of flesh.
“Listen closely, cheri, for I will only say this once. I will protect you from Engineer and Sniper in exchange for certain,” Spy smiled and Pyro couldn’t believe how horrid it was, “Favors.”
“… Seriously? How original, you’re just going to pull what Medic - ” Scout choked as he was kneed, hard and quick, in the stomach.
“Answer me or I will kill you in the slowest and most painful way possible and then deliver you to your boyfriends anyway. I will return your disguise kit and keep you from them if and only if you agree to this.”
The boy still hacked uncontrollably, unable to speak as he heaved. Spy held him as tightly as ever, keeping Scout firmly entrapped. Tears streamed down the boy’s inflamed face from the coughing fit and finally he took a shaky breath. His eyes refused to meet Spy’s, staring distantly into empty space.
“I refuse,” he spit abruptly, and then kicked his knee up as hard as he could, trying to mimic what Spy had done to him. Spy caught Scout’s leg almost immediately and then pushed him sideways with a great shove. Scout crashed to the ground like a statue and then Spy was on him. The boy grunted in pain as he felt the blade jab into his arm. He started kicking furiously.
Just as Pyro came back to himself, finally in control of his body again, Spy had effectively pinned Scout flat, the younger man’s belly to the floor. A hand was wrapped tightly around the Scout’s throat.
“You little bitch,” Spy snarled; froth flecked the man’s lips. Scout stilled, wheezing with every breath, and closed his eyes. The shiver returned to his limbs and he shook beneath the other man.
Pyro remembered seeing Scout at the mercy of the Engineer and Sniper, bound and bleeding. There was no way he could let that happen again. Almost automatically, he rose from the table and tackled Spy, graceless as a drunk.
“Pyro,” Scout’s voice resonated like a thunderclap, “Don’t!”
All too quickly, fire erupted, blossomed and twisted in Pyro’s belly. He fell backwards onto the ground, suddenly weak and boneless. A hand went to his stomach to soothe the hurt and came away painted with tacky scarlet. The cobra had struck, desperate to defend its catch.
“Stay out of this, girl,” the Frenchman snarled, and kicked Scout back to the ground when he tried to rise.
Scout laid there, thoughts cracking like broken bones within his head, forgetting Pyro for a split second. He had no doubt that Spy would hand him over to Engineer and Sniper. Now, with neither the cloak nor the disguise kit, it would be nearly impossible to hide from them, like it had been in the beginning.
“This is your last chance,” Spy’s lips curled, “Cheri.”
Or he could let Spy protect him in exchange for… the same thing. But it wouldn’t be two of them and hopefully – hopefully – Spy wouldn’t be nearly as rough. Scout remembered watching Spy take Pyro, during the first time. When Scout had participated. Internally, he burned with shame. At the time, he had been too scared; he didn’t want them to turn on him. So he had fucked Pyro at Sniper’s threatened command and then fled.
A moment of time sprung into Scout’s mind. The way Spy had caressed Pyro, whispering to calm the frightened boy down. Spy had been gentle, almost loving, with him. Scout’s gut knotted.
Spy smiled now, broad and bright, and helped Scout to his feet. The younger man’s eyes fell on Pyro, sprawled on the floor and gurgling blood. Red stained Pyro’s hands, clothes, and gathered on the floor in a sticky puddle.
“Do not mind her,” Spy whispered in Scout’s ear. The Frenchman was much too enthused about this new turn of events to wait until he had Scout in his room. He estimated that it would take Pyro about twelve minutes to die and five minutes to respawn; more than enough time for him to have his boy and slake his thirst.
Forcefully, Spy pushed his victim to the floor so that Scout knelt before him.
Pyro gasped uselessly in the corner, willing himself to die quicker so that he could pry the monster from his friend. His friend? His only ally.
Dimming eyes watched silently as Spy’s aristocratic hands unzipped his fly, withdrew his hardening cock.
“Open your mouth,” came the instructions. Eyes squeezed shut, Scout obeyed. “Go on now, boy, all of it.” Scout started to slowly gulp the shaft down. He was mildly surprised: Spy was gentle and worked with him rather than against him. Scout’s throat, being used to much more violent treatment, gave way smoothly and within a few minutes Spy was fucking the captive’s face with fast, even strokes.
Looking to the corner, Spy saw that Pyro had completely lost consciousness. Or at least it looked like it. He couldn’t tell if the boy was breathing, but didn’t really care either.
“Get up,” he murmured as he withdrew from Scout’s mouth, grasping himself and stroking firmly.
Pyro wasn’t unconscious. Staring at other two men, he wanted to scream.
Scout wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and shakily rose to his feet, refusing to look at the older man. He didn’t know how he felt. Spy had been much gentler than Engineer or Sniper had ever been, but still…
“Bend over for me.” The boy obeyed quietly, supporting himself on his elbows over the table and closing his eyes as he felt Spy’s hands slide up his shirt. Spy’s hands skimmed his stomach and unbuttoned his trousers, pulled them down his hips along with the briefs beneath. Hot palms stroked his hips, his ass, his thighs, his back.
Pyro could feel his muscles tensing. He could do this, just take a deep breath and do it!
“Relax,” the Frenchman soothed as he knelt and kissed Scout’s tailbone. Leather-clad hands spread Scout open and the boy tensed as he felt warm breath over the sensitive skin.
Nearly driven mad with need, Spy let his tongue dart forth, lapping around the tight pucker. He was rewarded with a gasping cry from Scout. He allowed himself to enjoy a few long, greedy licks before he straightened up – he only had ten minutes, at most.
Pyro inhaled slowly and whimpered. It hurt to breathe. Clamping his arm tighter to his belly, he gathered himself. He would save Scout. He had to save Scout!
Kissing Scout’s naked neck, Spy pulled off one glove. He pressed his fingers to Scout’s mouth, who compliantly sucked the digit between swollen lips. Scout laved the fingers thoroughly with saliva, drawing a low purr from Spy’s throat. Finally he pulled his hand from Scout’s mouth and gently worked it into the boy’s body. Scout remained still, not reacting save for the minute tremors that still plagued him. Spy did not take long to prepare Scout, and spit on his palm to lubricate himself. He pressed his cockhead to the soft wet flesh.
“Be still,” Spy crooned, “Relax for me. Take a deep breath.”
Pyro wanted to cry. Slowly, he struggled to his feet, only to tumble backwards again.
“Now, slowly, exhale.” The boy let the air leave his lungs, and then huffed as Spy slid effortlessly into him. There was no pain, no discomfort. It was not like Engineer and Sniper at all.
Scout gasped as the Frenchman began to thrust, slow and steady. Pulling his lips from Scout’s fragrant young flesh, Spy made a quiet noise of pleasure. His boy was so warm, so tight, so wet inside. How dare those filthy vagrants touch his boy! But no matter, now Scout was his at last.
Pyro went limp on the floor, warmth leaving his limbs at an alarming rate. He closed his eyes.
Scout quivered on the table, unable to comprehend the electricity crackling through him. Spy was gentle. He still didn’t enjoy it, but by God it didn’t hurt. He was quiet, save for the occasional gasp, as Spy fucked him. The man didn’t last long and came with a sigh, his last thrusts like waves lapping gently at shore.
When Spy withdrew, Scout could have sworn that he felt emptier than usual.
Pyro came back to his senses with a disconcerting jolt. He pulled his gasmask off and listened, his eyes still shut. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see what has happening just yet.
To his surprise, he heard only soft breathing and the regular hum of respawn. The room was warmer than it had been (or at least it felt like it) and Pyro could smell the musk of sex. He opened his eyes.
Scout was sitting on the table next to him, fully clothed, looking at the floor. The disguise kit and his pistol sat beside him.
“Where is Spy?” Pyro asked quietly.
“He left.” Scout gestured to the closed, but unlocked, doors. His body was taut, drawn like a bow.
“Why are you still here?” Pyro sat up, turning towards his fellow victim. No response. “Scout?”
“It’s not like I wanted it,” the younger man spoke fast. Picking up his gun, Scout turned and started to unload and reload the weapon compulsively. “I – they started doin’ that like four months ago. Just wanted to drink with him, y’know, actually hang out with someone. He was the only one who was nice to me at all, everyone else just treated me like a fuckin kid. He put somethin’ in the fuckin beer.”
Scout was talking much too fast for Pyro to even think of getting a word in. “You’re always in the basement, y’never knew. And I won’t lie, when they found out about you, they left me alone. I’m sorry I did it, that one time. If I hadn’t they woulda fucked me too. I’m a coward Pyro, and I’m sorry. I took the watch and the kit off a BLU spy like two months ago, it let me hide from them. An’ then they started getting you too and I couldn’t let ya suffer like I did. I fought them, I fought ‘em like hell but they’re just too strong. It’s like Engie always knows where I am, even if I’m cloaked or disguised.”
Scout said all of this almost in one breath, his voice as flat as the tables they sat upon. His voice betrayed no emotion, and neither did his body language.
Pyro just stared.
“I’m – I’m sorry,” he sputtered, unsure of what else to say. His back ached and he tried to stretch and relieve the pain. He remained silent as Scout rose to his feet, gathered his things, and left the room.
Pyro sat for a minute or two, replaying the night’s events in his head. He looked at the table. His back hurt too much for him to sleep on it again tonight. But what else could he do?
His eyes traced over the double doors, still open from when Scout had broken in earlier. Ah, an idea.
He stood and headed for Medic’s quarters, padding quietly along the cavernous hallways. Pyro knocked and prayed that the German wouldn’t be angry.
It took Medic about a minute to answer, the door opening slowly as dark blue eyes blinked, unfocused, from within. When Medic realized whom he was looking at, his face curled in a nasty scowl.
“Pyro?” Medic asked, his voice dangerously edged.
“Can I sleep with you please, I miss you,” Pyro muttered and turned his face to the ground. There was only a small chance that this would work, and he could feel his stomach threatening to empty itself. Finally, Medic answered.
“Oh little Pyro,” one could feel the barely controlled glee in the man’s voice, “Of course you may.”
A few minutes later found Pyro, naked, in bed next to his persecutor. He was turned on his side, facing Medic, with one thick arm wrapped tightly around his body. Pyro sighed, strangely content despite his intrinsic hatred for the man. Nothing hurt. Instead he was cuddled in warm, soft sheets that smelled like Medic’s aftershave.
“I knew you were a good boy,” Medic murmured to him and kissed the top of his head, kissed his cheek, kissed his lips chastely. Pyro let his body relax into the soft mattress. So, so much better than the hard metal tables in respawn.
“Bitte. Now sleep, little one.”
Well, that's that mystery cleared up! A shame it cleared up in such a dismal fashion for Pyro alike though, as now he's lost what was possibly his most valuable ally to the fear from the actual Spy. I was, however, a bit confused about why Pyro would go crawling back to Medic like that. I should think a sore back is less of a problem than having to deal with the man who's been abusing him all this time.
I don't know how many of you were aware of the kerfuffle over that mpreg fic with the trans* Medic that I pointed out problems with, but one of the main complaints about my criticism of it was that I had not admonished the author of this fic at all. Admittedly the first time I tried to read this fic the formatting threw me off and I stopped reading after a couple of paragraphs. But since it's been bumped I tried to read it again.
And I can't read this. I just can't.
This is the most vile fan fiction I've ever read in my life. I could not even complete the first chapter because of the blood rushing to my face and my vision blurring and my stomach feeling sick. Just reading the comments I am to understand that this is basically "PYRO GETS RAPED ALL THE TIME: THE FAN FICTION." I really wish I could read this fic more to give an objective opinion but all I see are the mercenaries reduced to one-dimensional rape machines that exist only to torment the possible self-insert Pyro for no other reason than that they're evil or maybe it's just Medic that's evil I don't even know.
And it sucks.
I mean it. This is awful. It lacks subtlety and depth and every last one of you calling this "cerebral" has demonstrated that you wouldn't know "cerebral" if it whacked you upside the head with a Godspeed You! Black Emperor vinyl and a copy of Johnathan Livingston Seagull. This is the literary equivalent of an exploitation film that seems to have taken way too long for any kind of pay off unless you really enjoy a character being raped over and over.
I really do feel like that this fic is not being criticized because you are trans*, EggWhites. If you weren't trans* and writing this same fic the entire chan would be shredding into this, and rightly so. I mean I know this is you working out issues and all but seriously. It reads like a sleazy exploitation novel except you want it to be DEEP and EMOTIONAL but you can't have it both ways. You can't have your graphic depictions of rape paired with flat, cartoonish characterization and expect to be taken as anything other than what it is: sleaze. I don't mind sleaze at all but nothing pisses me off more than sleaze and shock paired with pretentiousness. You have no concept of what tone to use for something supposed to be this heavy and it shows in just the very first installment.
Somebody's gotta say it.
I feel like reading this is like watching a snuff film.
This is exactly why I avoid the hell out of "X is raped and tortured endlessly by his teammates/enemies" stories. I've seen several of them on the chan, and the all made my skin crawl. They have nothing to do with profound psychological exploration, and everything to do with the author's masochistic, thinly-veiled self-insertion rape fantasies.
I'm in no position to pass judgement on a person for having bizarre kinks or enjoying gratuitous non-con, but it makes me feel a bit better to know that I'm not the only one who was creeped the fuck out by this story and its ilk.
Have to agree with Cat and yang here. I don't doubt that there are people here and out there who enjoy this sort of thing. But to me, this comes off as a story written from the rapist's point of view. All the excuses, all the rationalizations, all the burdens in this plot are textbook examples of rape culture. It's hard to stomach, not because it's rape, but because in this story you've ok'd it. There's way too much of that in real life already.
I don't usually comment on fanfics, but I must say I do agree with Cat with this. This story is flat, one-dimensional, and all-around bad. I mean, non-con and guro are fine in their own respective arenas, but even they need to be tastefully done. This is completely DIStasteful. There's no excuse as to WHY everyone is being abusive sex-driven animalistic rape machines. Simply saying that it's because they "haven't seen a woman in a while" is a cheap excuse. That's not enough to turn people in "oh look, someone with a vagina, let's rape her" people. Does RED have some sort of question on their application that asks "ARE YOU A RAPIST?"
This fic really seems like it's mindless, gratuitous "OH, POOR POOR PYRO EVERYONE IS SO MEAN". Hell, you could probably even remove the whole trans part of it and it wouldn't affect the overall story at all. It doesn't add a layer of depth to the story because the story HAS no depth to begin with.
I absolutely agree with the above comments here. I kind of bumbled into this a while ago assuming it was a Divine Comedy crossover (what was I thinking) and bailed out when stuff started getting scary, but I saw it near the top of the list again and came back out of morbid curiosity.
Non-con and gratuitous rape fantasy fics are fine and dandy but I think it's really important to recognize them as such. Trying to integrate meaning and complexity into that stuff is tricky and this fic is a spectacular failure in that regard. Your explained reasoning for leaving out Demoman is that "Every other class I can see as possibly being a real person, with real feelings and real thoughts", and yet not a single character here is written as such. Not by a long shot. Every character is either under column "feeble sex slave suffering from bizarre pseudo-Stockholm Syndrome" or column "heartless mindless super-sadist rape machine." Maybe these are good for indulgent porn, but they're flat and uninteresting and not at all conductive to a decent story.
Porn for the sake of porn is great but trying to label this as having complexity or sensitivity in regards to anything is ridiculous. C'mon, dude, even de Sade novels contain a sliver of introspection. You can't slap a doily on a turd and call it a centerpiece.
In short, agreed. I wish I had some sort of clever analogy or something wise to say-- I really don't, so I won't try.
It's a pornfic, and I see it at just that. A pornfic centered around the repetitive nature of Pyro's new rape-filled life. Perhaps it's paying homage to the repetitive nature of the game itself. Maybe it's meaningful.
But as I see it right now- it is merely a rapepornfic.
This post has been deleted.
I've read this probably a hundred times over...but it's nothing sort of fetishistic wank material. I've never believed otherwise from it. The frankly cringe-worthy attempts at making a plot out of it have just left me baffled, and I've found it easier to skip over any mention of names at all. That's a serious problem.
The only one of the rapey-characters that isn't just 'yup, that's a hole, in I go' in their behavior is Heavy, and he seems to forget that he apparently felt 'bad' about it and dives right back into 'yup, that's a lady hole' behavior. Each character is interchangeable, with absolutely nothing pointing out their differences.
We have the gameplay taunts, their roles in the game, and the Meet The ___ videos to base their characters off of. Sniper's a bit of a loner, but he has 'standards'. It's hard to buy him as just being a violent rapist for the sake of it. Soldier seems unconcerned with anything that isn't fighting, but he would probably try to push for the American ideal of 2.5 kids, a white picket fence, and a golden retriever if he did decide to go anywhere near a relationship. You get the idea, I'm sure.
In the first chapter, the hardest to read chapter due to the formatting, the characters all behave slightly differently. After that, they are each interchangeable and utterly indistinguishable.
Rather more disheartening is that you do mention demoman in one of your chapters, I think he's eating or some such, but he has no involvement whatsoever. He's a character with a lot of, well, character, and your non-inclusion of him when the rest of the characters have been reduced to mindless cocks that need a female hole to be satisfied with smacks of insanity.
The final thing is that they were hired to work as a team. Having two members of the team get regularly raped and assaulted to the point where they are taking BLU spy's shit to keep themselves safe probably wouldn't do so good for numbers on either side. Chances are there would be administrative work done, either by switching them to a different team (or is this the only nine?) or by firing the rapists and hiring new people. Most employers try not to make 77% of their workers rapists and have the remaining bit be easily overpowered and easily fucked. Even if we decide that somehow RED has no idea what's going on, what the fuck is stopping Pyro and Scout from quitting? It's not like working for RED is the only job available in the world.
I understand that since TF2 doesn't immediately present you with full character arcs for each character that it becomes a bit of a grab ass to fill in how you want them to be, but this has stripped out what made each character unique.
I suppose I can end it with how I started this: I have to remove their TF2 class names whenever I read it, because it is cringe-worthy to read about my favorite, goofy, TEAMmates being reduced to soulless, blank, flat rape monsters.
He's a character with a lot of, well, character, and your non-inclusion of him [...] smacks of insanity.
Don’t accuse people of having a mental disorder for not including Demo in their fanfics. I’m well-versed in both DSM-IV and ICD-10 and trust me, there’s no diagnosis of hypodemo fictitia listed in either.
Aplogies, Cyan. Wrote that rather early. I wasn't meaning literally that a mental disorder was behind the decision, but rather that there was no good reason to exclude Demoman, and the reason given was lackluster.
I suppose 'laziness' would have been a better word.
If you really hate this story that much, then don't read it. It's that simple. Or, alternatively, you can continue to line up and echo each other on how absolutely terrible it is.
Either way, I am going to finish this story and I don't care if everyone on this site hates it and/or hates me for it.
I think this is more a matter of people realizing it's okay to express their disgust over this story. Nobody suddenly decided to hate on it, they just saw they weren't a maverick loner in a forum full of people who love pointless exploitation dolled up as something deeper.
You're mature not to throw a hissy-fit over the fact that a bunch of people came out and admitted they can't stand this story.
That is toeing the line on fanfiction.net fanbrat behavior, which is not tolerated here. I suggest you rephrase that.
EggWhites, no one is saying "this is shit" without explaining to you why they think this isn't a successful story. If the criticisms seem repetitive, it's probably because the weaknesses in this story are repetitive. However, to my eyes the recent rash of criticisms do examine different aspects of this story and why they don't work, and instead of crossing your arms and essentially telling people to go to hell ("don't like don't read" and "la la la I can't hear you" are poor responses as an author who has knowingly posted their work for public reading and criticism) you could use them to improve your writing.
If you're hellbent on finishing it fine, but for goodness sake if you're not going to acknowledge this as strictly self-indulgent gratuitous wank then at least have the integrity as an author to acknowledge the glaring flaws in your story instead of declaring that anyone who doesn't like it must hate you.
Don't like, don't read is not an excuse. This fic is has a lot of problems, first among them is your inability to take in any critique and learn from it. Yes, you've improved somewhat in terms of sentence structure, but there's still incorrect punctuation all over the place.
The main flaw of your story is that it fails in its entirety to be "cerebral" as you call it. You've used the fact that it's fictitious to avoid facing that these characters have absolutely no root in reality. Even if all you're going for is a bit of rape wank material, there needs to be some psychological consistency for verisimiltude. You have none here. So the technical problems in your story are now compounded by the total lack of plausibility. We, as an audience, don't trust you enough to believe you.
In fact, when I first saw this I was able to wade about two sentences in before I dismissed it. It was only when I saw discussions about this story on tum blr that I returned and took another look. I can honestly say that this story wasn't worth my time reading. It wasn't before and it isn't now. That's really harsh to say and it's hard not to take it personally, but this is what you need to see and internalize to improve.
Discovery is an awful story. It's poorly executed and is unable to present any entertainment value as either a shallow plot or a complex one. It's vapid, rape for the sake of rape, and quite frankly minimizes the entire experience of being raped. You've taken all these characters we know and love, and gutted them for the sake of your original character. That's bad writing. We all go through it, but it's bad and if you want to move on from mediocrity, you need to recognize why it's bad and stop doing it.
Eggwhites, you can write this story all you want. But we can comment on it all we want. Now that the floodgates have opened, you either have to face up to the reality and revamp this story or endure the contempt of your audience. This isn't ff.net and we're certainly not obligated to make you feel better. If you post here, be prepared for concrit--often times very harsh concrit. And if you can't handle that, then you should consider your options.
SUCK IT UP.
