|1||Gutes Tun (TF2 Medic Fanfic)||2||8 November 2014 00:16|
|2||Harvest||151||8 October 2014 11:13|
|3||An Unusual Evening in Stuttgart||3||14 August 2014 06:53|
|4||Hi, I'm looking for this fanfic||3||10 August 2014 18:50|
|5||Looking for a lost/deleted fanfic||14||30 July 2014 07:41|
|6||Afterwards, cont'd.||189||23 July 2014 13:20|
|7||The Terror of the MilkMenn||8||15 July 2014 05:08|
|8||Looking for an old fic||3||23 May 2014 11:23|
|9||Dotchan's Massive Text Tump Thread||118||12 May 2014 02:48|
|10||Devil With A Blue Dress||47||10 May 2014 11:35|
|11||Mercenary morning||1||6 March 2014 19:02|
|12||The TF2's have dinner||20||24 February 2014 03:42|
|13||Request Thread Go!||123||13 February 2014 04:10|
|14||Melusine||1||23 January 2014 03:38|
|15||TF2chan Secret Santa Exchange 2013||1||7 December 2013 05:33|
|New Thread | All Threads|
(Author's Note:) I'd always suspected the Medic was based on the many infamous mad doctors from Germany during WW2, and after learning of the game's time period, it only confirmed it for me. I guess you could call this somewhat of a "head cannon" to the Medic's backstory.
The Hippocratic Oath states: "First, do no harm." That's the solemn vow every medical practitioner must make. It's a promise to retain the health of the people, to preserve their life and not cause any additional harm of your own. It's an oath I have taken, and it's the oath I live by; just as my father did before me. I was no more than a young boy when I took that oath, and I will forever remember the day my father did the honor of initiating me into the world of medicine.
My father was rarely at home when I was young. Practically from the moment of my birth, he was gone on long trips of business for months on end. I only saw him on the holidays, or the sparse few weeks he would return to our cottage outside of Stuttgart to be with us. My mother explained very early on that I should be proud of my father's absence, because the reason for it was his respected position as a surgeon; travelling to various cites all across Germany and Austria to heal people who needed him.
Due to this, I would eagerly await my father's return so I could ask him about all the places he had visited and the people he had saved. I don't know why I did in retrospect, because he never answered any of my questions. All he would do when I asked him about his travels was pat my head and hand me a gift he had bought me from where he had been. Despite this, I kept asking. When time after time yielded no results, I changed my inquiries from questions about his travels, to requests to join him on his travels. I wanted to see these places myself if he wouldn't tell me himself.
The first time I asked him, I was met with a harsh rejection. He told me I was too young to go anywhere but school, and then left the next morning. Still, I never stopped asking. For years I per
Here's an anon that's namefagging. Hey there. I started this back in September and have been messing with it for awhile. I'm kind of stuck at the moment, and since the chan was wiped and we're super deprived of fanfic at the moment, I thought it might be a decent time to post a couple chapters and see if it's worth continuing. It's my first fic ever, and I don't normally consider myself a writer, so I'm curious to see if this is up to par or not.
It was originally written for Halloween, but now that that holiday has come and gone I guess I don't know. I would say that it's in the same sort of genre as Eximplode's 'The Nucleus Incident', but I don't want to be presumptuous enough to compare myself to that fic. Okay enough blah blah here's some story.
It started when the Soldier died.
Actually, it could have started when the Sniper came back from a hunt with a mauled forearm, claiming he was attacked by some sort of rabid coyote. Or it could have started when the supply trucks stopped coming in, which had forced Sniper to go hunt up some game in order to feed the team in the first place. It could have even started with their transfer to Harvest in the beginning of October. Something had felt off from the beginning, the Scout had said so often. But the Soldier’s death was the first time the team realized something strange was happening.
It wasn’t the death that was surprising; it had taken some time, but the employees of both RED and BLU were accustomed to their unique existence thanks to the mysterious Respawn Rooms located in all of their bases. Death was, at worst, a painful nuisance. No matter how gruesome their fate, the team members would always reappear in Respawn, good as new, ready to fight again. After awhile battle tactics had adjusted to account for Respawn, and the Soldier especially relied on it during his many screaming kamakazie attacks on the enemy REDs.
So it wasn’t a surprise to anyone that the Soldier had died. The surprise was that he stayed dead. The Scout had stumbled upon the body after ceasefire, when the teams were returning to their b
As a disclaimer, if M. Gui or the mods ever see fit to remove this, that's perfectly fine. In no way, do I think this will ever replace the original stories intended ending. The sole reason for wanting to adopt this story was as homage to the original story and author, and to give closure to an intriguing fic.
This will likely have a few installments, as it would be a sin to end this in a neat one post package. I'll try to write an installment everyday.
Hope you guys enjoy! It's been few years since I wrote for TF2/accents, so my apologies for any mistakes.
Their life they had built at Tuefort had seemed like a pipe dream from the very start. They had no idea what they had forged there would be in jeopardy so quickly though. In hind sight, perhaps eating the REDs as well as their own team mates had been a bad idea. Though, these new BLUs had never really been considered part of their team; rather, no more than a new food source and a way to blend in.
As much as Engineer tried to convince himself and his two team mates otherwise... they were monsters. And now both teams were getting wise to that fact as well. The Texan would have liked to have blamed it all on his two water loving team mates, who had never seen anything wrong about preying off those around them, but he too was at fault. Perhaps more so.
Medic had grown wise to the missing blood, and had stopped storing new samples. Without that ready supply, Engineer couldn't stop his hunger, and in a fit of fury and starvation, he had ripped out the throat of an enemy Scout in broad daylight, surrounded by team colors of both sides. Exposing himself as not only a threat; but as a monster as his exposed skin started to crisp and wither to the bone, in the day's heat.
It was that event that now found the three hurriedly making their way through the sewers of Tuefort, and back towards the pipes that had originally brought them here. Perhaps this was for the best. They had been growing bored of life here; and being called out as monsters had reminded them of what they had left behind. If they had any chance of reclaiming their past lives and h
When they arrived in the aqua-filter beneath the point of Harvest, it was already morning. Being underground the Spook and Aussie had to take the Texans' word, when he said that he could feel the sun had risen. It had been a long swim back to this place. One they almost hadn't all made.
Though the Sniper could hold his breath for quite a long time, he did need to breath eventually. The first time they had gone through, there had been openings every so often, that the werecroc could stick his snout up to, to refill his lungs. The water must have risen since there last trip through, and there had been some panic in the pipes when the bushman couldn't find air.
Luckily they had found an air pocket further along the pipes... though Engineer and Spy were mostly dragging him at that point. They were still closer to Tuefort by then, that had the Aussie drowned, he would have respawned back there. It had been a close call, that no one wished repeating. After that, the Spy had swam ahead, scouting out breathing holes for his comrade.
Now in Harvest, Engineer had assured them that if they died, it would be this respawn that would pick them up... not that his words held much comfort. They all still believed it was the respawn that had originally made them this way, and no one wanted to see what would change about them next, if they were to die again. What they might become.
"I guess we could hole up here till the sun goes down." The Engineer sighed, tilting his head back as he studied the ladder and opening high above them.
Good evening, TF2chan! Some of you may remember me from way back on page 5 of this board; I drifted away from the fandom and then came rushing back a month ago. I'm a bit sad to see this board pretty dead in the water (are you guys all over on Tumblr now or something?), so as a sort of apology for the fact that I never finished the one where Medic gets sick and hilarity ensues, here's a fic I wrote several years ago and then just recently went back and overhauled.
It's based completely unashamedly on the song Strange Day In