You don't get to whine. You posted your horrible rape fic on a public website and when I finally stood up and told you that your shit stinks people actually felt like they didn't have to ignore it anymore and are giving you a piece of your mind. Quite frankly I shouldn't have been the one to initiate this and this should have happened a long fucking time ago. We've allowed this open wound to fester and pus for far too long and now it's gotten so bad that the only treatment is amputation.
Go ahead and finish writing this godawful trash if you want, but don't bitch when people are pointing out the same problems over and over. They're not parroting each other, it means your fic is fucked and you're too wrapped up in your own pretentiousness to realize that it sucks. This fic is as deep as a puddle of vomit.
How about instead of telling us not to read it if we don't like it, you don't post your fic where the public can see it if you don't like people saying it's awful.
How's that sound?
Looks like you have two choices, Eggwhites.
Now, you say you are writing this for the purposes of catharsis and/or self analysis. Far be it from me to stop you from gaining your insight, so I shall assume you will continue writing it.
One: This story stays and continues on the Chan, for all to see, and people are free to leave their negative comments, also for all to see (including you).
This is a risk you run. If you wear a hat out in public, expect it to be looked at. And if you wear a hat to a gathering of hatters and hat fans, expect them to comment.
Two: This story stops here on the Chan, and you continue writing it but start posting it elsewhere, in a private place.
This would be best, if the actual act of writing is what gives you the emotional outlet. None to comment on your bared nerves, and the words are vomited out as you wish.
However, if what you seek is validation of a rape-apologia-fantasy that others find repugnant, or the rush of humiliation from the abuse that it garners, you are in the wrong place.
It is simply rude and offensive to force others to take unwilling part in your therapy. There are other places on the internet where your story will be welcomed.
Thank you so much, chatty catty bountry, for starting up another Troll Fest.
It's not a troll fest, Anon.
It's an intervention.
>>94 This. If people were trolling the author, they'd be talking here about how they got raped by the cast of TF2 as well, or telling the author to slit their wrists and/or stop writing forever.
Everything disgusting, excessively violent, or woobie-ish that I've ever drawn or written was for my own sick thrills, humans are just like that. We all love to explore some of the things we hate. There's no shame in admitting you're doing something for grotesque arousal. I think the author does admit it, somewhere way back there, but most of the valid criticisms up until now have been ignored. You just can't post something like this and not expect a lot of emotional criticism.
I think that writing and art can be an important source of catharsis for people's gruesome fantasies, neurotic ideas, and fears. But a fanfic on a public forum is the wrong place to do it, if you expect other people to keep mum about seeing you transform characters they love into the souless rape-ghouls of your nightmares. Honestly, I was kind of relieved to discover I'm not the only one who's appalled by this kind of story. People only spoke up now because they realized that they weren't the only ones who felt disgusted by this, and felt that it was less a cerebral story that could educate people about the plight of transsexuals/rape victims, and more about exploitation and masochistic fantasty.
tl&dr: There's no rule saying the author can't continue writing this. There's also no rule saying people can't post their opinions on it, good OR bad.
It is simply rude and offensive to force others to take >unwilling part in your therapy.
We as commenters have the right to force our opinions via comment, but eggwhites doesn't get to post freely as well? get over yourselves, people.
What i've seen here is cat posts X and suddenly every lurker is like I AGREE WITH CAT. I get it, cat, you have a big following, and you do have good work, and you hate this story. What you did here wasn't just state your opinion, you've gone out of your way to dredge up drama. Any rebuttal from eggwhites has been met with YOU DON'T GET AN OPINION WE DON'T LIKE, NOW FOLLOW OUR OPINION.
seriously. Also, someone said they saw punctuation problems, where? I couldn't find very many at all.
Not sure if you're deliberately trolling or just retarded. Do you own the chan? no? Well then why are you trying to control the content on it?
TL;DR: There are people who like different things than you. Get over it.
White Knighting works on DA and FF; I don't really get the point of 'sticking up' for someone. It was more of an issue of no one voicing their opinions sooner (or outright avoiding the fic) because no one wanted to somehow find out they were completely wrong to feel put off by this.
The thing about this fic is that there is -nothing- that ties the characters to their own canon. Given that the canon is very malleable and gives tons of room for tweaking the characters, that's almost remarkable in its absurdity.
It's just a constant rape fantasy that really, REALLY emphasizes Pyro's female parts despite Pyro identifying as male; the story makes a point to constantly shift from describing Pyro as male to female in a rather jarring attempt to switch POV, but it seems to be more or less an excuse to describe Pyro sexually. Rape is not sexy, nor is it enjoyable for the victim; this fic seems centered on how good it feels and how Pyro is utterly helpless to do anything besides let them constantly rape him.
And instead of saying "oh, wow, I didn't realize this, can someone beta for me/help me out?", the author's response was "if you don't like it, don't read it, I'm posting it as is with no changes at all until it's finished". That shit's normally tackled ten times over as an obnoxious excuse, but instead it was given a thumbs up.
To put it in perspective: if someone wrote a 'kawaii desu desu sugoi' fic here and then declared it was part of their therapy, there wouldn't be this much White Knighting.
The fic itself is written alright; it's nothing to eagerly check for updates for, and the detail is sparse unless it involves more rape.
I think the only redeeming factor about the plot itself is that the Scout is apparently a good guy not-rapist; instead, he's a complete coward and apparently enjoys rape if it's painless. In the game, the Scout can deliver seriously punishing damage up close and is the fastest class; it seems grossly out of character and out of class skill set for him to be a weak pushover that surrenders to, of all people, the Spy.
It's just jarring to see every single character reduced to flat, emotionless sex robots that have nothing to do with their setting or canon. This story could have their names cut out, Respawn removed, and you could literally apply it to any other fandom in the world. Or give it original characters.
Another example, while I'm at it: what if someone wrote a story where Soldier was beaten up by the rest of the team constantly? Soldier would be crying, begging them to stop, and they would all be laughing wildly. And it'd happen ten times over, with different people focusing on him. And their only reason would be that he looked punchable. And that was it.
I think what's most baffling is that no one has a motive. They all just see that Pyro has a vagina, which Medic decided one day was reason enough to grab their teammate and have the entire team (minus demoman) rape him. And keep doing it. Because a vagina is the ultimate cause of pleasure. Even though they had no problem apparently fucking the scout prior to that.
I get liking a story. But there is no story here. This is browsing Redtube for a few minutes, stringing it together, and saying it was rape instead of consensual.
Eh, personally I can't stand how vulgar and mean Cat's posts usually are, but if we make the situations black-and-white, I tend to agree with Cat's position more often than not. My sentiments are in line with Obvious's; I was relieved to learn that I wasn't the only one that for a multitude of reasons couldn't get on-board with this fic.
If I were EggWhites, my feelings would probably be really, really hurt by this mass revolt against the fic, but I can't say that it's unjustified, and I can't say that EggWhites' response was the best. Truthfully I'll probably keep reading (or skimming) any future updates out of morbid curiosity.
Please please please mods can you just pop a cap in this thread's ass and end our misery?
>>99 No don't ! All the drama going on makes this thread a story on its own! It has amazingly thought out characters, drama, realism! I love seeing bumps, because then there'll be another fun opinion to mull over and agree/not agree with!
While I have my own reservations about the quality of this fic as well as the ongoing arguments in this thread, that's not enough reason for this to be banned. One of the major arguments most of the posters have made is that Eggwhites has the right to post his story, but everyone else can comment on it and even express anger. Banning/locking this thread will ruin the point people are trying to make.
I am annoyed that it took five months into the story and one popular author's word for all the really passionate critics to come out of the woodwork. (Remember, it's ok to express an opinion on your own.) But I suppose better late than never.
Also, PLEASE sage. Let's not clog up the chan with arguments.
We as commenters have the right to force our opinions via comment
No, we don't. We have the right to express our opinions, and other posters in turn have the right to express theirs, even if their opinion is that our opinion sucks.
I am annoyed that it took five months into the story and one popular author's word for all the really passionate critics to come out of the woodwork. (Remember, it's ok to express an opinion on your own.)
This situation was very particular, though...
I mean, I always express my honest opinion. Whether I'm talking with a friend, or a random stranger, or a BNF, or a mod, I will always say what I think, politely but firmly.
(Well, within reason, anyway. Sometimes a little white lie is the best course of action, ala placebo effect, and being right is not as important as not being a dick. And sometimes I'm just tired).
But here... The author mentioned that he was raped and that he was writing the story as catharsis. The way the talk was framed, anybody making a serius criticism would come across as the moustache-twirling bad guy bullying a transgendered rape survivor.
I definitely thought this story was abysmal.
1)It made no logical sense: how can the Team work together well enough to win the battles if two of them are constantly getting tortured by the others? Why does Pyro never consider quitting the job to get away from his torturers? And if he is good enough to take out the enemy Team so efficiently, why does he never properly fight back? He is Pyro, ffs, he of Kill-It-With-Fire fame, why does he never think of burning the whole place down? No Respawn chamber, no Respawn!
2)General dishonesty. I'll admit that I've read and enjoyed torture porn and rape fics, but those stories were always completely honest about what they were: grotesque entertainment. Whereas Discovery, which somehow manages to be more gratuitous and exploitative than all of those fics combined, is absurdly presented as cerebral.
3)No, seriously, I've read and enjoyed torture porn and rape fics, and I STILL felt sick to my stomach reading this. Discovery definitely does read like it's expressing the rapists' POV, it's full of bullshit excuses and rationalizations. The whole characterization of the main character basically comes across as "the lad doth protest too much!" It really is rape culture at its ugliest.
And yet, until now, I never said any of that. Because I didn't want to come across as the moustache-twirling bad guy bullying a transgendered rape survivor. Even if the very idea of seeking catharsis in a public forum full of random strangers is incredibly unhealthy, and there was no way Eggwhites could heal like that.
In a way, Cat Bountry took one for the team. She exposed herself as a big bad meanie, and in doing so she allowed the rest of us to criticize the story without feeling too bad about it, as well as stopping Eggwhites from keeping doing something self-damaging.
I got in an argument with Cat once, and I was pretty upset about that. But I have to admit, she had the balls to do what I could not. I always make a big deal about the importance of free and open criticism, but here I buried my head under the sand. I really respect Cat now for her "intervention."
What Millia said. I never commented on this fic until after Cat blasted it because of the enormous can of sociological worms that Eggwhites placed on top of it when he posted it. I found it pointless, badly-written and offensive, but did not want to be accused of intolerance if I questioned the quality of a story glorifying transphobia and rape that had been written by a professed transman/rape survivor.
I'd just like to take a post to point out that Mimi hit the nail on the head here when it comes to the "rights" part, and the thread absolutely will not be locked, nor any posts culled, until the point where posts stop being either somewhat useful criticism or acceptably polite debate. Where the line for both of those are drawn is more of a personal thing, so I can't say exactly what that entails, but assuming we keep it more productive and civil than >>99 and >>100 , Eggwhites will be free to continue posting, and the rest of us free to express opinions.
Cat may not own the chan, but she IS a mod here.
I am trans*, I have been sexually assaulted, this story is abhorrent, especially the way the author tries to pass it off as "cerebral".
I understand the urge to write fic as catharsis, I really do. I've done it myself. And then I grew up and realised that using my fans as therapists was unfair on everyone involved and deleted the relevant fics. Eggwhites is free to write and post what he wants, yes, but that doesn't mean the rest of us have no right to pass comment on it.
"There isn't really a motive for this anymore beyond unfolding the plot. I'm just trying to get the ideas out of my head. If that means it's just some kind of fucked up porn, then that's okay with me. I want it out of my head (but I want to entertain someone, even if it's just one person, at the same time)."
Well, time to another POV.
But first: 102>> 103>>
Please, really, please, don't say that, about the thing that he mentioned he was already raped, and how it make all the people who criticized negatively this fanfic look like the bad-guy-of-the-thread. I once criticized, telling basically what everybody is saying about the pointlessness of this fanfic a few months ago, he took it nicely, he didn't think i was bullying him and everything was fine. Please, don't give to this discussion a connotation it DOES NOT have.
And: please, everyone, have in mind it’s my opinion, and that I don’t want to be impolite, or to disrespectful with anywone
So, back to the another POV, hehe.
I love this story. I really, really like the raw sexual violence. I love violent, pointless porn, and I find these things very sexy. And I would love it more if it had more backstory and character development, but it doesn't, and i am okay with it, since I made the exactly same complain to him, including the part he told he wanted to make it “cerebral” and it didn’t turn like it, a few months ago; he responded me it was just random nonsensical ideas out of his head. He didn’t intend, so, to make it cerebral.
So, as you can see, the “mistery” is undone.
No, I’m not telling you guys to stop criticizing the fanfic the way you like to do. I agree with the opinions that complain that this fanfiction has no development, no story, no great characterizations and stuff, but I really had to say I cant' see the point of the same people keep talking about the same mistakes, over and over, like you guys claim you will all do, especially when the author already said it’s just pointless porn. I don’t understand, too, why is so hard to live with only a single little raw-rape-fanfic when there’s a lot of other type of fanfics around here, that ain’t hurting your conceptions of rape, assault, prejudice etc. And it’s far harder to understand why suddenly a person being insecure and upset about the criticism he is receiving an excuse to the whole forum come and start act like he has no right to do so, and, worse, say to him that he had “to suck it up, this is shit” and “deal with our opinion” when, as far as I concerned, he didn’t forced us to read it. But we want him to swallow being rudely treated, apparently, and to take it nicely. You guys want discuss all this freely and productively? Want to change the persons mind about handle criticism in a more mature way, and to rearrange the fanfiction development? I sincerely guess this is not the right way to do so.
Futhermore, I am totally into the "don't like, don't read" thing. Why it does not make sense? It does, especially because you guys don't own the fandom, you guys can't say how Spy, Sniper, Saxton Hale, etc really act and expect the other people around the fandom to think exactly like you do towards a character. Meet thes? Comics? They are short, and barely show clues about the characters, and are pretty comical. Good to help ya form an idea of the character, but this is subjective, it’s something from your imagination. Sincerely, I can totally picture Engineer, for example, as a soulless rapist - and, being closest to the game's headstory as possible, as a somewhat charming, polite and misleading sociopath who likes to kill - and what i found completely hard to buy is he being the good-texan-boy who secretly doesn’t mind to be disrespected and to hear other people problems like the nice-friend-type that almost the whole fandom thinks he is. I think it’s totally right not being able to read fanfics that claim Sniper is the nicest guy around just because he talks about politeness and professional standards of respect in his Meet the, and don’t really feel the need to tell it to the person, since who am I to say that “nooo, Sniper, inside my mind, is a sadistic killer that comes with this ‘it’s a job not a mental disease(lol hilarious!)’ shit to excuse his obsessions, like almost 90% of the sociopaths do, so you can’t’ do it to the character, stop write this fanfic, makes no sense”, you know. What I think is not necessarily canon, so I can’t say these to people (especially because will practically kill any romantic gay porn around: sociopaths don’t feel love and empathy, hehe.)
If you guys can't deal with it, like someone up there said - that he doesn't think the characters they "know" and love can be showed as monsters, and the person who does like this have to endure being criticized because of his different pov (which naturally includes me. I write very hard core rape porn with these characters you all love… even if it’s good wrote, you guys will be harsh with me?)- i suggest everyone around here go to the mods to put a huge signal at the first page: "Beware that we don't like people who portrait the TF2 characters like this: yadda yadda yadda. We only support artists that characterize them like this (insert the list you guys can stand here). And if we don’t like the style and the development, even if it’s well done, we’ll totally read it abyway and say for you to stop.
Because apparently, then, we will have to shut our mouths up if someone shows around here saying "None of this story are good, they all suck because, in them, they are gay and fuck each other, and there is no clue that this is canon" since he can totally say whatever he wants, right? He have to read it since it's public, and we can't tell him not to just because he doesn't like gay porn. And it's not completely if they are straight or not in the game, so, makes sense as criticism…
Sincerely go totally ahead, and I agree and support, with the polite criticism against the reasonable points: lack of development, characters to much shallow, etc. As some good soul remembered up there, we have the rights to say why we do like, and Mr. Egg had his rights to post it, whatever if it’s good or not.
Please, really, stop with this we-can’t-picture-like-this-therefore-this-story-sucks thing and these we-will-push-you-to-the-edge-until-you-learn-our-way-to-do-things, please.
I sincerely hope some of you guys act with this opinion of mine differently from how you acted with Egg. I’m being polite, I guess, and what i said up there is really what I think not only about this story, but about the whole discussion. I expect I am make myself clear without offend anyone around here.
And don't i deserve a medal for my balls?! I mean, I’m totally with the bad sadists pyromaniac-rapists to feel good again and still go FAPFAPFAP forever, happily and freely to this story! Sorry...it's just it's hard to take myself too seriously in a heated discussion about...PORN. LOL So, guys, relax... a person with supposedly bad writing inside a game fandom is not that worrying, you know.
(Oh, yeah. Sorry about the bad english...)("DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ" IS NEVER A VALID ARGUMENT TO IGNORE CRITICISM.)
Sorry again, i divided the comment because i thought it wouldn't support all the text.
Anyway...keep going, Egg. I'm here, feeling entertained, as i said, and enjoying your piece of work. And i'm totally into this therapy thing, since it's a pratice i support and studied, hehe (talk about health...).
(And i am pretty curious of what will be of Scout and Pyro's relationship...i hope they will combine forces.)
First of all, the chan has always held a high standard; part of what makes it so unique is that you are expected to handle criticisms and utilize them to improve your work. Falling back on 'don't like, don't read' completely takes away the purpose of posting it here. Might as well post it on y-gal, DA, LJ, tumblr, or aff.net if criticisms aren't something you care about.
The characters in TF2 are given some personality in the videos and the comics, but it's in gameplay itself that the rest of their character is fleshed out.
Namely, they all work together and like working together.
So how is it logical that seven of the nine would all have the exact same personality of "I love vaginas and there is one on the team so therefore I will rape the vagina no matter what"? Do they all just smile while they work all day, all of them relying on the Pyro to spycheck and the Scout to deal out tons of damage and quickly obtain objectives without any complaint? Their bosses see nothing wrong? There is no hit in quality of teamwork or cohesion due to the rapes?
Put it this way: ever played a round of TF2 with only 9 players on your team, one of each class? You notice immediately if someone isn't doing their part, and a disorganized team loses very quickly. So are they raping Pyro and Scout, going out into the battlefield, and then somehow both of them still operate exceptionally?
They don't make sense because their job requires them to work together, meaning that somehow RED managed to hire SIX rapists who literally immediately grab anyone with a vagina and violently molest and assault them over and over again. Hell, even Scout calls upon his inner rapist to join in. The improbability of it rises even further when you realize that all six are from radically different backgrounds. So, what, the six best mercenaries they could find were all horrible, violent rapists? They didn't do a background check or a psych eval on these guys? They just figured "six strong, brutal rapists, a young man, a drunk scot, and an ftm who still has a vagina" would turn out fine and there would never be any problems at all?
Basically, it's making 6 charismatic, likeable, humorous characters all behave in the EXACT same way, with nothing to tie them to their world besides their names and Respawn. Soldier and Sniper behave in the same way, with Sniper even breaking his own rules about professionalism by attempting to assault Pyro on the battlefield. Engineer starts out as being the same as Sniper and Soldier, too, then radically changes to extreme sadomasochism. Scout went from being actually in character as being somewhat virginal in his inexperience with sex and his approach to it to actually being constantly raped as well and being a complete coward that is scared of everyone and does whatever they say. Medic could be excused, although he's lacking any of his Schadenfreude and complete joviality in the name of being Generic Villain 1. Heavy is somehow the 'gentle rapist', and somehow manages to be the least fleshed out or explained out of the entire set of rape-robots. Spy could possibly be explained, although how Scout could so easily mimic him really seems to call out for some form of fleshing out on his character. The reason for Demoman being excluded just helps to iron in that the characters don't matter; you could replace all of their names, what they do for a living, and the setting and nothing would change.
There's simply nothing that makes this a TF2 story.
First, i had to clarify for you that i think it's pretty clear in my first comment that i totally support criticism, and that i never said i didn't care for opinions. The "don't like don't read" term i said i agreed is completely about personal pov and individual imagination, that some people don't understand that it's not a good argument to be against an story. It will be clear down there, I hope.
Well, basically, if it hadn't been like that (coordinated work and strategy), there wouldn't have the gameplay and the game itself, hehe! Their camaraderie, using your example, is one point that it's probably pretty canon, of course, in my opinion; but it can be forgotten, too. Not only because is something more with the gameplay than with the backstory of the game, but if the author wants to. At least, a lot of fanfictions don't explores this*, as well as the alleged deep coordination during battle, and not because of lazyness or stuff, but because they wanted not to, and the story had gone pretty nice, making sense and everything.
And i think that if we stuck completely to some aspects of the game backstory, there will be no freedom to work, especially with gay porn(oh lord): or you can picture Spy and Sniper fucking happily and loudly, drinking wine and using fluffy handcuffs, in the middle of the night in a base full of military men armed to the teeth, and at the 60's years, and the only reaction of the guys in the next rooms is complain about the noise(oh lord, this is so ridiculous, i am laughing right now.And i would read it.)? ... by the way, we can assume, by the comics, that their bosses don't mind if they explode themselves everyday and hate each other, in fact, i think they probably will prefer it like that, as long as they don't develop any friendship, any love... oh, so, i just killed another thousand more of fanfictions. Sowiie.
More, if someone manage to make a gay couple story work while respecting all these points i have made at the same time, it would be pretty nice, as much as one that is well made and it is not stuck with them.
Beyond that, put it in - like you guys insist to do, and not to drop some aspects for the sake of the fanfiction's objetive: fuck-fuck-rape-fuck-fapfapfap - "real life", real sociopaths would work together if it mean to, inside the game's mytologhy: stay alive, have money to survive and by the same time do something they like, which is to kill the way it pleases them, what is somethin' for me that's far more clear than Scout's stupidity, for example - apparently, for some people, you can't be young and abuse bad language without being...dumb. But it's something acceptable, that can be canon, or it cannot, can be used for the sake of the fanfiction's development, when i like the work etc etc (and there we go again, to the subjective POVs and personal opinions towards something of the game).
Talking about "real life"...i guess it's redudant to say that the game is not stuck with reality, too, for the sake of bloody, nice fun - and only for it. The game does not, why exactly the authors would have, too, always, all the time?
Then, complain poletely about the fact that, inside his fanfiction, they are all behaving pretty much the same, that the story does not looks like TF2 and that they have shallows characterizations is completely acceptable and it makes total sense.
But i remain with the argument that just the gameplay, Meet the's and the comics aren't enough to build one single way of see the characters, and therefore expect everyone to go with it; see them like Egg does, like i do, like you explained (a very good pov, by the way, i would read a fanfic with such pov)it's still okay - it still can be a somewhat reasonable. Different perspectives are completely acceptable and not an excuse to criticize a story because of it.
*please, don't ask for examples. I can give to ya, of course, if you insist, but i avoid using names in my comments(i don't find it ethical). And maybe you have come across with some fanfictions like this and you may have liked it.
(Sorry about the bad english)
Can we either put this to rest or lock the thread please? This drama should've been put to rest a long time ago.(USER WAS BANNED FOR NOT READING THE THREAD)
let's just put it this way - we wouldn't be okay with a fic that has someone fucking the demoman whilst repeatedly calling him a nigger, so unsurprisingly, we're not okay with this. it's not sexy, it's not enjoyable, it's just fucked up - let's wipe this shit off the chan and get on with our lives.(USER WAS ALSO TEMPBANNED FOR NOT READING THE THREAD)
I love rape fanfiction, and i find this one pretty sexy. I love to read about raw, senseless violence.
"Incredibly", i never touch a single human being (trans or not) and i don't have prejudice against any type gender choices.
So, would you wipe me off from the face of earth? So, you don't have to deal with my terrible existence? Of "people like me"?
I sincerely hope no moderator accepts your suggestion.
(Sorry about the bad english)
The mods won't ban you for liking this story, but they just might for your white knighting bullshit
Or also for the fact that iamError is 15 fucking years old and was already banned. As soon as I figure out how to do this on the /fanfic/ boards, I'm permabanning them again.
I'm also thinking about tempbanning you two because you clearly didn't read what I said earlier: this thread is not getting locked just because you or anyone else hates the content. This goes the same for everyone else. Voice your concerns constructively, or at least keep it civil. Don't cry for locks that will not happen short of the author throwing a bitchfit.
Corrections must be made to the previous post:
iamError is not underage, the previous underage ban was made in error and the ban has been changed to reflect that.
Bans: 3 days for iamError for a different reason, easily found if you scroll up, as well as 1 day each for the lock/delete cries after I specifically said not to make any more.
Hello all. I apologize for my delayed response. Before I address individual posts, I would like to say something. A lot of criticism regards plot threads that have begun but not finished yet. Many have taken this to mean that I am lazy, but I assure you that is not the case. They are merely threads that have not been answered yet. Does that make sense? I really hope it does.
Also, this is long as hell, but I learned a lot while writing it (whatever that's worth).
If anyone wants to talk to me directly about any of this, feel free to email me. My email is: firstname.lastname@example.org
I respect your opinion, but I would like to understand how you feel comfortable criticizing something that you admit that you haven't read even a tenth of. As for the "cerebral" part, I clearly stated in >63 that this is not meant to be anything more than it seems.
"it makes me feel a bit better to know that I'm not the only one who was creeped the fuck out by this story and its ilk."
There is absolutely nothing wrong with being weirded out by these kinds of subjects. It's an ugly and sickening thing.
Could you please explain exactly how this story okays rape? This is completely unintentional and I want to change it.
"no excuse as to WHY everyone is being abusive sex-driven animalistic rape machines."
Is there ever an excuse? People rape for no reason and without provocation all the time. If anything, the lack of an "excuse" makes it more legitimate, does it not?
Please see >63.
Also, I disagree with the two columns. Who is exhibiting signs of Stockholm and how? Pyro clearly rebels from Medic and the others (he shot Spy/Sniper/Engineer and broke Sniper's shoulder at one point), and he has neer been okay with what was happening. Physical sensation and mental acceptance are not the same thing.
Do you consider Spy, Scout and Heavy to be mindless rape machines? And if so, why?
I freely admit that I was unsure whether or not to involve the administration. I thought it might be dumb, so I didn't. I will definitely work it in now. Also, how would you suggest to make the characters more like themselves?
"instead of crossing your arms and essentially telling people to go to hell ("don't like don't read" and "la la la I can't hear you""
In my defense, the posts were quite aggressive and arguably more rude than they were actual crit. It was hard to push my emotions aside and respond properly, and I apologize for that. My reaction was far from the best, and I own that entirely.
Could you please indicate the incorrect punctuation? Is it a specific instance, or is it a constant thing?
"these characters have absolutely no root in reality."
Why don't they? How can I root them to reality?
" this story wasn't worth my time reading. It wasn't before and it isn't now."
I don't mean this to sound assholish, and it probably will come off that way, but if it's not worth your time then why exactly have you taken the time to read it and respond?
"Quite frankly I shouldn't have been the one to initiate this and this should have happened a long fucking time ago."
I agree with you 100%. I wish people had expressed their opinions earlier.
I like the hat analogy, it makes a lot of sense. Also, please see >63.
"It is simply rude and offensive to force others to take unwilling part in your therapy." Even if that was what I was doing, I would not be "forcing" anyone to read this fic.
Yeah, you're right. I should have expected such a... lively reaction. This is a pretty ugly story. It was meant to be ugly. Rape is an ugly thing.
Pyro's genitals are frequently referred to, I admit, but what else can I do? Would simply not mentioning them at all be confusing or weird?
As for my initial response to all of this, forgive me for being a little worked up. Some of the things that were said were... rather upsetting. In my opinion, I think some of those things crossed the line between criticism and insults.
" this fic seems centered on how good it feels and how Pyro is utterly helpless to do anything besides let them constantly rape him."
Pyro has fought back, he has shot Spy, killed Sniper and Engineer, and broken Sniper's shoulder. A far cry from being utterly helpless, I'd say.
"the author's response was "if you don't like it, don't read it, I'm posting it as is with no changes at all until it's finished". That shit's normally tackled ten times over as an obnoxious excuse, but instead it was given a thumbs up."
At the time this was posted, not a single person supported my response, so I don't understand where the thumbs up comes from.
"this much White Knighting."
... There was one person.
"This story could have their names cut out, Respawn removed, and you could literally apply it to any other fandom in the world. Or give it original characters. "
Couldn't one do that with pretty much any story though?
"no one has a motive."
Most rapists don't.
"Even though they had no problem apparently fucking the scout prior to that. "
Only Engineer and Sniper had been fucking Scout.
You guys are right, the sex is pretty gratuituous. I think I figured out why I do that. When I figure out a story, I lay out all the major events like one might lay out beads. The tricky part is ordering the events and then connecting them. I have a very hard time connecting the beads, but I don't want to NOT work on it, so I write filler fucking. Does that make sense?
Yeah, my response was really shitty. I own that 100% and explained it above.
1) I will definitely work the administration thing into the edit of this. I considered doing it, but I thought it might be stupid so I didn't.
Pyro has fought back, he has shot Spy, Sniper and Engineer for goodness' sake. He also broke Sniper's shoulder. Destroying the respawn room is a great idea though, would you mind if I adapted that into this fic?
2) Please see >63.
3) What are these excuses and rationalizations that you're referring to? So many have expressed this same thing and I want to know why. What is being done wrong?
Thank you for actually reading the thread.
Thank you, I'm glad that you have been entertained.
You're right, the teamwork aspect really does need to be addressed.
For the record, Scout did not "call upon his inner rapist". He was forced to partake, as is later revealed in Part 10. For those who would say "you always have a choice", I ask you to consider something. Imagine you were in Scout's place and there were two larger, stronger men who had raped you previously ordering you to fuck whatever poor bastard they caught. While there were other, equally imposing men present. Would you resist and take that punishment, or would you go the easy route? Think about it. Yeah, Scout has acted cowardly. Can you honestly blame him? He has all these macho misconceptions, how could he not be radically affected by repeated sexual assault? Any creature will do damn near anything to make the pain stop, no matter how immoral/terrible it may be.
Sniper and Soldier behave the same way? No, Soldier is way more violent and Sniper is... more of a perv. I guess I didn't make that clear enough. Oh, and Sniper didn't attempt to assault Pyro on the field. I thought it was apparent that that was the BLU Spy, considering he knifed Pyro in the back.
In the next part, we will learn exactly why Scout disguised as Spy.
"if we stuck completely to some aspects of the game backstory, there will be no freedom to work"
Uh, your protagonist seeks out and crawls into bed with one of his primary assailants for bedtime snuggle-cuddles and is happy as a clam. I’m no fancy head doctor and I’m not diagnosing fictional characters with anything but gimme a freakin’ break.
I actually filed your Scout under the ‘feeble sex slave’ category. I’m not sure what you were trying to prove by naming your Spy and your Heavy as examples, because this is how this fic has read:
Character A (and B) is tortured by characters C through H. C through H are largely interchangeable, with some variations in torture methods. This variation in torture—the defining character action—is the primary thing distinguishing D from F etc., and the only non-rape feature separating these characters are phonetic accents in dialogue.
They exist solely to torture the protagonist. That’s it. That’s all there is to them. I’m going back to your explanation about Demoman here: “Every other class I can see as possibly being a real person, with real feelings and real thoughts." There is absolutely nothing of that in these characters.
Character action--whether it’s frying an egg or brutalizing a coworker--requires motive. Just signing it off as characters doing things “for no reason” is extremely lazy and doesn’t fly in the most basic writing, let alone something as sticky and heavy-handed as this fic tries to be.
I see you've attempted to do some armchair psychology with A and B in the comments but that shit doesn't sail when C, D, E, F, G, and H act "for no reason".
Broken down into it’s simplest form, this is the story:
Conflict: “Protagonist is being raped”
Protagonist Objective: “not getting raped (by Antagonist)”
Antagonist Objective: “raping Protagonist”
Dramatic Action: ??????
I also want to note that the very fact you’re treating rape scenes as ‘filler’ speaks volumes. I’m not certain about what, but it really struck me as bizarre in a very bad way.
P.S.: If you’re not into black dudes, just say so. Using any kind of literary basis to justify Demoman’s exclusion from what is basically an extended rape fantasy is ridiculous. It’s the least problematic aspect of this story but it’s been bugging me.
And here I was thinking I would abstain from shit-flinging. Alas, the pipes are calling.
“ lot of criticism regards plot threads that have begun but not finished yet. Many have taken this to mean that I am lazy, but I assure you that is not the case. They are merely threads that have not been answered yet.”
The problem isn’t that we haven’t seen where you’re going with an idea. The problem is that you’ve given us no reason to believe that you’re going anywhere good with it. We’ve seen a very consistent pattern of shallow characters with shallow motivations, actions and event sequences that don’t make any sense—for what sane reason should we expect that it’s all miraculously going to get better if we just keep reading?
If you want to employ subplots that won’t make sense until later on, that’s fine. But in the meantime you’ve got to keep us convinced that you’re going somewhere with this. You need credibility. The things that don’t make sense yet should be utterly overwhelmed by the things that make sense immediately. If the vast majority of the things you’ve written thus far appear to have reason and purpose, then we’ll give you the benefit of the doubt on the couple of things we’re not sure about. Instead of saying, “Your Sniper is a one-sided rape machine,” we’ll say, “Please keep writing because I’m dying to find out why your Sniper is acting like a one-sided rape machine.”
“I would like to understand how you feel comfortable criticizing something that you admit that you haven't read even a tenth of.”
Grabbing your readers and keeping them interested is part of your job. You failed to keep Cat Bountry interested, and Cat Bountry was kind enough to tell you why. *He doesn’t need to read your entire story to know why the first chapter made him decide to quit. It hardly matters how the story ends, anyway, if you can’t get readers to keep reading.
“Pyro's genitals are frequently referred to, I admit, but what else can I do? Would simply not mentioning them at all be confusing or weird?”
You would refer to them in a way that a transman would prefer: As infrequently as possible whilst still making sense, and in a very unflattering tone. You’ve got plenty of options for talking about Pyro’s genitalia, from the very sterile approach [“My vagina,”] to the abrasive [“My goddamned motherfucking cunt, damnit,”] to complete rejection [“That thing between my legs,”] and everything in between. In fact really the only thing that isn’t acceptable is talking about it like it’s beautiful or… quivering and velvety or whatever it was you were calling it. Write about it like it’s a hideous deformation, because to Pyro, that’s more or less what it is.
” Could you please explain exactly how this story okays rape? This is completely unintentional and I want to change it.”
You portray rape in a gratuitous way, describing it in pornographic language and stretching it out long beyond the point of necessity or believability. You’ve chosen to portray rapists with the identities of characters originally designed to be lighthearted and endearing. Apparently six out of nine lighthearted and endearing people are rapists. Or was it seven out of nine? I lost count. You’ve chosen to portray rape victims as complacent fools, overlooking countless opportunities to escape, without so much as a handwave as to why those opportunities for escape aren’t taken.
“ Is there ever an excuse? People rape for no reason and without provocation all the time. If anything, the lack of an "excuse" makes it more legitimate, does it not?”
Rapists most certainly donot “rape for no reason.” There are always reasons. Terrible reasons, yes. Sometimes the reasons are so bad that even the rapist doesn’t want to admit to having them. But there are still reasons. Especially for rapists who otherwise function quite normally. They have to rationalise it somehow, if they're going to live with themselves.
“Who is exhibiting signs of Stockholm and how?”
Quothe the Author:
“Pyro sighed, strangely content despite his intrinsic hatred for the man. Nothing hurt. Instead he was cuddled in warm, soft sheets that smelled like Medic’s aftershave.
‘I knew you were a good boy,’ Medic murmured to him and kissed the top of his head, kissed his cheek, kissed his lips chastely. Pyro let his body relax into the soft mattress. So, so much better than the hard metal tables in respawn.”
“…if it's not worth your time then why exactly have you taken the time to read it and respond?”
Because lawlspy is a nice person, and was willing to sacrifice *his time to read your story and give you feedback in order to help you improve, even though the story wasn’t for him. That’s normal behaviour in healthy writing communities.
“ Pyro has fought back, he has shot Spy, killed Sniper and Engineer, and broken Sniper's shoulder. A far cry from being utterly helpless, I'd say.”
It’s rather helpless for a guy who has a flamethrower, a contract, legal rights, nine enemy mercenaries who would love to help him kill his rapists, and no particular fear of dying. It’s one thing to be raped, and another thing entirely to hang around in a place where you’ve been raped before and know you’ll be raped again, working alongside people who have raped you before and who will rape you again. Even if he can’t escape, he’s still a professional killer, who presumably sends dozens of people to respawn on a given working day—is breaking a shoulder and killing a few people really the best fight he can muster?
“Couldn't one do that with pretty much any story though?”
No. Good God No. And if you think you can replace the Spy in “Our Lost Kingdoms” with Mr. Bean, or the Scout in “Diaries are For Wimps” with John Rambo with no negative effects, there’s your problem. A good story only works if each character has the specific traits necessary to fulfil their role in that story.
*All pronouns are fuck I don’t care it’s Team Fortress everything is masculine.
There's no psychological consistency. People simply don't react in this fashion, especially in a hypermasculine, homophobic environment that has been set up. You've basically reduced each and every one of the characters to being mouthpieces of rape culture. There's the hapless victim and the bland, rationalizing frenzy of the rapists. This is basically Schrodinger's Rapist covered with a TF2 skin. You've introduced some ambiguity with Scout, but other then that it's not even mindless rape fic. It's a very roundabout way of justifying what's going on.
Rapists have psychology. They have reasons. There is a pattern that develops. Nobody does anything for no reason, much less 8 others get together and decide to have a rape party. Yes, there's group mentality, but to simply disregard the structure of rape and how and why it happens is bad writing. You've lost credibility as a writer. We, as the audience, don't believe you because now you look like you don't know what you're talking about, and then the entire subject matter has no emotional impact. It's just bad.
Because I spotted people talking about this and gave an honest critique. What disturbs me is that you appear to have no intention of dealing with these problems. People are expected to stop by, leave love and affirmation and sometimes a wee bit of critique, and be on their way. Any concrit is rejected and the story marches forward without improvement. Even this post attempts to rationalize away the problems that are pointed out. I don't know what else you want from us. This story is in trouble and needs a serious overhaul if you want to get better. It's not going to come out of the chan unscathed.
(And thank you, Anon.)
Pyro did go to Medic that night, but it was for a reason that I more or less forgot to explain. Yeah, it was lazy and bad writing, I agree. The main thing is he didn't want to get in trouble when Medic found him, with the doors unlocked, in the morning. Obviously he couldn't have locked the doors back up from the inside. I guess he did kind of snuggle-cuddle. I will fix this.
I named Spy and Heavy because they aren't quite as mindless... but yeah, they still are, aren't they. Well fuck.
"I also want to note that the very fact you’re treating rape scenes as ‘filler’ speaks volumes. I’m not certain about what, but it really struck me as bizarre in a very bad way."
Yes, we have established that I am fucked in the head.
P.s. It's not because he's black. I'm surprised it took this long for someone to say it though.
"Shit flinging": I intentionally asked these questions because I want to know how to make this better. I can't make it better unless I know exactly what's wrong. The things you said are not shit-flinging (in my opinion); they are exactly what I asked for and I thank you for fulfilling my request.
"The problem is that you’ve given us no reason to believe that you’re going anywhere good with it. We’ve seen a very consistent pattern of shallow characters with shallow motivations, actions and event sequences that don’t make any sense—for what sane reason should we expect that it’s all miraculously going to get better if we just keep reading?"
You have an excellent point and I understand completely. That whole paragraph answers a LOT of my questions.
"Grabbing your readers and keeping them interested is part of your job."
Again, I agree. I'm not mad that Cat Bountry said those things, I just wish it had been... not so mean, I guess. (I'm an insecure little shit.)
"Write about it like it’s a hideous deformation, because to Pyro, that’s more or less what it is. "
Agreed. A lot of what you wrote makes complete sense and answers my questions entirely.
"They have to rationalise it somehow, if they're going to live with themselves."
... I didn't think about it that way. I never really thought about the POV of the rapist because... well, rape is terrible and ugly and I can't comprehend how one COULD rationalize it, even to themselves.
"“Who is exhibiting signs of Stockholm and how?”
Well damn. That would be pretty much classic Stockholm, wouldn't it. I was trying to portray that the situation didn't suck as much as it could have, and Pyro was relieved about it.
"Because lawlspy is a nice person, and was willing to sacrifice *his time to read your story and give you feedback in order to help you improve, even though the story wasn’t for him. That’s normal behaviour in healthy writing communities."
That answers my question completely.
"is breaking a shoulder and killing a few people really the best fight he can muster?"
No, I guess it really isn't.
"A good story only works if each character has the specific traits necessary to fulfil their role in that story."
I didn't mean the actual characters, I meant the names. Technically, couldn't one change the names in any story and make it apply to any other fandom?
"You've basically reduced each and every one of the characters to being mouthpieces of rape culture. There's the hapless victim and the bland, rationalizing frenzy of the rapists."
I see that now and understand.
"Yes, there's group mentality, but to simply disregard the structure of rape and how and why it happens is bad writing."
You are right, you are so right I want to punch myself in the face for being such a shit.
"What disturbs me is that you appear to have no intention of dealing with these problems. People are expected to stop by, leave love and affirmation and sometimes a wee bit of critique, and be on their way. Any concrit is rejected and the story marches forward without improvement. Even this post attempts to rationalize away the problems that are pointed out."
No man, I have asked all of these questions because I WANT to know how to take care of these problems. Like I said above, I'm kind of an idiot and need to know exactly why people feel the way they do about something so that I can properly and completely address it.
You guys are right. Now that things have been explained more fully, I completely understand why this is considered so terrible. It, well, it is. It is terrible and makes no goddamn sense. I want to thank those who have responded, and I want to thank those who may respond in the future in advance. This is really helping me and damnit, this story will be fixed.
THIS I VOW.
Alright, well here's some resources for you to draw from. This can be triggering.
-This is a youtube video of a FTM trans talking about rape culture. Might be triggering to some people.
-Quick, unofficial blurb about types of rapists
Youtube video about the rape of men--especially in war.
My comment about you designating your rape scenes as filler wasn’t a jab at you or a comment about you being, as you put it, “fucked in the head”. I’ve had more time to examine this and rape scenes as filler presents two problems:
1) It designates the story as almost entirely filler. You have been using the comments as footnotes to explain glaring flaws and confusing aspects of the story much too frequently. If you’re legitimately trying to tighten up this fic and grow as a writer, you need to focus on integrating these clarifications into the story rather than falling back on gratuitous porn and then backtracking post-chapter. Thus far the fic is essentially a slew of porn scenes very loosely tied together with some shoehorned plot points, and if the porn scenes are filler then it makes for an extremely insubstantial story. It's weak writing at a fundamental level.
2) It’s a very poor handling of the material. You have said yourself that you intend the rape in this story to be ugly and uncomfortable, but the pornographic core of the writing combined with the gratuitous (and, frankly, masturbatory) tone of the rape scenes are not conductive in achieving that. The way you have written the scenes thus far do not lend them any kind of gravity other than sheer squick factor. Your treatment of such a hugely charged subject matter as rape comes across as clumsy at best and callously oblivious at worst, and that rustles the hell out of a lot of folk's jimmies.
I think it’s really important to acknowledge that people rape. Real life, breathing, complicated people are rapists. Flattening out your villains and making them one-dimensional and inhuman not only pushes this story into the land of bizarre porn fantasy, it also seriously devalues the real-life horror of sexual assault. I think that devaluation, intentional or not, is where a lot of the hatred for this fic stems from. Saying that “most rapists don’t" have motive does the opposite of legitimize the gratuitous rape in the context of this story. If you’re trying to give this fic any kind of depth, that’s not the direction you want to go.
Anyway. From what I have read you struggle with achieving the correct tone for your scenes and communicating your characters’ motives, so it would be wise to work on that and resist the temptation to devote yet another paragraph or ten to pornographic detail. You also seem to assume that individual characters are totally interchangeable with generalized archetypes. I'm not quite sure how to clarify this extremely important distinction but hopefully someone else will address it.
I hope some of this will be useful to you.
"A good story only works if each character has the specific traits necessary to fulfil their role in that story."
I didn't mean the actual characters, I meant the names. Technically, couldn't one change the names in any story and make it apply to any other fandom?
That's shitty fan fiction writing, and that's terrible.
I was as mean as I was because I was honestly that disgusted. Your fic is bad and you should feel bad. I'm glad you're finally starting to come around to that because JESUS CHRIST.
It should be saying something that I've read some of the most vile and depraved fan fiction the internet has to offer and this is what made me feel sick to my stomach. Hell, I have written some depraved fan fiction. I have written fic that made people physically ill. But I didn't aim for that right out of the starting gate, 'cause nobody would have read it. I've even used fic to work through some of my own personal trauma without alienating my potential audience.
I honestly have no idea how you're going to save this aside from maybe making this into "I Spit on Your Grave" except with Pyro in it and even then it wouldn't feel right because the characters doing the rape are ones that everybody on this board have become understandably attached to.
Unless maybe it was like, Pyro captured by the other team.
I don't know, man.
What would happen if the other team find out what is happening to Pyro? What would they do?
An "I Spit on your Grave" ending to this would be the only thing close to a satisfying resolution to the steaming shit-wreck of a story this has been so far, and that would still continue it on the path of being exploitative garbage.
If you haven't already, it might be worth your while to bring this to workshop and then post another thread with the rewrite.
Oh look! Back to normal again. Good. I already reported the >>120 post, by the way. So, back to work.
“Rapists most certainly do not 'rape for no reason.' There are always reasons. Terrible reasons, yes. Sometimes the reasons are so bad that even the rapist doesn’t want to admit to having them. But there are still reasons. Especially for rapists who otherwise function quite normally. They have to rationalise it somehow, if they're going to live with themselves.”
“’Who is exhibiting signs of Stockholm and how?’
Quothe the Author:
‘Pyro sighed, strangely content despite his intrinsic hatred for the man. Nothing hurt. Instead he was cuddled in warm, soft sheets that smelled like Medic’s aftershave. ‘”
I have read everything around here: the good, reasonable and well-explained criticism, even the rude comments retorting the author, aaa(…)aaand even the parts with the same old lame critic that is the i-can't-picture-my-fav-characters-like-this-the-only-headcanon-acceptable-is-my-pov-therefore-this-fanfiction-sucks type of complain (and, btw, i'm sick to explain why this is nonsense as a criticism. If you want to wake up for life and notice why, please go to >>107 and >>110).
But these phrases took my attention especially because I have a pretty good notion of psychology (1 1/2 years of college + by individual hobby assisted by a psychologist and an almost-graduate academic), so here it go:
To >>121: even though a good amount of rapist have suffered some kind of physical and/or mental abuse. It's not uncommon, whatever, to cases of rape remain at the field of pure genetic causes, due to unknown expression of some genes and the type of knowledge of the environment that they will produce in the rapist mind, which have nothing to do "rationalization to live comfortably, excusing, to himself, his sick behavior", simple because people like these ones I’m explaining about - sociopaths - does not have functional mental structures that computes notions of any form of society, of respect, empathy or that make differentiations between good and bad. They live for what experts call the Pleasure Principle: They do what make them feel good, impulsively, immediately and without mentalizing it in a way where they'll excuse themselves using notions of society, ethics, morality etc etc. They don't care to any notion of good or bad behavior, or to look for excuse to make them feel good with themselves, mentally. They live only and exclusively to satisfy their pleasures.
If you going to make your reasons inside the scientific field and base your criticism in it, please, do some research first or consult experts, otherwise you will talk – i'm sorry the sincerity – bullshit. And the chances of other ignorant people believe you are quite big.
IMPORTANT: Btw, it's a pretty dangerous notion to yourself to think that only people who had traumatic childhoods or experiences - "reasons" - will hurt/abuse you physically or mentally. Please, beware of it, for your own safety. Aside fanfics, criticism and shit, be CAREFUL.
To >>121: this is not a secure example of Stockholm Syndrome. Especially because it’s clear in the fanfic and even in this little detached sentence, that what Pyro is showing is conscious – meaning: he planned to act like this, he had an idea to survive, it was deliberated, to escape the violence, have food, place to sleep, etc – signs of defense. In the phrase, it’s clear that Pyro hates Medic, but he is submitting deliberately to his whims to have what he wants, to be secure.
The Stockholm Syndrome is characterized for be an unconscious defense mechanism, where the person really believes that his assaulter is a good person, and creates thoughts where he excuse the assaulters behavior, in a illusory mental state to detach himself of the stressful situation. It’s not on purpose, it’s not conscious.
If you believe there’s signs of SS in the fanfic, well…guess we should take another look through it because this does not shows it.
Everyone, please, feel free to ask (politely) any other thing about psychology, physiology, semiology or Zelda games. I'll be glad to try my best to enlighten you. And, too, have in mind that with this post I just wanted, basically, to clarify you guys.
Rape with background is disturbingly more delicious. I'll look forward to this.
I really wanna see, btw, if you’re going to start another brand new one, rewrite completely this one or start the changes from the next chapter.
(And sorry about the bad english)
Thank you for the links. I've been doing my own research as well, to try and understand that.
"My comment about you designating your rape scenes as filler wasn’t a jab at you or a comment about you being, as you put it, “fucked in the head”."
I didn't take it that way, I was presenting a fact. I'd post a smiley face to convey that I'm not upset about it, but that's not allowed.
"I think it’s really important to acknowledge that people rape. Real life, breathing, complicated people are rapists."
It is hard to imagine someone willingly doing it without being a flat monster... but that is what research is for.
"I'm not quite sure how to clarify this extremely important distinction but hopefully someone else will address it. "
The action of pointing it out helps me way more than you may ever realize.
I don't think it's possible for me to explain myself in an understandable way across the internet. Bah. Also, you reminded me of Zoidberg. YOUR MUSIC IS BAD AND YOU SHOULD FEEL BAD.
"It should be saying something that I've read some of the most vile and depraved fan fiction the internet has to offer and this is what made me feel sick to my stomach."
I'm actually kind of proud of this, in a sick way.
I am not doing an "I Spit on Your Grave" ending because this is going to be rewritten more or less entirely.
Not a clue.
Warm and fuzzies to you too, Anon. In case you did not notice, I am taking action to fix this.
Yup, that's what I'm going to do. Danke.
"this is not a secure example of Stockholm Syndrome. Especially because it’s clear in the fanfic and even in this little detached sentence, that what Pyro is showing is conscious – meaning: he planned to act like this, he had an idea to survive, it was deliberated, to escape the violence, have food, place to sleep, etc – signs of defense. In the phrase, it’s clear that Pyro hates Medic, but he is submitting deliberately to his whims to have what he wants, to be secure."
That is exactly what was supposed to be portrayed! Man, I'm glad that at least someone "got" it.
"I really wanna see, btw, if you’re going to start another brand new one, rewrite completely this one or start the changes from the next chapter."
I think it would be good to trash the majority of this, if not all of it completely, and start again.
Thank you again to those who have contributed. I am going to restart this and take it to the workshop as lawlspy suggested. You will see me again, someday, with something better. THIS I VOW.
I want, no, need you to research the Congo. This goes for EggWhites as well (adding the tag in to grab your attention since the latter of this is focused for you). Particularly in regards to rape.
It's a rather naive mindset to assume that rape is primarily used to get pleasure. Rape is power. It's a way to get power over someone else. In the Congo, for example, it is weaponized. You get a bunch of uneducated kids together and tell them to go fight, then tell them that raping a woman will give them a magic ability to win in fights. Some of them believe raping a virginal woman will cure AIDS. Some of them believe that is what women are for, and if they don't accept, you have to take what is yours. Some of them are clearly ashamed, while others proudly admit it because they know it's right.
That's one country in the world. One country in modern times. You have nine mercenaries from nine very different backgrounds in a different time period. Doing a bit of research into how each of their countries view rape, and sex in general, will give insight into how they would approach it.
Were any of them friends prior to this? It took little effort for them to all agree to join into RapetoberFest, but what about any prior relationships? If one of them was on friendly terms with Pyro and became a rapist because Pyro did not reciprocate deeper feelings, that would be interesting.
It was getting closer to Stockholm Syndrome with the Spy, if anyone, as Pyro kept thinking about how gentle Spy was and how much he wished he was with Spy in the beginning. With Medic it was more or less unconditional surrender.
There's actually a TeratoMarty fic that is springing to mind wherein Pyro rapes Medic; they do so by killing Medic over and over again every time he respawns until he submits. If Pyro were to really fight back, utilizing the mechanic of multiple fiery, agonizing deaths would be the way to go.
We essentially assume that people rape for pleasure because we can't see any other reason to do so. It could be that Pyro is doing so good on the battlefield that some of the team is jealous, and that they want to 'put 'her' in 'her' place'. It could even be that they aren't coordinated, and that Pyro is slowly being isolated as he realizes that the entire team is assaulting him and that he can't go to anyone for help due to his transgender body.
Those are just a few things I'm throwing out in the wind to mull over. Oh, and rape should be revolting. If at any point it sounds pleasurable or arousing and your intent is not to just be porn, it needs to be rewritten. The Engineer rape scene probably came closest to that, as did the scene with Scout being raped. When the pleasure is clearly secondary, and it's only being vocalized to the victim to further degrade them, that's when it's quite clearly rape. We should be squirming away but wanting to see what happens next. Will it be the entire team, or only half of the team? Will Pyro escape, or get revenge? Will justice be served, or will evil prevail?
You have absolutely nothing to be proud of unless you think writing a fan fiction worthy of being featured on Fan Fiction Friday is an accomplishment.
You win at worst fan fiction I've ever read, congratulations, here's a trophy shaped like a turd.
iamError you're an idiot and I hope I never meet you in real life you insufferable enabling twat.(CAT, THAT IS NOT CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM OR POLITE DEBATE.)
Ugh. I’m sorry that I ever brought “bizarre pseudo-Stockholm Syndrome” into this conversation. My background is not in psychology and I wasn’t intending every wannabe Dr Phil to nitpick over the term. The author failed to make the character’s motive clear, and I was grappling for a term to describe how out of place and contradictory the behavior was. As I’ve said before, I’m not trying to diagnose fictional characters with anything. Trying to do that would be wildly inappropriate in the context of this fic anyway. Ahem.
In your 1.5 years of college I’m sure you would have learned that sociopathic disorders manifest themselves through many behaviors and to varying degrees. Blanketing six characters as all having identical manifestations of a rare disorder—especially considering that they canonically come from extremely different backgrounds and have extremely different personalities—is ridiculous and your attempt at using this to defend glaring flaws in this story is laughable. Please don’t try to call bullshit on other people when you’re spouting it yourself.
The Psych 101 textbook blurbs don’t prove a thing. If anything they only highlight the fact that the author was oblivious to psychological nuance. You can’t excuse flimsy writing with “Well, the characters are sociopaths!” because they’re not even written as sociopaths. They’re not written as anything except vehicles of torture. Once again: fine for porn, awful for storytelling. To their credit the author seems to plan on addressing current weaknesses through rewrites or later chapters, so this whole discussion is likely not even relevant.
Last note: I wouldn’t go offering your services as any kind of authority on a subject after studying it for barely over a year.
I agree with you. Telling you the truth, it’s a pretty interesting subject to be put inside the game, in a fanfiction.
But the conceptions you told in any moment disagree with what I have explained. Especially because the mechanisms of rape in a war zone are different from the, let’s say, generic explanation of rape in societies that aren’t currently in war conflicts that was where I have more or less placed my explanations, to clarify to the person that violent behaviors in general not always nurture from traumatic events that the aggressor may have suffered, a thing that... i don’t exactly know why, but practically turned into a commom place. And the Pleasure Principle – an freundian term – can easily absorb the concept of rape for power. In fact, I don’t doubt there are types of sociopaths that seek the pleasure of submit someone, to get power over this person, and they do it via rape. And leaders that created the mechanisms of rape as weapon – sadly, largely spotted in war zones – are easily classified by experts as sociopaths.
Let’s not forget, too, that rape was a mechanism of the Evolution to perpetuate species, including ours. Unfortunately, we haven’t yet lost this genetic inclination of our genoma, which is a nuisance now, in terms of evolution. It’s completely useless now, in our society.
In TF2, I’m pretty sure we can apply the two conceptions. It’s just a matter of imagination, inspiration, knowledge and… not to be totally stuck to what supposedly is canon or not.
But I guess it was kinda my fault, too. I wasn’t too clear, perhaps, explaining about the technical aspects of what I have told. Sorry, I’m not that good in explaining things. Telling the truth, I’m now pretty sure of this thanks to this thread, hehe.
That awesome moment when you are discussing things politely and reasonably and the only thing people that are unable to retort correctly can do is “aaaw I hate you sooo much shut up aaaah die”. http://tinyurl.com/6txbcfn
But at least you say something that make sense every now and then (like, that I have a twat, hehe). The next step is to learn how to do it without sound like an over dramatic offense-launcher machine. Come on, it’s not that hard to evolve.
Calm down. In any point of the comment I just made, i am excusing the author. I just made some corrections in the pseudoscientific comments there are lurking around here. That's it. "And, too, HAVE IN MIND that with this post I JUST WANTED, basically, to clarify you guys." See?
Even though the characterizations could have been made as if they were sociopaths - and i think it would be nice, since is somewhat a headcanon of mine – it wasn't what i was discussing in the comment, especifically.
P.S: I didn’t say I’m an authority, just that I have a good notion and that I can help, if someone wants. There’s a huge difference. Btw, I’m assisted by an academic with 5 years of intense studies and a graduated professional with an approach of cognitive-behavioral. Are you sure you don’t want help? Hehe, it’s practically a free consulting.
Srsly, jokes aside…did you at least reached the middle of the comment? I thought I made myself pretty clear. Not sure if my English is that bad, too, or that I write in a strange way, I don’t know…
I must admit I’m having a hard time understanding you.
However, disregarding that, I want to comment on a couple of factual errors:
>It's not uncommon, whatever, to cases of rape remain at the field of pure genetic causes, due to unknown expression of some genes and the type of knowledge of the environment that they will produce in the rapist mind, which have nothing to do "rationalization to live comfortably, excusing, to himself, his sick behavior", simple because people like these ones I’m explaining about – sociopaths [...]
Sociopathy does not have a purely genetic aetiology. The actual diagnosis is Antisocial Personality Disorder (DSM-IV) or Dissocial Personality Disorder (ICD-10); ‘psychopathy’ and ‘sociopathy’ are not currently accepted medical terminology. Of the two laymen’s terms, however, psychopathy is the condition with a genetic basis (though it’s still multifactorial and triggered by environmental factors), whereas sociopathy is considered to be exclusively environmentally caused (childhood neglect or abuse, head trauma, etc.), hence the name, sociopathy.
>the mechanisms of rape in a war zone are different from the, let’s say, generic explanation of rape in societies that aren’t currently in war conflicts
Yes, war rape differs from ordinary rape in that it is a weapon of war used to terrorise and demoralise a conquered civilian population. And by this definition, what happens in this fic is not war rape—Pyro is on the same side as his rapists and they rape him because they enjoy overpowering and using him, not as a means to defeat the enemy team.
As for the rest of your arguments, particularly about rape as an evolutionary mechanism, suffice to say I disagree with you. I want to see a published article from a reputable source before I’m buying that one.
Are you sure you don’t want help? Hehe, it’s practically a free consulting.
Finally, this is the second time I’ve had to tell someone in this thread not to use mental disorders as a slur or insult. Suggesting, even as a joke, that another commenter is in need of therapy because their opinion differs from yours is NOT OKAY.
If I want "help" from a smug, half-informed, creepy, babbling moron on the internet, I'll let you know.
You know for somebody who insists they have knowledge of psychology you sure give off the impression that you actually don't have a very firm grasp on what you're talking about.
It seems IamError is more book-studied then anything,which, for a therapist, aside from getting your certification, doesn't go that far in helping people VS experience and various workshops that would take place outside of the college enviroment.(at least, according to the 4 or so therapists I've discussed the matter with, as I am interested in going into this field as well.)
I'm sorry but I fear for any future clients they take on.
I am really, really confused why that second >>132 comment is directed at me. I have maintained a calm, reasonable approach to this and that seemed bizarrely out of place. I'm going to assume that it was put in by mistake, or directed at someone else. Otherwise that's just rude.
I was using the 'war-rape' example as just that; an example. Are these normal circumstances that the nine mercenaries are in? Going out every single day to die dozens of times in violently horrible ways, only to come back? Mixed up with a bunch of people from varying backgrounds that don't always agree, in a time period where there's a lot of tension between genders, races, and countries? Would their sole motivation be rape for pleasure?
I'm really, really not taking to the idea that we should consider six of the nine teammates to hold a genetic flaw that tells them to blindly rape for pleasure's purpose (or rather, the genetic purpose of raping to mate). That is excusing lazy writing, and it gives another excuse to keep the six characters generic and flat by having them all use the same driving purpose. There should be some effort put in to understanding how rapists work, and not simply grasping for the easiest to obtain reason and the copy-pasting it onto multiple characters.
You've been very well set that this story is written well, that it's compelling, that it's interesting. Your reasoning has been that we shouldn't stick to canon for everything, and that 'most' rapists do it because it feels good and because they are genetically driven to rape. So it excuses dumbing down the characters as well as dumbing down their driving purpose. This leaves very dumb characters. I'm going to call this Metroid: Other M Phenomena, since it's a very similar issue. Pre-established characters that behave in certain ways should not be so radically changed that we have nothing comforting to fall back on. The one thing that had been a bit of a comfort at the beginning, for example, was seeing that the Heavy and Medic were friendly to one another. Apparently. That, however, wasn't conveyed beyond the "tell, not show" method of establishing it, and was soon abandoned. When the reader has nothing familiar to fall back on and they can't recognize their favorite characters anymore, it immediately becomes a difficult read.
People rape for a number of reasons. Jealousy, fear, anger, miscommunication, delusion, and so on. Six people don't simultaneously agree that it only feels good to rape vaginas and then do so. Unless that genetic flaw is also some sort of genetic hive mind that activated once a vagina was detected in a 20 meter range. And if the teams are mirror images of each other, why wouldn't they kidnap the enemy Pyro? Or was it really as simple as the entire team hating each other so much that casual rape for the sake of rape was as perfectly logical as continuing to breathe?
I'm just completely not understanding you.
First of all, you.
Listen, that second comment was a retort to the >>133 post! I just made a mistake. I'm really sorry, because apparently you really thought it was for you, and i don't want to sound rude to ya, you seem to be one of the most reasonable persons around this thread! I'm really sorry, my bad.
And now, like i said to the >>134( now that i am checking...oh lord, i mistook the number again. Okay, this is looking pretty funny dumb…I know what to do. I will blame my cats walking around my keyboard), this last comment regarding psychological aspects were merely corrections of the mistakes people are doing while trying to pull their criticism to such way. I am basically not giving criticism or retorting any other complains and stuff.
And i thought that i have made myself clear when i said i didn't mind the lack of cerebral development: i like rape fanfics, even when the main focus is the sex. It's purely for smuty purposes, and i don't mind saying that i like mindless porn; the author had already corrected himself saying that he wasn't trying to make the thing look "cerebral" anymore, and since i wasn't minding it from the very beginning, i didn't complain anymore. In fact, when he was saying that he would make it look more complex, I was indeed demanding it from him, saying exactly these things everyone is saying (not looking cerebral, no development, no good characterizations, only shallow characters yada yada yada), except the argument where they're expecting the author to stuck with predetermined types of the fandom, and only with this the story will look good. That was the point i have been trying to prove: that these types hardly resembles the "reality" that they are demanding the author puts in the story (which is okay. Like i said over and over, it's not a bad thing not to stuck completely with "real life" stuff because even the game would not exist), and aren't the only interpretations of the (scarce) canon we have to us.
But now i've stopped making my points. So, like i said, i was just correcting those statements.
That's it. I'm sorry, again, because of my mistake with you. Really.
"Sociopathy does not have a purely genetic aetiology. The actual diagnosis is Antisocial Personality Disorder (DSM-IV) or Dissocial Personality Disorder (ICD-10); ‘psychopathy’ and ‘sociopathy’ are not currently accepted medical terminology. Of the two laymen’s terms, however, psychopathy is the condition with a genetic basis (though it’s still multifactorial and triggered by environmental factors), whereas sociopathy is considered to be exclusively environmentally caused (childhood neglect or abuse, head trauma, etc.), hence the name, sociopathy."
I'm sorry to say but, yes, the terminology of "sociopath" is acceptable, but it’s slowly not being used due to the fact it’s more of a commonplace; it can be same thing as APD and the genetic causes are considered acceptable in this cases, too, i'm afraid. There have been, for example, diagnoses of "sociopathy traces" to children between ages of 6-10 years that have not suffered physical/mental abuse, something that wouldn't been made a few years ago due to the fact the personality only solidifies around the age of 17-18.
And, for the medical terminology between the “sociopath” and “psychopath” terms: the difference resides more specifically in the fact that a sociopath not necessarily will have violent behavior – then, a psychopath when he does it. Surely, a psychopath is a sociopaths (or a person with APD and violent acts), but not all sociopaths are psychopaths. It’s more a case of nomenclature.
But you are correct to say that sociopathy doesn’t have purely genetic roots, which I thought I have left clear in my comment (“due to unknown expression of some genes and the type of knowledge of the environment that they will produce inside the rapist’s mind”). So, I’m sorry for not have made this clear.
"As for the rest of your arguments, particularly about rape as an evolutionary mechanism, suffice to say I disagree with you. I want to see a published article from a reputable source before I’m buying that one."
Please, look for the “A natural history of rape”, from Randy Thornhill and Craig Palmer. These two have the idea of a possible evolutionary mechanism involved in the processes of rape due to many patterns in common, not only in the attacks of our specie, but also in other animals( just to make an example of the type their work). It’s a pretty interesting idea, makes sense in a biological field (something that people do a lot of misinterpretation when it comes to explain rape in this notion) and I encourage you to make contact with this work.
"Finally, this is the second time I’ve had to tell someone in this thread not to use mental disorders as a slur or insult. Suggesting, even as a joke, that another commenter is in need of therapy because their opinion differs from yours is NOT OKAY."
The joke isn’t about it! I made the joke of free advice – since consultancy is expensive – from experts through me because the person told that I was trying to look an authority, and due to the fact it’s hilarious to think of someone asking for advisory just to write porn. The “help” I was offering it was purely of ask questions to those people via me, nothing to do with psychological interventions! And in any moment I insinuated that the person needs psychological help!
Oh, no good. It really looks like I’m unable to express myself correctly. Well, i was pretty afraid of mistakes like this… that a joke of mine would look like something prejudiced or disrespectful (even though I have chose my words carefully and that I was sure I wasn’t acting disrespectfully)…
I’m afraid that, if you really have something to say about the education my friends are having, you will have to say it by yourself to them.
Otherwise, if you only want to retort what I’m saying, putting in question my knowledge and correcting me (something I don’t mind, if it’s made politely) I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to not use their names like this, with such disrespectful manner, especially because they aren’t here to defend themselves (they don’t visit this site) and because if I take their knowledge to here is my idea (that they are aware, btw), problem and mistake, and only mine.
If you absolutely can’t stop yourself to make disrespectful comments, then, please, make them just for me.
Error, please stop. You're stirring the pot.
Eggwhites, I'd suggest going to academic sources. Here is the American Psychological Association website.
If you're going to do away with most of this story, consider redoing this as a hate crime. The ironic and repulsive "corrective rape" scenario. Revamping this as an exploration of what happened and how Pyro would deal with this would be much more realistic and interesting, at least in my opinion. It's versatile and gives you more freedom of where to take the plot.
Okay guys, any further psychological debate on shit should be made into a new thread on /off/ since this is /really/ derailing the thread and the author has replied to shit. Because we can argue all day about diagnoses and shit.
EXPECT A TEMPBAN IF PSYCHOLOGCIAL DISCUSSION, ASIDE FROM WHAT IS DIRECTLY RELATING TO THE FIC, IS CONTINUED.Ie, quit replying to each other's stuff instead of the author's.
Hey, I just wanted to tell you (if you plan on continuing this story) that despite its flaws and dark content I enjoy reading it. I'd like to talk about it with you and maybe collaborate on something sometime. My e-mail's there, if you'd ever want to. I think you're a very creative person and I would love to talk with you about your ideas.
Please finish this story. If it's others that bother you, please post it elsewhere as I would love to continue reading it. Hell, even sending more to me would be okay (I swear I'm not a creepy fetish-ist).
I understand everyone's opinions here but some people genuinely like your writing/ideas. Every time this thread bumps and I don't see another part of your story, just more debate over the content, it makes me a little sad. You have a lot of talent, and I genuinely like where you're going with this, even if it really is more than a little dark. Fiction is fiction, nothing more, regardless of your intentions.
Please update soon, I really want to know what happens next!
After reading both story and comments, I really don't think that a story of this kind has any business being on the 'chan. It's undeniably well written and poignant but in equal measures it's also insulting and upsetting to people. Now while I understand that this is meant to be written as a dark fantasy and/or means of release/therapy/catharsis very few people can and will appreciate it and in opinion it seems like a story that should be kept to oneself or one that would need to be sought out on LJ or Tumblr. The behaviour of the authour has most certainly enforced this opinion, as he/she has reacted with varying degrees of maturity and responded to criticism more smugly than is really appropriate. This sort of "shock artist" pride EggWhites has taken in response to people's reactions is also inappropriate. TF2chan is not a hugbox but neither is it a cesspool. Saying "great, I'm glad it made you feel grossed out and violated!" comes off as a way to avoid really reading criticism. As one of the individuals who was insulted and disturbed by this piece I probably won't make any further comment, as I'd prefer not to see this thread again. Here's to hoping it sinks off the page sooner rather than later.
I'm right there with Brotato. I would love to see more, I keep coming back hoping to see more of the story only to find more debate. Which seems to have eaten up the majority of the thread now. I hope you'll continue this Eggwhites, if not here then somewhere. Also, I hope you'll let those of us who've enjoyed your work so far know where. Either way thank you for writing as much as you have, I hope you know that you have at least one fan.
I really agree with this.
What about it, Egg? To put the rest somewhere else? It'll be only for those who liked it so far.
I really like your ideas and perspective. Do you have any idea where that TeratoMarty fic is, or what it's called?
I was oddly proud that I was able to evoke such intense feelings of disgust. At least it's something, you know?
"The author failed to make the character’s motive clear" I will work on this. I just didn't want to make it too obvious.
Yeah, those are really valid ideas and would make sense. Thank ya kindly.
I don't think you're creepy. At least, not any creepier than I am. "Fiction is fiction, nothing more, regardless of your intentions." Agreed 100%.
"Saying "great, I'm glad it made you feel grossed out and violated!" comes off as a way to avoid really reading criticism."
I explained this above. I will not lie about or apologize for how I feel. If that's wrong or immoral, then so be it. Also, avoiding really reading crit? Are you serious? I've spent the better part of this thread gratefully accepting criticism and absorbing those points, opinions, views and ideas. Please don't accuse me of avoiding criticism when I have worked so hard to be anything but evasive. I freely admit that I didn't do so well on this front in this beginning, but I apologized there too. I believe I even posted something about my "butthurt".
There are some decisions that I have made.
1) I'm going to completely rewrite this.
The points that have been brought up have made me curious as to what this could be.
2) I am going to continue this version.
For every passionate "I don't like this", "This doesn't belong here", or comparing this fic to actual feces, I have gotten at least two quiet emails or posts from people who are asking me to continue. One individual even drew an absolutely breath-taking picture, something that completely and totally conveyed what I was trying to write. For every person who doesn't get it, someone does. I thought maybe I was insane, that it really was just pointless trash, but if so many are picking up on what I was trying to do, then how can one say that this is truly a failure? So I'm going to continue this odd, disgusting, dark, immoral, flawed and overtly pornographic story. I say those things because I feel that they apply to this fic, not because I'm being a sarcastic twat.
Actually, let me address that too. Multiple times it has been pointed out that I am condescending, smug, or otherwise a douche. While I don't deny that I'm a douche, when I write those things I write them with total honesty. I'm not trying to be an asshole or condescending. I've been told that I write the exact same way I speak, verbatim.
I have one last conflict. While I am going to continue this version, where should I put it? Part of me says to put it on pastebin or somewhere else, as has been suggested. Honestly, I want to keep it here. I don't understand how, on a board full of other instances of rape/gang-rape, necrophilia, torture, and even sewing guys to each other mouth-to-asshole, this gets so much anger. Is it because there's a vagina involved? Yes, it's violent, but there are many fics here already containing just as much of that. Yes, it's pornographic, but all of these fics are...
I just want to know why this in particular has received so much passion.
Since you plan on making two versions, a revised version and a continuation to this one, I suggest posting the revised one that begins from the start in /workshop/, and the continuation here regardless of the backlash. I believe it's been said that most of the people not interested in reading it are already stopping from here, assuming the final sentiment of >>144 holds up for many others. If things become uncivil, then the only one at fault is the instigator, and they will be punished appropriately. On the other hand, critique here will help you refine the parts you have in mind for the revised story later, when you come to them.
My suggestion would be to start anew on the chan's workshop board and let this thread die. You might also want to post this on ff.net and t umblr and maybe even LJ if you're feeling particularly brave (the format on LJ is a thing to behold) and link it back into this thread and your new one. That way you get to start fresh and bring your audience with you without having the troubles in this thread poisoning your audience pool.
I second lawlspy's suggestion of linking to a tumblr or ff.net address so that those who enjoyed it can read it away from all, the not so wonderful things that have been said about your a/fanfic. It'd be nice to be able to have it in one collected place without having to sift through all the other posts.
Either way it's up to you Eggwhites.
I actually did have this on FF.net, but I took it down because I feared having a flood of "this is shit lololol" pop up when everyone finally said how they feel.
As much as I wanted to keep it here, I feel like it's better off there. I was thinking that perhaps it would be a good idea to bump this thread with a link with the new chapters? That way crit could still be posted here. That makes sense to me, but I could be wrong. If that doesn't sound too stupid, then that is what I'm going to do.
I just don't want to come off as, "Oh, some people said it was bad and now he wants to hide it so no one can see the negative comments."
P.s. Almost done with Part 11.
I just don't want to come off as, "Oh, some people said it was bad and now he wants to hide it so no one can see the negative comments."
That's exactly what lawlspy and the following Anon are suggesting you do, if you didn't quite catch that. :V I'm against putting anything on FF.net if only because it's a shitty site with next to no useful critique. On the other hand, although you do get people with negative opinions here, you also have gotten a fuckton of useful critique and impressions to work with, as well as users willing to discuss problem spots with you, all of which is far more useful than FF.net's relative obscurity of fiction and their comparatively useless readerbase.
Yep, then here it stays. That makes the most sense to me.
In any case, have an update.
Warm, moist air breathed across his face and he felt pressure along his side. His naked body reacted as if he were being attacked; the muscles tensed as his arms rose to block. Strong hands caught his wrists without difficulty and held him still. The pressure increased as a weight settled across his torso.
"There will be none of that, little Pyro. Good morning," Medic murmured, bare chest laid snugly against the boy. Soft lips pressed to Pyro’s cheek and he made a noise of discomfort, shifting under the larger man for a moment. Finally, as he realized where he was, he calmed. After a few surprisingly tender and chaste moments, Medic pulled away. "Come, you must bathe."
"What?" The boy asked, confused. Medic didn't answer and helped Pyro to his feet before offering him a towel. Pyro accepted it, wrapping it around his hips and knotting it tightly as he watched Medic slip on a pair of rubber showering sandals and a pair of loose sleeping trousers. He wanted to ask more questions, but he knew better than that. Last night was, hopefully, the last painful thing he would have to endure for a long time... as long as he didn't piss off Medic again. 'Or until he decides to loan me to someone else for whatever fucking reason.'
As he followed Medic to the showers, Pyro caught glance of one of the hallway clocks. It was 0400. Why in the holy hell had Medic woken him so early? Pyro decided that this was one question he could ask.
"Medic?" he asked quietly.
"Why... why are we up so early?" Medic turned and smiled at him. It wasn't so much of a smile as it was a baring of teeth, and Pyro felt the first touches of fear strike through his system. What the fuck was Medic planning now?
"You will know soon.” He took the boy's hand in his larger one and patted it as one might pat a good dog's head. His hand was cool and dry, a stark contrast to Pyro’s sweaty flesh.
Pyro felt the familiar nausea overcome him. No, he didn't want to do this. Not this early in the morning, couldn't he at least have something to eat first? Fuming and consumed with dread, Pyro followed Medic into the locker room. His stomach flipped violently, he didn't want to see who else was there, but -
The room was empty. It was only the two of them. Medic slipped off his spectacles and his trousers, gesturing for Pyro to start the water. Pyro leaned against the wall so as to avoid the initially freezing spray and turned on two of the showerheads.
As he waited for the water to heat up to a comfortable temperature, Medic slipped up behind him. Hands snaked onto his hips, rubbing lightly and untying the towel. The man pressed closer to him and Pyro closed his eyes when he felt Medic's erection against his back.
"Here," Medic turned him around. Pyro flinched, but the other man only gave him a bar of standard issue soap. "Scrub yourself well; you need to be as clean as possible." The doctor stood at the spout next to Pyro and began to lather. Pyro began to clean himself as instructed and refused to look at Medic. The concrete floor beneath his feet was cold and rough and he focused on that rather than the man beside him.
"So why did you come to me last night? I know that you did not break out; you couldn't have picked the lock from outside. What happened?"
Pyro blinked. He couldn't tell the truth, he couldn't reveal Scout's secret. He wouldn’t do that to the one person who had actually helped him.
"Uh... it was like that when I woke up," he offered feebly.
"You are lying." It was not a question.
"Spy picked the lock, I think. I - I didn't see him. I heard the lock being picked and the chains being unwound, but when the doors opened there was no one there."
Medic muttered something in German and, while Pyro didn't understand the words, he did understand the tone. "I will have to speak with him. That does not answer my first question, however. Why did you come to me?" Pyro was quiet for a minute, deciding if it was wise to tell the truth: he had been so damn sore from Engineer's torture that it would have been hell to sleep on those tables… but that was nothing compared to his encompassing fear, the terror that pooled in his intestines and shrieked through his system every time Medic became angry. He didn't want to get in trouble; he didn’t want to suffer more of Medic’s punishment. Another round with Soldier or Engineer would kill him. ‘Kill me. Yes. But they’ve already done that, haven’t they.”
"I... was sore. Because of Engineer," he said quietly as he rinsed his hair. It was starting to grow too long, making the scarred patches more visible. The length he usually kept did a good job of hiding the hairless smears that streaked his scalp. "And I didn't want to be alone. I... wanted to be with you. I missed you." His face flushed from the lie, and he was sure that Medic knew that wasn't entirely the truth. There was a silence and Pyro’s heart thundered in his ears. 'Fuck, he knows. He knows.'
Beat. Beat. Beat.
"Oh Pyro," Medic finally said, voice soft. He reached out an arm and gathered his captive in a light embrace, "I knew you would come around. You are such a good boy, do you know that?" He kissed the warm forehead in a sympathetic gesture so unlike himself that Pyro shuddered with fear. Medic understood the boy’s trembling as nervousness rather than revulsion and let his lips brush over Pyro’s neck.
Thick fingers traced the mastectomy scars across his chest and Pyro groaned lowly. Those scars were sensitive, almost painfully so, and didn’t react well to contact. Medic kissed him again, harder this time. "Are you finished bathing?" Pyro nodded and stepped from the water, taking his towel from where it lay on a bench. The hinges on the locker room door wailed shrilly and the boy froze for an instant before he wrapped the towel around himself quickly. With deft fingers, he knotted the fabric ends tight.
"Is everything ready?" Medic asked, looking at the newcomer that emerged from around the corner. Pyro blinked.
"Yes, everything is ready."
"What-what's going on?" Pyro felt his nerves draw tight, and fear began to churn in the pit of his stomach. 'Now what?'
"Be quiet, little one," the German replied, but his voice did not betray any anger. He wrapped his own towel around his waist, "Stay with Heavy, I will see you soon." Without another word, he left, the screaming hinges announcing his final departure.
Pyro stared at Heavy for a moment, looking through him rather than at him.
"Are you okay?"
Pyro blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly. He felt his fear boil away as rage swelled in its stead.
"What do you fucking think?”
The larger man sighed. “Come, follow me.” He gestured to leave the locker room and Pyro followed, suspicious.
“Can I at least have some clothes?” Pyro said quietly as Heavy led him down the halls. Right back to Medic’s quarters, actually.
“No, you will understand soon.”
Pyro suddenly stopped as if he had struck a wall of thick glass.
“No. I’m not doing this,” he gritted through clenched teeth. Heavy set a hand on his shoulder and Pyro jerked away, “This is just gonna be another… you’re just going to lead me right to them, like a sheep to slaughter!” He reared back, eyes wide, and without another thought he bolted. While not nearly as agile as Scout, Pyro was certainly faster than Heavy. Big hands tried to grasp him, but Pyro ducked away from their reach and ran.
“Pyro! That is not what this is! Please, listen to me,” Heavy called after him, “If you run, Medic will tear you apart when he catches you! And he will catch you. You know that.”
Pyro paused, about eleven meters from Heavy, and stared. “Stay there,” the younger one warned, “And talk.”
The door to the infirmary opened at that moment and Medic leaned out. He was wearing red surgical scrubs, as well as a matching mask and cap, and he was pissed.
“What is going on? Pyro, come here,” he demanded. Pyro froze. Medic was going to operate on him? What the fuck for?
“Pyro. I said come here,” Medic called again. The man’s voice was darkening and in that moment Pyro knew that Heavy had been telling the truth. If he ran… Medic would destroy him. He couldn’t run forever. Slowly, he walked towards Medic, who stood with an ugly scowl made uglier by the fact that it was only half-visible.
As soon as Pyro was within reaching distance, Medic grabbed him hard and handed him to Heavy. Vast palms clamped over his naked shoulders and Heavy literally pushed him into the medical bay.
The lights were on over the main operating table, the Medigun harnessed into the overhead rig. The table was flanked by –
“What the fuck is going on,” Pyro gasped, the acrid taste of panic souring his mouth. Engineer stood by the table, also wearing the hideous scarlet scrubs. There was a gleaming silver cart lined with surgical tools beside him.
Just as Pyro understood the scene, Heavy snatched him under the armpits and lifted him up. Automatically, Pyro twisted in the larger man’s grip, his fist cracking squarely across Heavy’s nose. With a rough bellow, Heavy dropped him. Pyro barely caught a glimpse of red blossoming across the Russian’s face before his feet hit the ground. Without even thinking, he shot for the door.
“Pyro!” Something smacked into his back lightly. Skidding into the hallway on his bare feet, Pyro bore left. He could feel a strange sting in his spine, radiating outward hot and fast. His mind swam as if he had fallen into a pit of warm jelly and his stomach threatened to empty itself. Pyro came to a shaky stop, wobbling on his feet like a newborn foal. All at once, vertigo overcame him and the floor rushed up to greet him.
Sprawled on his belly and still half-naked, Pyro stared blankly at the wall. His jaw hurt where it had impacted against the hard linoleum. As he lay there for a moment, he wondered why he wasn’t getting up. A strangled, wheezing cry escaped his lips when he realized that his limbs refused to cooperate. They had shot him with a fucking tranquilizer.
“Stupid, stupid girl,” Medic muttered darkly behind him. Hands grabbed his shoulders tightly, lifted him to his feet. As limp as a wilted rose, Pyro gaped at the other man. Medic hefted him up and over a strong shoulder easily and carried him back towards the infirmary. Heavy still stood in the hallway, covering his nose and mouth with one hand as blood trickled down his chin. Engineer was just outside the door holding a dart gun.
“Why did you let her run?” Medic spat at Heavy. The three filed into the medical bay and Pyro grunted as he was roughly laid on the operating table. Engineer stood on his right, watching him silently. He couldn’t see Heavy from this angle. He tried desperately to move, to get up, to do anything.
“I’m sorry,” Heavy said quietly.
“I don’t want an apology; I want you to successfully restrain a woman who is a third of your size. Go clean yourself up.” The doctor’s voice was bitter and sharp. Inwardly, Pyro winced. He felt his wrists and ankles being buckled into the straps at either end of the table.
“Now, little Pyro,” Medic turned his attention to his captive and leaned down to kiss Pyro’s lips. “I was going to give you some anesthesia so that this didn’t hurt, but I’m afraid that I can’t do that now. You shouldn’t have run from Heavy. Engineer, please give her another sedative. We don’t want any more escape attempts.” There was a quick sting in Pyro’s arm and he felt his mind thicken as if milk were curdling in his brain.
The Medigun clicked and hummed as it was turned on. Soft, warm fumes brushed against his naked chest as an opaque cloth was draped over his face. Pyro was too dizzy to panic, heart racing slightly faster but otherwise unresponsive.
A sharp burn traced across his chest and Pyro wished he could see. He cut off that thought just as quickly – did he really want to see?
“Hold that back. Good. Use a sponge – there.” Medic directed his ‘assistant’ with constant and firm demands. Engineer obeyed absolutely, a wicked smile hidden beneath the red mask. The Texan’s thoughts were on the procedure, yes, but also preoccupied with memories from the night before. He shivered slightly. The girl was beautiful when she cried.
On the inside, Pyro whined in irritation and wished he could move. Even though it didn’t really hurt – he had endured much, much worse on the battlefield – it still stung. His skin split easily under the scalpel, opening like a flower at dawn, and he heard Medic’s breath quicken. ‘Fucking sadist freak.’
Gloved fingers stroked along his insides, tying off veins and parting muscle from flesh. The relative coolness of the hands against his searing viscera made his mind flip as if diseased.
“Give me – yes,” Medic murmured, “Put your fingers right here, and hold it fast.” There was a whirr of a saw starting up and Pyro realized what was going to happen a mere second before the blade hit bone.
The grinding echoed through every part of him and Pyro actually managed to scream despite the sedatives, a piercing screech that made Engineer flinch. Pyro could feel the intense pressure as if it lay upon him like another body, pressing and pressing and –
His sternum finally snapped in what was simultaneously the most painful and most relieving thing Pyro had ever experienced. He felt warmth leak from his body. His heartbeat slowed, his breath nearly stopped and he was sure that he wasn’t going to survive this procedure. Sweat rolled down his body in fat, cold drops and he desperately prayed for death. Medic stopped and placed a finger to Pyro’s pulse point for a few moments.
“Hm, pity. She is unconscious,” the doctor groused, obviously disappointed. Revealing the heart, he turned to the cart at his side and picked up a small piece of red-streaked metal about the size of a postage stamp. Medic studied the device, “You are certain that this will work?” He locked eyes with his temporary assistant for a moment.
Pyro listened to the words as they slowly reached his ears. It took a long time for him to process each syllable, but he could understand the men as they spoke.
“How d’you think we caught Scout the other night? I told you, there’s just the one bug, but I’m working on it,” Engineer replied.
Medic chuckled dryly, “Yes, the invisible specimen. So you have told me.” Holding the steel chip in a pair of delicate tongs, Medic gestured to Engineer to shift the heart to one side. Carefully the other man did so, revealing the über mechanism already implanted in the lazily pumping organ.
With a hand as sure as fate, Medic made one last tiny incision next to the über chip and set the locator into the cut. Engineer turned up the intensity on the Medigun and the muscle reknit carefully around the metal as if the device belonged there. Slowly, the broken sternum closed back up.
“I just don’t get it,” the Texan shook his head as he watched Pyro’s flesh regenerate, “The locator never goes off, but I swear the signal bounces. Even if it says he’s in a certain area, sometimes he just ain’t. The chips are working fine, the radar is working fine. I just can’t figure it out. I thought the signals might be off kilter but they’re steady as rain.”
“Yes, fascinating,” Medic muttered, clearly bored with the Engineer’s musings. He had already started to clean up, placing the dirtied tools in a tray to be washed and autoclaved. He removed his mask and cap and tossed them in a trash can by the door.
Locator chips. Engineer had made a locator chip to find him. Medic had been paying Engineer back for something… this. It was this. Pyro’s mind spun as he remembered.
Scout had been loading and reloading his gun, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, as the words raced from his mouth. “It’s like Engie always knows where I am, even if I’m cloaked or disguised.”
“Your controller is already programmed, like I said it would be. I put it on your desk. It’s real easy to use.”
“Thank you, Engineer. Now, if you will kindly dismiss yourself. I will see you on the field soon.”
Engineer frowned for a split second, barely noticeable, before he stripped his own cap and mask off. Within another moment, he had gone from the infirmary.
“Heavy?” Medic called, unstrapping Pyro’s limp body from the restraints. Clear blue eyes glanced at the clock on the wall and read 0530. It would take perhaps an hour for Pyro to recover from both the surgery and the sedative, even with the constant application of the Medigun. Technology would always have its limits, the man mused. He took his time cleaning up the operating table and utensils, wiping with sanitized cloths as he stacked the glittering tools in a tray and organized them in a special washer that Engineer had built for him.
Heavy entered the room just as Medic was transferring his tools from the washer to the autoclave.
“Where have you been?” Medic asked, his voice indifferent.
“I do not like watching surgery,” the Russian admitted.
“Yet you will tear a man apart on the field without hesitation.” Heavy merely shrugged in response. “Keep an eye on her until I get back. Also, take a look at the Quick Fix. It has been choking again.” Medic left to his quarters, leaving Heavy and Pyro alone in the room.
Heavy took the Quick Fix from its cabinet and set it on another table, the closest one to Pyro. He switched the overhead light on and bright white flooded the room, so intense that Pyro could see it through the cloth still over his face. He listened to the soft clinks and clicks as the gun was taken apart. Suddenly Heavy’s activity paused.
“I do not know if you can hear me,” Heavy whispered, “But I will get you out of here.” Without another word, he returned to his work.
Pyro didn’t have the energy to think about what Heavy had said, not right now. He could feel the life ebbing slowly back into his fingertips and toes, spreading up his limbs and into his torso. The pain had long since faded and he reached up to pull the cloth off of his face. Heavy was instantly at his side, pulling off a pair of oil-stained rubber gloves to set a hand on Pyro’s shoulder.
“Can I get dressed,” Pyro asked vacantly, voice completely monotone. He looked at the Quick Fix, or at least the mess of parts that constituted it.
“Yes,” Heavy replied, allowing Pyro to get up. Neither of them spoke as Heavy led him out of the room, into the hall, down the stairs, to Pyro’s quarters. As they entered, he glanced at his salamanders. They needed to be fed, but Heavy pressed him to put on his uniform. Eyes averted, Pyro removed his towel and quickly slipped into a pair of briefs and an undershirt. Heavy paid the smaller man no mind, instead taking the moment to shake some of the freeze-dried crickets into the salamander tank.
He couldn’t let Heavy know that he had heard. He wasn’t exactly sure why. ‘He could be lying, like Medic. Maybe he knew I could hear, and is trying to gain my trust.’
Pyro pulled his mask snugly around his head and zipped his suit up. At least he had this. In his suit, he was safe. No one could touch him, or fuck him, or stare at his face. He turned to Heavy without a word and they went back upstairs.
You can tell just how evil and heartless Medic is; he uses the Quick Fix!
Also, I don't really understand keeping the original fic going if you plan on completely rewriting it simultaneously? Are you rewriting JUST to appease us?
Nice. I love the way Pyro and Scout get more and more trapped by their team. It's agonizing too, in a good way, hehe. Btw, with this chapter, we can assume that Medic helped with Scout's imprisionment? The stuff in the beer, the chip... i hope he did.
Oh, and i really hope Heavy does not turn into the "nice" guy, oh lord. It would be terrible...
I would be pretty picky about the surgery, too, but inside TF2 is kinda dumb to do it, considering the Medigun's properties. This shit would do wonders during surgical procedures (someone should really explore this aspect in some fanfic). Just pay atention to the pre-surgical, if ya want to be accurate when describing this type of stuff. It will be a good exercise too, writing about boring hygiene preparations in a exciting or poetic(?) way. Jesus, this would be strange, hehe
Keep up the work! I'm supporting you.
Planning on using this as a framework of sorts for the serious, non-wank-material version. Plus I just want to see where it goes. I have been doing a lot of research for the "serious" version, and I've been carefully outlining each character and their desires, wants, needs, past and present.
Somebody has to be the nice guy. Heavy might as well be it... or is he?
"pay atention to the pre-surgical, if ya want to be accurate when describing this type of stuff"
WHAT YOU MEAN THEY DON'T JUST CUT AND SLICE? Yeah, I know there is a lot more to it than what I wrote. I'm too squeamish to watch a surgery video and find out though...
You can still get crit posting somewhere else. You should let this die because there's as much hate as there is crit.
I have to say I'm a bit annoyed by that stance on surgery, Egg Whites. There are plenty of ways to research without subjecting yourself to objectionable content. It feels half-assed, to be honest. You should either choose to disregard real medicine entirely and rely on the medigun or do legit research. For example, cutting into a patient only partially sedated would be a disaster. The pain could very well send them into shock. The body would release adrenaline which would counteract sedatives, etc. etc. etc. The Pyro would be flailing and screaming, and their vitals would be haywire. There's no way you'd be able to saw through their ribcage, restraints or no.
If you're not willing to use youtube, use google. Hell, just ask for help in workshop. You want to cut your teeth into this fic, that's totally cool, but you shouldn't do this in here as there's the expectation your writing will be polished and make sense in the universe you've established, which it doesn't. That's not giving up or running away--that's recognizing weaknesses in your writing and striving to improve.
You might consider looking up reports of surgical cases (and they do exist) where the anesthesiologist has erred or has diluted the drugs to hide their own habit-driven theft, and the patient remained aware but immobile.
An interesting idea! At risk of scaring anyone off surgery, this happens when there's an erroneous ratio of drugs used in the anesthetic. An anesthetic is actually a mixture of meds that involve pain killers, muscle relaxants, and sedatives. When these are administered incorrectly, that's when you get people waking up in mid-surgery who can't move and/or can feel pain.
I know for a fact I'm neither the only nor most qualified medfag hanging around the chan, Egg Whites. You have all these resources here--use them!
As a side note to anyone else, apologies for slight derailing, is there a thread on here already that deals with Q&A research and subject matter? If not, might be useful to start one.
Haha XD, nooo, although it would be plain awesome if you had dedicated more attention to the surgical procedure, i wasn't really talking about it. It is a personal opinion, but i really think Medic don't need to worry about such things as bleedings, severe damages in vital organs, hypovolemic shocks and stuff. Srsly, i think Medigun reverses any losses in tissues and stuff(and i can imagine doing it in cellular level...so cool! I love Medic and Mediguns), and maintains the metabolisms of the individual. I guess the only damage Medigun doesn't takes care is acute, severe damage to cerebral structures (example: Sniper's headshot. It's K.O.), so, Medic can probably tear the whole bone structure off of the thorax (like he did with Pyro... lol i doubt there's a human surgical protocol involving taking out the WHOLE sternum! Quite invasive!) and not even worry about the postsurgical, hehe.
What i was talking about was the pre-surgical stuff, with those high standards of hygiene and antisepsis (boring as hell). I guess, if there's another thing Medigun can't handle, is infections. So, i guess if Medic took extra caution with bacterias, it would be pretty accurate and nice. And,like i said, a fucking challenge to talk about those things in a interesting and surrounding narrative.
When I started reading this fic I must admit I wasn't going to finish it. The thought of Pyro being a trans was, to say the least, weird. I have always preferred him to be a guy (of course it's just my opinion and I'm thankful he considers himself a male). I kept reading and soon noticed I can't stop. Pyro's story is tragic, but interesting. At some points I feel bad for him (like I bet most of us do) and wonder if it's even okay to enjoy this. Well, I enjoy it anyway!
To me Heavy fits in a good guy's role perfectly. And Medic... Gosh the surgery-part was creepy! But then again, he will always be our lovable, crazy doctor.
Can't wait to read more, your writing style is truly enjoyable. And please excuse me my clumsy English!
...I hope no one really thinks that surgery will make this story more intelligent, would they? Medic repeatedly hacking Pyro open does not a cerebral story make. That being said, while I can't really see this story as cerebral, I was genuinely surprised by how much controversy and hate it got and is still getting.
Mainly because I know this isn't the first or last rape fic to be on the chan. Tentaspy is really popular here considering he doesn't exist in canon, and a lot of his fics have rape. I don't see how rape with 1 guy and 8 tentacles is better than rape with 8 guys and 0 tentacles.
I dont just mean random fics either. I mean, really popular fics by BigNameFans have had stuff with either rape or attempted rape. Toxo's "Snuff" reveals that the Spy uses his belt to muzzle and rape people on the enemy team, and then he drugs and kills them so they respawn without remembering. Teratomarty has had fics where Medic tricks Sniper into eating erection pills or uses vibrators on Soldier, and tricking patients into sex under the false pretense of a medical exam definitely counts as rape. Even CatBountry, who spearheaded the attacks/critiques of this fic, has a scene in her famous Respawn of the Dead where Spy decides that Engie should either help him rape Sniper or die. Is that supposed to be a scene of powerful literary insight? No way at all. It just seems hypocritical that Discovery should be singled out.
And I'm saying this as someone who thinks Marty is a comic genius and that Toxo should use her beautiful prose for actual literature. Even if I like an author, I can admit when they're writing a scene with something that would be totally unacceptable in real life. I can still be disgusted and horrified by rape in real life while still enjoying a non-con fic. That's because I understand the difference between fantasy and reality. The only people who can't tell the difference are those who are insane.
We're a fetish site. That means we cater to fetishes and fantasies on the basis that they have no impact on real life. Non-con is and has always been merely one of those fantasies, and no more. The mere fact that non-con isn't based in reality means it's not at all dangerous.
And I agree that non-con fics have no psychological realism, but...I'm not sure vanilla porn is realistic either. Characters in vanilla porn drop their pants for the flimsiest of reasons, and how many afanfics completely forget about birth control or STD's? It seems that if you criticize non-con for being unrealistic, you might as well swear off porn together.
That's why it's so hard to write literary porn. Porn usually involves characters doing the dumbest things in order to fulfill your improbable fantasies. I'm not saying we should lower chan standards. I love this chan because we have standards. Nor am I saying that Discovery is well written, because the prose still isn't good enough to elevate its subject matter, but I do find some of the criticism for this fic hypocritical. Critique it for its bad prose and plot and lack of good characterization; god knows this fic badly needs the help. But as far as non-con goes, it seems odd to single out this story when non-con has otherwise existed quietly on this site, especially if the commenter has either written or enjoyed other fics with non-con herself. Or himself.
Dear, please, put "sage" in the email field, because you kinda off broked my heart now (even though i find these mistakes funny, hehe).
Don't worry. For me, i don't think it.
And, wow, i totally agree with you... it was one of the things i tried really hard to explain to people around here. And you did it with just a few paragraphs. Pretty nice.
P.S.:I know we ain't suppose to reply to each other anymore, and i apologize, but i really need to praise this comment.
I don’t think the problem is that rape happens, Mimi, but that it happens so unrealistically. The fic presents itself as wholly serious while at the same time being comically exaggerated, and I think that’s a particularly triggering combination for many people.
The story keeps betraying its subject; it has Heavy participate in Pyro’s rape but then casts him as the good guy without a moment’s reflection. It has Pyro being subjected to gang rape but then change his mind and really want it—yes, some people are raped and involuntary orgasm, but it’s very traumatic for them; I doubt anyone has ever asked their rapist to go harder. It keeps crossing back and forth between serious!fic and fetish!fic, indulging orgiastically in brutal rape scenes one moment, engendering the reader’s sympathy the next, and thereby creates a powerful cognitive dissonance by making the reader fetishise their own rape-by-proxy.
I, for one, don’t mind non-con (the fic I’m most known for writing, ‘Addiction’, has Medic turning Scout into his personal cum-crack-whore, so yeah, I’m down with the freaky rape stuff), but I honestly couldn’t enjoy this fic. And when so many other non-con authors and readers speak up against it, it’s not because they’re all hypocrites. Whatever psychological fetish drama the writer tried to pull off, what they created instead is, judging by the response, probably the most triggering fic on the ‘chan. Done deliberately, I would’ve applauded the sheer level of mindfuckery—sadly, it’s accidental and the symptom of a fic at war with itself.
Whatever else it is—fetish fuel, author catharsis—this fic is also just plain bad research, bad characterisation, and bad writing, and I’d be surprised myself if the ‘chan didn’t react to that.
Thanks, iamerror. It's good to know my efforts have been appreciated. I actually wish I could've written my defense of non-con in fewer words, but such a heavy topic requires a bit of rhetoric, ne? If you like graphic novels, by the way, I recommend you read Alan Moore's "Lost Girls." Best celebration/defense of pornography I've ever seen in my life.
Oh, this fic has bad characterization and writing. Let me make that clear. Like Heavy, suddenly trying to become a "nice guy." There is no way this new plot element will work. If it turns out he's genuinely being nice, then the story will be poorly written because there is no way a rapist could do a 180 like that. If it turns out to be some sort of trap, then it's just poor little Pyro being caught in yet another butcher-fest. One reason I haven't spoken out earlier on the hypocrisy of some of the commenters is because I lost faith in this story months ago. I want to make it clear that I no longer believe it can be cerebral, and the sparse hopes I did have was more due to EggWhites being trans and less the actual writing, like Bountry said.
However, if you criticize "Discovery" for being unrealistic, I'm surprised you don't hate your own story as well. If it's unrealistic for Pyro to ask his rapists to go harder, then it's also unrealistic for Scout to go from hating being restrained by the Medic, to loving being restrained by the Medic, to vomiting from being raped by the Medic, and then suddenly asking for more the moment he's uncuffed. But that's what happens in "Addiction," the story you just promoted in your post.
I don't think this story has gotten more hate than other fics because it's semi-realistic without being realistic enough. (For one thing, it's not realistic at all.) I think this story has gotten more hate because it doesn't have the kind of rape that most people on this chan likes.
Like your fic, for example. In "Addiction," Scout is drugged so he ends up begging for sex with Medic. Therefore, he stops protesting, and it gives the illusion of consent. I also reposted a fic called "Domination" in the Class/You thread where a female Spy sneaks into the enemy Engie's workshop and rapes him, but then Engie decides he likes being submissive and goes back to her in a long term relationship. That story was received with aplomb, because Engie himself ended up ok with it. It was completely unrealistic that he'd be so ok with it, but no one complained because that way nobody had to feel guilty about enjoying his trauma.
I've noticed that non-con fics tend to be better received overall if the victim of the rape ends up enjoying it emotionally, not just physically, with minimal violence involved. That's the kind of rape people here apparently want to read about. The kind where they can pretend rape isn't actually happening.
That's what I mean by hypocrisy. I hate it when people try to justify the kind of rape fics they like by acting like it's better than other kinds of rape fics. "Oh, this fic has violent rape! That's not right! I only write fics where someone is drugged." "Oh, the victim's crying? But that's too depressing! I want him to consent every time after the first time!" "Oh, this fic has trans rape! That's horrible! I've liked dozens of gay male rape fics here, but trans rape? Now that's just wrong!" No, they're all equally inviable. None of them are immoral, because they're all fantasies, but one kind of non-con isn't inherently "more acceptable" than the other.
I will acknowledge that one other big reason Eggwhites got so much criticism is because he said he wanted to make his story cerebral. This is the worst thing non-literary porn writers can do to themselves, because it causes them to be held to actual story standards instead of porn standards. You can't claim to write an intelligent story and then use the "it's just afanfic" defense. That's just irresponsible. And it was also irresponsible not to have a non-con disclaimer, so people who might trigger could know to avoid this page.
But with all due respect, Cyan, this is exactly the kind of hypocrisy I'm talking about. You say that this fic is a semi "serious!fic" because it conveys the fact that Pyro's in a bad situation and tries to get us to sympathize with him. (Wouldn't he need a personality for us to sympathize with him first?) So Pyro crying is too much, but Scout having his brain altered is a-ok? Pyro feeling bad is "serious" but Scout getting drugged is somehow not?
Thanks for your reply, Mimi. However, this thread isn’t the right place to discuss the elements of my stories; that would be thread derailment. If you want to comment further on ‘Addiction’ (and I would value your critique!), please send me a message on tumblr (http://writingcyan.tumblr.com).
I've noticed that non-con fics tend to be better received overall if the victim of the rape ends up enjoying it emotionally, not just physically, with minimal violence involved.
It’s an interesting point, but if this was the case I don’t think straight-out rapefics such as ‘Breaking Point’ and those based on the evil!Medic trope would be so generally well received. I think the overall critique of this fic boils down to the fact that it’s just badly written; there’s no hypocrisy in only enjoying well-written (rape)fics.
In any case, I didn’t mean to get involved in the controversy surrounding this fic; I only commented to suggest that cognitive dissonance might explain why so many hardened ‘chan regulars are experiencing negative reactions. I’ll be bowing out of the discussion now; if you wish to talk further, please do catch me on tumblr.
So all this aside, can we just let Egg finish the story? If you don't like it, don't read it. I have been reading it because I stumbled accross this site looking up pyro weapon sets. It sucks starting any story and not being able to know the end.
why. WHY did you bump this. WHY.
The "don't like, don't read" argument has already been discussed. Please don't bump this thread again.
Wonderful! Please, do continue soon. I feel so sorry for the Pyro, his suffering never seems to end... Interesting to see how it will continue from here.
You're a strong writer. You keep continuing, even if people throw their laughable critique at you (honestly, no-one is really assuming this fiction to be better even if you'd study surgery for five years). That is very admirable and so is your style of writing. The reader feels the pain Pyro goes through and that's something you can be proud of. This fic is dark, something you don't meet too often. Please continue soon, I'm looking forward to see where this is going.
does anyone know what happened to EggWhites?
Has this thread been bumped?
Oh man, please, sage! You kinda broked my heart now.
But i ask myself the same question. I wonder where he is, and if he is alright.
Does anyone know if he has a tumblr or somethin'?
i didn't sage for a reason
Aaaaaahhhh I was hoping for an update..! But yes, I have been wondering the same. I hate when morons start bashing the writers and fics with half-assed reasons. I love this story. I love the characters, I love the Pyro, the Medic, the idea of Heavy being a good guy and only following the doctors orders, absolutely everything. I'd hate to see this dying, I enjoyed reading this incredibly much, even if I felt incredibly bad about it at the same time.
Oh man this fic, I agree I loved it yet I felt terrible because I did. I am not sure if I am correct or not, but wasn't another reason Eggwhites was writing was for some kind of therapy? I cant remember if he was and if so, I hope nothing bad has happened. Anybody know anything or if what my memory is telling me is true? Miss them.
I started reading this fic like any other afanfic, but then the reality of the situation settled in and I kept going out of a need to finish the story. Then the arguments started, and I fully agree with them. Thank you, I'm staying away from this thread from now on.
Hello everyone. It’s been a while. I had given up on this, too discouraged to keep on, but I have received so many emails (and fan art?!!) that I’ve been thinking about starting again. And then, when I saw that someone had bumped this thread… well. i have written the next part.
would anyone like to help proofread? my former proof-reader disappeared, so... my email is on post #26 (i didn't want to bump the thread without content).
thanks everyone, for all crit both positive and negative.
Ps. I don't remember how to trip code?
I took a lot of the crit, both positive and negative, to heart. Here goes nothing. I realize that the style is very different now, sorry. I'm not the same writer that I was then.
If you're interested in helping me proof-read chapters, feel free to say something or email me.
Pyro felt the soft euphoria of the medi-gun on him, heard Medic yell behind him. Soldier blasted ahead on a rocket and Engineer's sentry beeped in the distance. He could hear the dull roar of Heavy's minigun.
This track was called "Gold Rush" and Pyro hated it.
"Go!" Soldier bellowed like a thunder clap.
"I'm going to pop this as we go around the corner. Take them out," Medic was suddenly close to him, shouting so that Pyro could hear him through the heavy gasmask. Pyro chittered a reply in agreement, glanced behind them at Demo and Sniper.
He turned the corner and his blood sang with invulnerability. He blasted a handful of BLUs off of the cart, ignited a Scout and reflected a rocket back into the BLU Soldier's ugly face. Pyro smiled to himself - the BLU Soldier looked similar enough to their Soldier that it was easy to take pleasure in watching him die. They backed up, regrouped with Demo and Heavy and Pyro dimly heard Medic praising him. He muffled a thank you, but was cut off by a succession of messy bombs that knocked him on his ass and kicked up a mighty cloud of smoke and dust.
Pyro blasted to try and clear the air, struggled to his feet, simultaneously heard Medic and Heavy die. He ducked into one of the huge barn-like sheds, raced up the stairs for a higher vantage point. He found the BLU Sniper hiding in a room, killed him with an ax to the skull. The man hadn't even noticed Pyro, glued to his scope at the window. Grenades popped in behind him and Pyro backed up into a dead-end room. He was trapped. The BLU Demo was talking to him, but Pyro couldn't understand - he blasted the grenades away, heard them explode on their owner. Maybe he could escape now. He glanced out the window - the cart was abandoned. Where was everyone else? He tried to rev his flamethrower and it sputtered in the empty room. Out of ammo.
He swapped to his shotgun, pushed out from the room and down a hallway.
"Hey you rubber freak!" a BLU Scout hollered behind him and Pyro turned to shoot. He heard the sound of a cloak dissipating and realized too late that the Scout was a distraction, realized just as the blade sank into his back. He collapsed to his knees, gasped, and died.
Respawn smelled horrible, like ammunition and antiseptic, like a hospital in a war zone. The stench was bad enough the Pyro could notice it through his mask. He exited the building quickly, took a wheezing breath of fresh air, and Scout came blazing towards him.
"INCOMING!" An ubered Demo came around the corner behind Scout and Pyro launched into action.
"OVER HERE CHUCKLE NUTS," Scout bellowed to the Demo, dancing just a few feet ahead of the blast radius. With the Demo distracted, Pyro flanked and blasted the Medic away. The uber faded and Pyro was ready; he dodged the swing of the doctor's saw and hacked the man in two with his ax. Blood spattered his suit, his lenses, and Pyro wiped a hand over the dark plastic. The fluid only smeared and he frowned.
He turned back to Scout, who was staring at something. Pyro followed his gaze and wasn't sure he understood what he was seeing.
Their Soldier knelt above the dead BLU Demo about fifteen feet away, directly in front of the Respawn door, and he was beating the corpse in the head with his shovel as if his life depended on it. The face was long gone, a mash of hamburger meat under the man’s fury. Pyro's stomach lurched and he looked away. He stared at Soldier's helmet, cast aside in the dirt by the Demo's feet.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Scout felt ashamed at the pitch of his screech, but received no answer. Soldier flinched as if he just then noticed Scout and Pyro there and stood up quickly. He dropped his shovel in exchange for his launcher, aimed at his feet as he crouched.
"GET ON THE POINT MAGGOTS!"
And he was gone, launched away like a deranged missile.
"What the fuck was that," Pyro muttered. Scout said something that sounded agreeable. Demo came out of Respawn just as his BLU counterpart faded into nothingness and cheered happily. He was drunk and fighting; by far his preferred state.
"Let's go lads!"
Medic's fingers threaded through his hair. They were in the Medic's office and had just eaten dinner. The night's supper of lasagna wasn't sitting well with Pyro's stomach and he leaned against Medic's desk wearily as the doctor touched him. The doves cooed from a cage in the corner of the room.
"Your hair is so soft," the German remarked, "You did well on the field today, and you made the right choice this morning to come back to me. Your evening is yours to use as you see fit... you must return no later than nine o'clock. Do you understand?" Pyro nodded, chewed his lip to keep from making a smart comment. Despite the man's words, Medic continued to pet him, continued to stand close enough that Pyro could feel the dull pressure of body heat.
"Do you understand what happened this morning?" Medic asked. Pyro shook his head no, wondered if perhaps Medic couldn't smell his lie, "Well, let us just say that... it would not be any use of you to hide from me any longer." Pyro remained silent, stared at the wall, didn't respond when the hands brushed down his arms. A soft kiss was pressed to his temple.
"Doctor? The Quick Fix is 'quick fix'ed," Heavy chuckled at his own joke as the med bay door creaked open. He carried the Quick Fix gingerly, but in his massive hands the gun looked miniscule. The metal shone with oil and not a single blemish marred the chrome. He set the gun on one of the gleaming tables, looked into the office where Medic and Pyro stood. Only now did Medic move away, leave Pyro's side to inspect the returned device.
Pyro wondered if he could leave now. As the two men began to talk shop, he carefully inched towards the door. Medic either didn't notice or didn't care, and Pyro escaped to the hall. The fluorescent lighting flickered, irritating, but it was infinitely better than the sterile white, white, white of the med bay. The hall was empty, but the voices of Demo and Engineer echoed from the rec room, too garbled to understand. Pyro swallowed thickly and set for his basement.
He wasn’t prepared to see Spy sitting on his bed when he opened the door to his room and he bristled instinctively.
“It’s me,” the Spy said before Pyro could speak, but it was Scout’s voice, and the disguise shimmered away. “I know Spy said he’s… protectin’ me, but I still don’t trust any of them.” Pyro sighed, relieved, immediately preoccupied himself with his ravenous and thirsty salamanders.
“Scared me to death,” he muttered, but he wasn’t actually angry and Scout knew it. He hadn’t been expecting anyone to be down here, let alone Scout. Pyro frowned inwardly, he couldn’t decide if it was weird that Scout had been waiting for him. Scout produced a baseball and mitt from underneath him.
“You were sitting on that?”
“Where else was I supposed to put it?" He put the mitt on, began to toss the ball and catch it again and the two of them were quiet for a minute or two. Pyro sat at his desk, stared at his salamanders. He wanted to talk, but he didn't know what to say.
"Do you know why Soldier..." Scout didn't finish his question and Pyro shifted his gaze to the floor. The image flooded his mind - Soldier's bared teeth, the blood flecked over his face and shirt as he mutilated the BLUs face.
"No," Pyro finally answered, "He's insane."
"Well yeah but, I mean, that Demo was dead." They didn't mess with bodies. Even the heads that Soldier occasionally collected and bellowed at, he collected them while their owners were 'alive'. "You just don't fuck with the dead."
"We die a hundred times a day, but still respect corpses," Pyro observed, mostly to himself. Scout stopped tossing his ball to look at his friend. "I guess that's one of those things you just don't get used to."
"You said it," Scout agreed after a moment. "Well, I mean, I guess I never thought about it."
"Why should we?"
For this, Scout had no answer. He resumed tossing his ball, catching it, tossing it, but looked away.
"Anyway, you want to like, go throw or something?” he asked, “I got another mitt in my room. You’re right handed, yeah?” Scout’s voice was as loud and brazen as usual, but something was missing and Pyro felt his heart break just that much more.
“Left-handed, but I'll manage.”
Scout rose to his feet, moved towards the door and Pyro followed. At the last second, Pyro reached out to touch the thin shoulder. Scout stopped, turned to look at him.
Pyro didn’t know what to say. He knew what he wanted to say, or at least he thought he did. He pulled his hand away quickly, as if touching Scout had physically hurt.
“You don’t have to say anythin’,” Scout’s voice was a mere whisper, and then he continued out the door. The halls were empty, much their combined relief, and they retrieved Scout’s second mitt without difficulty. Just as they were home free with the exit door in sight: it opened and Engineer stepped in, hauling what looked like a new minigun. His gaze was unavoidable and he stared at them with a lecherous hunger. Pyro almost stopped dead in his tracks but kept going, forced himself to keep up with Scout.
“Good evenin’ boys,” Engineer’s voice trailed like acid behind them but they didn’t stop. Once outside, Scout broke into a light jog. Pyro kept up, thankful for the chance to stretch his legs in peace, thankful for the chance to be away from Engineer and Medic and all of the others.
The endless desert stretched before them, red and ugly. Three-meter tall steel fences cast black marks upon the ground and gleamed cruelly in the late afternoon sun. The sun wouldn’t set until eight thirty or so, giving Scout and Pyro about two hours of light.
The two men threw the baseball back and forth, back and forth, until the sun began to set. The physical distance between them inhibited discussion, and for a long while there was no sound except the soft clap of the baseball against mitt. When the sun reached the end of the sky and began to fall, Scout finally did not throw the ball back. Instead he came to Pyro’s side, watched the darkening horizon.
“I talked to the Administrator,” he breathed in a quick rush, and it was apparent that he had been sitting on this information the entire time. He reeked of sweat and fear and it made Pyro slightly nauseous. He almost wished he had his mask on, “She said ‘internal quarrels’ aren’t worthy of a fuckin’ breach of contract. They don’t care.” Pyro blinked, a little stunned.
“You- you told them?” his voice had gone a pitch higher, but his throat felt so tight that he had no option.
“Not everything,” Scout admitted, “Just… uh, that we had some fights.”
“Some fights.” Pyro’s laugh was as dry as the sand that crunched beneath their feet. “Yeah. Sure. I don’t know about you, but my contract was pretty firm in its ‘no backsies’ policy.” He was being mean, but he couldn’t stop the edged words that fell from his mouth like warheads. His head swam with what had been done to him, what had been done to Scout, over the past few weeks. “Some fights,” he muttered again, mostly to himself.
Scout just shrugged, “Yeah but. I thought it was at least worth a shot.”
He was right about that. Pyro tore his gaze from the purple and cyan sky. It was twenty minutes until nine and he needed to get back to Medic.
“I have to get going, Scout. I, uh…” he felt uncomfortable saying it.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” replied the younger man. Scout just stood there staring at the sunset, even as Pyro walked back to the door and entered the base.
The door closed and Pyro wondered what Scout had been looking at.
Oh my God! You're back!! Thank you for this, I have been waiting so long for an update and now... I'm grinning like an idiot writing this comment, just too goddamn happy to hear from you.
I really hope you will find a new proof-reader. I would love to help somehow but as English isn't my first language I wouldn't be very useful.
Thank you again for this chapter, I hope to read more soon in the future. It's great to have you back.
Like the new style, looking forward for more.
EggWhites i love you
Hello there, dear. Welcome back.
So, let's go step by step, slowly.
First, i'll say that i'll look to this chapter like you wanted to write a more deep, complex story, not a PWP or somethin'. If it isn't what you have in mind with this fresh start, please tell me and i'll do another review.
I'll talk about what caught my attention:
Scout and Pyro relationship: i think this actually adds a lot to the story. Especially with you focus their relationship not like they are suddenly BFFs in their pain, totally just because they share a horrid and dramatic circunstance in common - that would be very unrealistic. Not saying you are doing this! Actually, you aren't, but you are avoiding to explore so many potentials with these two. Isn't there a secret Pyro is struggling with, if he should or not talk about with Scout? Isn't Scout expecting a forgiviness from Pyro(not implying you should make him accept the apologize, of course. This will be left to your own criterion)? Aren't they feeling, deep inside and despite not really liking each other, some kind of connection? All this makes me think of a very strong and at the same time strange relationship where they don't really compatible as friends, but they somewhat believe in each other. Isn't this a nice field to explore?
The Admin: I think you didn't really put much effort in this aspect. I mean, not saying that the Administrator would be all worried about the tortures, even if Scout was more descriptive. Considering the canon stuff, i kinda doubt that they give any fucks to their mercenaries, as long as they are killing each other. But there are many other ways to introduce the important detail of Scout and Pyro looking for help with their employers. What if, suddenly, Scout and Pyro make clear to the Admin they aren't working anymore if she doesn't help? Or what about they keep trying to talk some sense into Admin's cold heart, but their messages are being intercepted by their team, or somethin'? Again, there are other many, richer ways to explore somethin', but you aren't doing. It feels, for me, like you aren't working wrong on these new elements you're put in the story, but not as great and complex as it you could be doing.
Their torturers: it's a pretty hard topic to me to talk about, because there's only one chapter with your new style, and it didn't show much about them. Apparently - and i can be wrong - you didn't make many improvements with their characterizations. I'll wait, though, for more chapters, so i can tell you my opinion. I'll tell you somethin' in advance, anyway: work them way more. Talk about them. You don't have to fall in that crap about "human monsters" that is a common sense among people, that says if-you-have-zero-empathy-for-people-to-the-point-you-kill-torture-rape-you-have-suffered-a-traumatic-childhood/happening or something to make them look "deep" or "complex". Not necessarily. But show them more to us. I think a good way to do so is make Pyro -since he is the main protagonist - observe them more at the time he is forced to stay in their company: what they say, their hobbies, their rooms, etc, all in his POV. You portrait Pyro as a observer and sensitive young man, so I think this is a will be extremely interesting.
The sexual violence(or any violence at all): I'll be very sincere. I don't mind the violence, I started to read your fanfic because of it, I love it, it arouses me. And, as i said once to you, i think if you mix such graphic stuff you write so nicely with all these new details you want to put in your story to enrich it, i think it'll be awesome as fuck. But, as advice, I tell you to put it aside sometimes (like you did in this chapter: it is still there, threatening Pyro and Scout, but it didn't really happened something)and to consider "showing" it sometimes in a very subtle, suggestive way (not saying the suggestions are better than descriptive scenarios. But it certainly has a unique power to horrify and scare that is different from the graphic stuff).
Whoa, that's kinda long, i guess. By now, i think this is all i have to offer you about this chapter. I hope this helps. And i wish you good luck with this new attempt (that i personally approve greatly, just sayin').
P.S.: forgive any ugly and dumb mistake i made with the poor English, it ain't my first language.
Ohh Eggwhites, so glad to see that you are back and continuing this fic.
did i remember the right tripcode this time? thank you for all the crit, it is appreciated and taken to heart.
He had forgotten to tell Scout about the locator chips. Fuck.
Pyro stopped in front of Medic's door. Should he knock or just go in? Pyro chose the former and tapped his knuckles against the wood. The hallway was cold and he shivered a little, waiting for a response. The blindingly bright lights in the hall, coupled with the cold, emphasized the feeling of being alone. At least Medic's room would be dark.
The door opened wide and the doctor beamed at him.
"Good boy," Medic praised, reached out to stroke his hair, "Did you and Scout have fun?" Pyro blinked, realized that it would have been easy to see Scout and him from a window.
Did Medic know that Scout had been waiting for Pyro in his room?
Instead of giving Medic a vocal answer, he put his head against Medic's shoulder. Not out of affection, but in defeat. He didn't know what Medic knew, he couldn't know. This was how it was going to be. Why the fuck is it so cold in here?
Hands clasped his shoulders and rubbed. It would have felt good if Pyro didn't want to break every bone in Medic's body.
"Take off your clothes, it is time to sleep." Pyro looked away; the German was wearing standard pajamas: a white t-shirt and red athletic shorts. Medic made no move to remove his clothing and got into the made bed. Pyro still hadn't moved to undress.
"Pyro," Medic warned.
He reached up, tugged his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor, knelt and unlaced his boots. God, he didn't want to be naked with Medic. He could feel Medic's eyes on him as he yanked his pants and briefs down; he could hear the man's even breathing. Naked, he slipped under the covers quickly to hide. His skin crawled with goose bumps and he shivered.
Then Medic reached out and grabbed him and holy hell, the man radiated heat like a fire. Pyro thawed slowly under the warm touch, cooperated just enough to avoid reprimand. He returned the unwanted kisses and his heart shrank. He couldn't stop shaking. Thankfully, Medic made no move to progress things further, instead tucking Pyro in close to him.
Pyro thought he would have at least welcomed the body heat, but after a few minutes it just made him feel clammy and sick. He lay miserably in Medic's arms until the German fell asleep and stared at the ceiling until he finally passed out.
Hands pressed on his chest and Pyro sat up.
"Shhh," Medic comforted, laid him back down. He felt a weight settle on the bed, turned to see Heavy sitting beside him.
"Wh-" his question was cut off with a kiss. Heavy pressed him into the bed and Pyro felt groggy and angry. He wanted to punch Heavy in the face. The fucking liar! Pyro physically pushed the other man off of him, putting all his strength into a mighty shove. Consequences be damned; Heavy pulled back.
"I don't feel well," Pyro ventured before Medic could yell at him. Shit, shit shit. "Please, I feel sick." He tried to make his best sick face, tried to beg Medic with his eyes. His fingers twitched, but he forced himself through it.
"You feel ill?" Medic sounded genuinely concerned, "What is your ailment?"
"Like I'm gonna puke," Pyro was almost convincing himself now and grimaced as his stomach began to rumble, "Please, Medic."
Hands soothed over his shoulders, helped him sit up. Medic's cool fingers brushed against his neck, pressed against his pulse point, swept over his lymph nodes. Pyro's belly roiled suddenly, as if it believed him completely.
"What are your other symptoms?"
Pyro belched, frowned at the acrid taste, then promptly leaned over the bed and vomited into the trash can. He felt weak suddenly, as frail as a newborn kitten. A hand rubbed his back - he couldn't tell whose. Bile seared his throat like fire and he sat on the floor in front of the plastic bin. His mouth tasted rotten, his tongue was furry from sleep and Pyro wanted nothing more than to blast both Heavy and Medic into the next fucking dimension. Why was he so nauseous?
Heavy dressed him and took him to the med bay, where the Russian laid him on a table. Medic trained the medigun on him from where the device hung in its complicated rack above the table. The warm tickle crept over Pyro's body, soothed his stomach a little. Medic glanced at the clock.
"Do you think you will be able to eat? Do you think you will be too ill to fight today?" Pyro shrugged in answer to both questions. The vapor from the medigun smelled sweet, like Scout's cherry pop, and filled his chest with a comforting pressure. The nausea evaporated, his vision cleared.
"I think I'll be okay. Th... Thanks, Doc." It felt weird, apologizing to such a monster of a man. It was now that he noticed Heavy lingering by the door. Medic nodded in return, went back to his room. Pyro watched Heavy, and Heavy watched
Pyro. The Russian took a step closer.
"I don't want to hear anything you have to say," his words snapped with rage and Heavy shut up, actually left the room. Five minutes passed and neither man came back. They had gone to breakfast.
"He fucking better bring me back something to eat or so help me God," Pyro cursed under his breath. There was no one to hear him, but it felt good to vent. The rays of the medigun had worked their magic; his blood shook with gratitude and his stomach felt calm. He had no idea why he had vomited, or how he had done it. He slid off the table, went to a sink across the room. Pyro rinsed his mouth, cupping his hands under the frigid water and sipping carefully from the little makeshift bowl.
Soft hoots fluttered from Medic's office. Pyro spat and rinsed again, wiped his hands off with a paper towel. He drifted towards the office, intrigued. He couldn't deny that he was drawn to animals of all kinds - maybe because they didn't care that he was thirty percent scar tissue. The office door swung open silently and Pyro flicked the light on.
Medic's respectably sized office was as tidy as one would expect, with paperwork and files neatly stacked on his desk. A few bookcases were lined with color-coded files and medical literature, thick leather tomes that undoubtedly cost a fortune. A few imposing steel filing cabinets stood like sentries, guarding the information within with shiny locks that required a fingerprint to open. The large bird cage in the farthest was covered with a drape cloth, and Pyro pulled it off.
The four doves within cooed at him, but seemed disappointed. Perhaps they had been expecting Medic? The doves watched Pyro cautiously, their bright eyes following his movements. One ruffled its feathers to look larger and more intimidating.
"What are you puffing up for?" Pyro asked, sure to keep his voice gentle, "I'm not going to hurt you." He stepped back; he didn't want to scare the birds and therefore lose hope of ever gaining their trust. Birds were flightly creatures. Pyro chuckled at his pun, leaned against the desk and watched the doves groom each other. He used to have birds, when he was little. What were their names?
There was an open file on Medic's desk, white papers veined with Medic's impeccable handwriting. He spoke German but their employer did not, and so the files were all in English.
That wasn't what drew Pyro's attention though. There was a black and white picture of soldier clipped to the front page. He circled the desk to read the precise text.
Patient has exhibited a clear increase in violent behavior. Aggression rates via the Hale Rage Test have increased by 13% since last scan (48 hours prior). There is no apparent physiological cause for this behavior at this time. All hormone levels are within normal limits. Patient's endocrine system is flawless.
This trend has been present in several other patients, prompting a need to inspect environmental factors.
Pyro blinked, turned the page, and was met with a picture of Engineer. He skimmed the page quickly.
Patient has expressed increased aggression that seems to exponentially progress. Aggression rates via the Hale Rage Test have increased by 23% since last exam (48 hours prior). Patient outlets this aggression via sexual and physical violence upon weaker team members.
"Pyro," Medic called from the other room. Pyro reacted like a shot, placed the folder back precisely as he had found it and turned his attention back to the doves. The German loomed in the doorway, eyed him as he stood by the cage bars. The birds had grown accustomed to his presence and cooed at him.
"I was talking to the doves," his voice was thin and innocent, "They seemed... lonely."
Medic smiled, "Yes, you do seem to have an attachment to animals. Look, Pythagoras likes you." True to his word, one of the smaller doves had come closer to Pyro. Medic came to Pyro's side, opened the cage. One bird bustled out immediately, demanding in its need to greet its caretaker. It fluttered to Medic's shoulder to nuzzle.
"Archimedes," the man cooed in response. Medic seemed to have forgotten that Pyro was there, completely absorbed with inspecting his birds. Soft German drifted from his lips and Pyro stood back to watch. Medic was incredibly gentle with his birds and Pyro felt a pang of anger. This man placed these doves above him. Would Medic rape his beloved Archimedes? Pyro crossed his arms over his chest, looked out into the empty med bay.
"Now, my little one," Medic's sudden switch to English jerked Pyro from his thoughts, "How are you feeling?" Pyro turned; Medic had put Archimedes back in the cage and now stood much too close for comfort.
"... Better." No matter how much he tried, Pyro couldn't meet the other man's eyes.
"I should assume, seeing as you entered my office without permission. Are you hungry?"
Pyro's face burned. "Yes." Very hungry, in fact. He was guided out of the office and Medic closed the door despite the insistent calls of the birds within. There was a tray of food on one of the counters and a glass of orange juice. Pyro's stomach rumbled again, but not from sickness. Medic chuckled.
"You may have breakfast in a moment. But first." Large fingers tangled in Pyro's hair, pushed the younger man to his knees. "Go on..."
Pyro was still for a moment or two, debating with himself, surprised that Medic tolerated his hesitation. With a frozen sigh, Pyro closed his eyes and made his choice.
Medic, for the record, was thrilled.
He gagged in his flame-retardant suit. The taste wouldn't leave his mouth, no matter what he did. He had brushed his teeth until his gums bled and now his mouth reeked of blood and Medic's semen and toothpaste. Pyro walked slowly behind Medic, visibly wilted, his ax and shotgun strapped to his back. Heavy and Engineer were walking with Medic, the three men discussing something. Pyro wasn't listening; instead he was focused on putting as much physical distance as possible between himself and the three men without getting in trouble. He wanted to talk to Scout.
He wanted to strangle Medic with his bare hands.
He wanted to blow the whole fucking base sky high.
Maybe Scout had had the right idea with telling the Administrator. Their contracts had been very firm in that regard though: the eighty-six page document had explicitly spelled out that withdrawal from the contract was impossible. Scout had lied though, had said they were fighting. He had said nothing about the rapes. If RED knew, though, wouldn't that be severe enough to warrant some kind of action? If they knew.
Pyro actually stopped walking as his wandering eyes caught a familiar presence in the corner.
What if the Administrator already knew. There were cameras all over base, everywhere except for the merc's private rooms. The rec room, the kitchen, Engineer's workshop, the med bay, Demo's lab. The knowledge that he was constantly on film had become so ingrained that he had never even thought of it before. That was a lot of cameras to watch though, that would require a lot of monitoring. Then again... if RED could keep track of how many times he fired his goddamn air blast, how many times Sniper threw piss on someone...
They already knew.
"Pyro!" The backhand came unexpected and yanked him from his thoughts. He stared at Medic through the smoky lenses, dazed.
"What has gotten into you?" Medic demanded. He didn't seem angry so much as annoyed; Engineer stood a few feet away and the Texan watched them with interest. Pyro mumbled something, knowing that Medic wouldn't understand him anyway, but he made sure to make it sound apologetic.
"I will have to inspect you after battle today, but until then, keep the daydreaming to a minimum. Am I understood?"
"Good boy. Now come along."
Pyro cackled with glee as he air-blasted the BLU Sniper off of the cliff. He leaned over the edge, just a little, to see the man's body dash upon the jagged rocks below. A loud yell rent the air, followed by two ear-shattering blasts. Pyro ducked back to a nearby building just in time to see Scout and Spy trying to take down the BLU Soldier. Spy landed his backstab, but died simultaneously as the Soldier fired one last rocket. Scout hustled over to Pyro, making sure to spit on Spy's corpse on his way.
"Heavy's comin'," Scout said and gestured behind him, "Demo was with us but that Soldier got a lucky crit. Fucker." He spat again into the dry dirt, sweaty and excited. Pyro grabbed Scout's thin arm and pulled the younger man to a small storage area.
"Py, what-" Scout quieted when Pyro unzipped his mask just a little bit, enough to say:
"Scout, of course the Administrator knows what is going on, there are cameras in the base." As quickly as he had opened his mask, Pyro closed it quickly. The quick gasp of fresh air against his face had felt great, but it wasn't worth being stared at.
"Well," he said in response, and then his face paled, "Oh fucking shit. You're right. I never, I never even thought about that. Just got so used to the cameras." Scout turned away, shook his head, "Oh, fucking God, man." The very recognizable sound of a minigun spinning up cut him off though, and Scout glanced out the window. "Heavy's friendly, we better go. Maybe tonight we can talk, yeah?"
As they exited the building, there was a series of roars from the left and all too late came the sound of grenades popping. Scout turned neatly on his heel and bolted, and then the ground shook like an earthquake. The explosion kicked up dust and dirt, threw Pyro into the air. He could see nothing through the smoke, hear only muffled blasts through the gasmask. He felt weightless. All of his limbs had somehow lost feeling and Pyro could taste blood as he passed out.
It was cold again. He felt like a wet rag; his sweat had nowhere to evaporate to within the humid suit and lay heavy on his skin. Pyro opened his eyes, immediately flinched as his left leg bellowed at him in pain, but he lay still. He had no idea where he was; it was best to play dead until he had gathered stock of the situation. It felt like he had been put through a cotton gin; his whole body ached and burned to some degree.
Laying there, crumpled on the ground like a broken toy, Pyro listened. Nothing. Everything was absolutely silent and for a moment he thought he had gone deaf. Then he noticed how dark it was, how frigid he felt. Was I down that long? He risked turning over, slowly, found that he was rolling further into the ditch where he had apparently landed. He sighed with relief as he realized that it wasn't night time at all - he was just enveloped in a heavy shade, provided by the bridge a few feet above him.
His leg still blazed and the air in his suit was stuffy and smelled horrible. He had pissed himself somewhere along the way. It happened sometimes, to all of the men. Their human bodies still had it automatic reflexes, no matter how many times they died. Cautiously, Pyro unzipped his mask, pulled it off. Fresh, dry air rushed him and he coughed a few times. Each cough was answered by his leg pulsing numbly - Pyro looked down and grimaced. There was an ugly and messy gash on his thigh. The thick rubber suit had been torn through, was covered in a dry layer of dark blood. He had been laying here for a while then, if the blood was dry.
Pyro listened carefully again; still there was no sound. His mouth was so dry, but maybe he could call out:
Nothing. Pyro sighed and unzipped his suit further to take care of his leg. He ripped his t-shirt into long strips, bound them around his leg to stop the bleeding. He zipped his suit back up and wriggled out from underneath the bridge. It hurt, a lot, but he had experienced worse. He would experience worse. The gasmask stared at him from the ground and he debated putting it back on, wrinkled his nose at his own stench and opted against it.
All of his weapons were gone, but he found a discarded shotgun a few feet away. The dark gunmetal glinted dully in the low sun. Low sun? Pyro turned to the west; sure enough, while it was still daylight, the sun was dipping towards the horizon.
The battle was over. It had to be like 1800 or even later. Shit, Medic was going to kill him! He grabbed the shotgun just in case, found that it made a useful makeshift cane.
Face curled with a worried scowl, Pyro hobbled to the closest respawn. It wasn't far, thankfully, and it only took Pyro about fifteen minutes to reach despite his injuries. The teleporter in the back was connected to the main base; there was one in every respawn.
He stumbled back off of the teleporter pad, now in the main teleporter room in the base, lost his balance and crashed to the floor. He probably should have felt pain but now all he could feel was that pervasive cold.
The smooth linoleum felt good against his face and he felt his muscles melt. He lay there for a few minutes. The med bay wasn’t far, hopefully he could just apologize to Medic and be healed. Medic would understand, right? He hadn’t done it on purpose. His throat tightened.
What if he does get mad?
Pyro’s stomach gurgled and he burped grossly. There was only one way to find out.
The first thing coming to my mind when Pyro vomited was that he is pregnant. This was a wonderful chapter, really enjoyed reading it. I find it strange the men's aggression rates have increased, I thought sex is supposed to make people happier. Their reactions are complete opposites.
Ooooohhhh dear... Pyro's gonna be in deep trouble. Feel bad for him already!
i don't know why i feel like i need to establish this, but here goes.
pyro is not pregnant.
Oh hey, this is updating again, awesome. I'll just keep this tab open for checking back every other day or so; the story is definitely getting even more interesting now.
interior crocodile alligator i drive a chevrolet movie theater.
i don't know german but i tried to make sure it was at least plausibly correct.
The teleporter room smelled like oil and Engineer’s cologne. Pyro frowned. Several monitors lined one wall, and a steel blast door lead to a small, air conditioned room full of computer servers. Engineer spent a lot of time in here, doing what Pyro didn't know. Probably calibrating or sticking his thumb up his asshole, who knew.
In any case, he had to get out of there in case Engineer showed up. It was doubtful that the Texan would try anything, given Pyro's protected status, but Pyro didn't want to risk anything.
That file Engineer's aggression increased by, what 25%? What does that mean? Why was Engineer’s score so much higher than Soldier?
He carefully maneuvered to his feet and stood up. His knees shook and for a second he feared that he might collapse again. Pyro positioned the shotgun on the floor, muzzle down, and took a few wobbly steps. It helped to have his weight braced against the gun. There we go.
"What are y'doing in here, sheila? Making a racket - oh," Sniper stood in the doorway, stared at Pyro.
"You can't touch me," he blurted, "Medic and Heavy will, uh."
"They'll what?" the thin man taunted. He came nearer, smelling like fetterless Camels and sweat. His body brushed against Pyro's shoulder and Pyro set his weight and pushed, hard. Sniper cursed as he was knocked into a table.
Pyro grimaced and hobbled away as fast as physically possible. The med bay wasn't far. Sniper didn't appear behind him, why? Maybe he really was afraid of Medic and just wanted to harass Pyro. Especially since Scout was protected by Spy now. Right?
He remembered watching Spy violate Scout, remembered how he lay dying in the corner and watched his only friend get fucked by a shape-shifting rat.
The med bay door was in sight, the left one partially ajar, and Pyro hastened his pace. So close! His knee buckled in a sudden spasm of pain and Pyro groaned as he fell to the ground again. The shotgun clattered away noisily, except -
"Sohn von einem Weibchen!" Medic was mad as hell. Heavy's voice responded, sounded apologetic and very clearly speaking German. Pyro hadn't known that Heavy understood German at all, let alone spoke it so fluently. He had no idea what the two men were yelling about and Pyro lay on the floor silently. Was Medic mad because he had disappeared? But Pyro had the locator chip implanted in him now... wouldn't Medic have been
able to find him?
He lay there, as quiet as possible, barely breathing, and listened. Medic was still yelling and then there was a series of slaps. Was... Was Medic hitting him? There was a pained sound that sounded like Heavy, was too deep to be Medic's voice.
Oh my God.
Medic said something, not yelling any longer but still recognizably enraged. The door was thrown suddenly, slammed Pyro straight in the nose and he groaned .
"Pyro?! Where have you been?" Medic seemed more surprised than anything, and he knelt upon seeing the wounded leg. He scooped the smaller man up easily, turned to take him into the med bay. Pyro sighed as he was placed on a table. "I am becoming tired of your games."
Heavy was nowhere to be seen, but a shirt that was much too large to belong to Medic was draped over one of the counters.
"I'm sorry," Pyro's mouth was dry and his guts fluttered anxiously, "I got - I got blasted under a bridge on the map and knocked out, I swear." He tried to regulate his tone, his pacing, but his words came out rushed and afraid, "I came back as soon as I woke up. Sniper saw me in the teleporter room when I came back through. He - he tried to -" he faltered, unsure of how to describe what had happened.
"Did he injure you?"
Strong hands ran over his limbs, felt and palpated Pyro's body as the rubber suit was carefully removed.
"No. He got real close to me and I shoved him. He left
me alone then."
"Heavy," Medic called, "Hierher kommen und mir helfen." The doctor was strong, easily helped Pyro to his feet. Heavy came out of the office and Pyro tried not to stare. Heavy was shirtless, his face and chest flushed pink. He hovered beside Medic like a massive shadow. Medic made a noise of disapproval.
Pyro stared at the ceiling dumbly. Time bent and he felt fuzzy. Everything was cold, then his leg was warm, then he felt hot all over, then he was on his feet and -
"Pyro?" Medic was shaking him vigorously and he stared at the doctor, lost. Heavy was gone, but his shirt remained on the other table.
"Medic?" he asked.
"There is clearly something wrong with you," the German shook his head, stroked Pyro's hair absently, "We will examine you after you shower. You are filthy." Pyro couldn't disagree, he reeked of piss and smoke and sweat. But showering... he hated showering with Medic.
"I was stuck on under the bridge," he whispered again, "Please don't be mad."
"What?" Medic raised an eyebrow, "No, Heavy and I
were... it doesn't matter. Come with me."
"Uh," Pyro paused. The medigun was still humming in its rack. The pigeons rustled in Medic's office.
"Yes?" Medic was close to him, close enough that Pyro had to look up.
"Can I shower in my shower downstairs, please." His cheeks burned and he couldn't meet Medic's eyes.
"Hmm... since you asked so nicely, I think that can be done. I believe that you were knocked unconscious, such a thing happened to Spy earlier this week. Also, I can tell when you lie. Such a good boy. And you did so well this morning. Such good behavior clearly deserves a reward, don’t you think?"
Pyro wondered idly what it Medic would look like with a broken nose. He let himself be led downstairs, to his room, perked up immediately upon sight of his salamander tank.
"You may take care of them after you bathe and I examine you," Medic instructed, guided Pyro to the shower. The little private bathroom was reasonably sized, something that had always been a benefit until now. There was enough room that Medic could watch him shower and Pyro paused. "Remove your clothing."
He couldn't make his limbs move and Pyro stared at the
blacked out mirror set into the wall. What did they look like, the piss-and-blood-soaked pyromaniac and the rapist sociopath?
"I will not warn you a third time." Now he moved, unzipped his suit, stepped out of his boots, shrugged off the suspenders that helped hold up the heavy rubber trousers, pulled down the cotton shorts and his standard briefs. The air seared against his cheeks and Medic gestured to the faucet.
"Go ahead and bathe."
Pyro turned away. Maybe he could pretend that Medic wasn't there. It felt good to shower in his own bathroom again though, away from so many prying eyes. Just two eyes this time. He soaped himself up, managed to actually kind of forget about Medic. The air was steamy and hot and the caked-on filth began to melt. The dark rivulets striped him like a zebra, stark against the tan skin and wrinkled pink tissue.
When he turned off the faucet and turned around, Medic was gone. A towel sat on the sink and Pyro reached for it, dried himself off thoroughly before he wrapped it around his waist.
He found Medic feeding the salamanders, observing their movements with some kind of intense disinterest.
"They aren't meant to live together. They are solitary creatures," he informed. His mind was clearly somewhere else. Pyro began to dress himself. It felt good to be clean again, to have clean dry cotton against his skin.
"I know but they get along well enough,” he offered.
“Are you dressed? Let us go examine you. My report to the Administrator is due tomorrow and it is far from complete." Pyro followed the other man dutifully, out of the room and up the stairs. He took one last wistful glance at his beloved amphibians.
Demo's exuberant voice echoed from his lab, and it sounded like Engineer's twang responded. Upon entering the still deserted med bay, Medic turned to Pyro.
"Get up on the table."
He was thorough, inspected Pyro's eyes with a small light, looked into Pyro's nostrils and down his throat and into his ears. The large hand was huge and cool against his chest as Medic listened to his breathing, his pulse. Medic shook his head, marked Pyro’s status on a clipboard.
"You are, physically, fine. I will have to check your respawn scans. I do not have time for that this evening. You may go spend the evening as you please, but do not forget your curfew at 2100 hours. Do you understand?" Pyro nodded automatically. "Give me a kiss." He rose on his tiptoes, screwed his eyes shut and kissed Medic.
"Yes," Medic murmured against his lips, wrapped Pyro in a firm embrace. Pyro twisted awkwardly, forced himself to relax. After entirely too long, he was finally released. "You may go."
Pyro didn't need to be told twice.
He spent a blissfully uneventful night in his room. He cleaned the salamander tank, dusted his bookshelf, tidied up his room. The bullet holes still laced the ceiling but the debris had long since been cleared away. He reread Cry, The Beloved Country by Alan Paton, mused on the tragedy of a father having to bury his son.
Fifteen minutes before 2100, he shelved the book and made his way back upstairs. The hallway was quiet and Pyro hurried to Medic’s room before he ran into, well, anyone. Just as he went to knock on the door, he heard something: a thump from inside the room.
He knocked and waited. No response.
Then, Medic, muffled through the door.
“Come in, Pyro.”
Slowly, Pyro turned the knob and pushed the door open and stared. He almost slammed the door behind him in his haste, uttered a soft curse at the sight.
Heavy was bent over the bed, face crimson and shining with sweat. He was fully clothed but his pants were around his thighs and Medic was fucking him. Medic moaned shamelessly and Heavy choked on his on tongue and Pyro couldn’t tell if Heavy was willing or not.
One thing he could tell; he didn’t want to watch this.
“Come here,” Medic beckoned to him, breathless.
“I said come here!”
Pyro obeyed, looked at the wall instead of at the monsters before him. Medic grabbed his chin, kissed him roughly. The German’s pace quickened slightly and Medic sighed when he came. Pyro stood, as still as a cliff face, and watched.
His body vibrated and if Pyro didn’t know any better he would have sworn that he was intoxicated. Medic pulled away, nodded briefly as he tucked himself back into his trousers.
“I must finish my report,” he bit, and just like that he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. Heavy stood, pulled his pants up and sat on the bed.
“What. The fuck. Is going on.” Pyro’s words were measured, a frail balance between meek and infuriated. Heavy didn’t answer, instead reached out to snag Pyro in his grasp.
“What – let go!”
“I do not want Medic to hear me, the walls are thin,” Heavy whispered urgently, his lips flush against Pyro’s ear. His warm breath sent involuntary tickles down Pyro’s spine and he shivered, grudgingly allowed Heavy to spoon him onto the bed, “He will not be suspicious if he comes in and sees us like this.”
“Whatever,” Pyro snarked, but kept his voice down. Maybe Heavy wasn’t lying? He shifted against the barrel-like chest, embarrassed.
“It is of utmost importance that I obey Medic. I cannot tell you why.”
“Yeah, so important that you need to rape me. Fuck you.” Heavy paused, and Pyro wondered for a minute if he had crossed the line. If Heavy really had an ulterior motive, why would he allow Pyro to insult him? Maybe Heavy was telling the truth.
“You have every right to be angry,” the Russian agreed solemnly, and it rendered Pyro unable to respond. “You and Scout, you could escape if you stole Engineer’s truck, or Sniper’s-”
“Why is everyone going crazy,” Pyro interrupted, though Heavy’s idea was a very good one. “I read files. In Medic’s office. They said that Soldier and Engineer have increasing levels of aggression.”
“Did Medic catch you?” Heavy seemed much more concerned
about this, didn’t even seem fazed by what Pyro had said.
“No, I don’t think so. I don’t know. Why is everyone going crazy?”
“I do not know,” he admitted, “But that explains many things.”
The door creaked open and Heavy instinctively tightened his grip on Pyro. The younger man squirmed.
“Well don’t you two look cute,” the German was pleased, “Keep her company, Heavy.”
The light was turned out. Pyro blinked in the dark. The room brightened a little when Medic opened the door.
“Feel free to fuck her. Good night, Pyro.”
“Good night Medic…”
The door to the medical bay was left open and a few rays of light trickled in.
“Try to sleep,” Heavy whispered, “We will talk more tomorrow.” Pyro groused some kind of response and pulled away from Heavy’s
grasp. He rolled over, cuddled against a pillow.
Fuck, I am tired.
Hey Eggwhites,I know I'm a bit late, but can you put this in a new thread? The stories are vastly different now, and also new readers will be immediately turned off by the previous...fiasco.
This is much better,BTW. It seems there is actually plot now! I'm interested more on the background of what's happening....
I don't think you should start a new thread for this. People who haven't read how everything started wouldn't understand a thing. It's lovely how you're so active updating this. This is one of my favorites and I couldn't be more pleased you decided to continue this. I don't understand the complaints about the "fiasco", it was beautifully written and described Pyro's life and feelings incredibly well. Sure, the other team members were in shade, but I assume that was because everything was described from Pyro's point of view. He doesn't care what the others think and feel as they're his enemies. That's how I took it and it didn't bother me at all.
Good sir, as a common fan of your writings, I order you to update this! ;D
That's odd... I thought there was supposed to be an update over here..? Either the #196 is actually using the nick "Anonymous" and didn't sage or something weird happened. In any case, I am very disappointed.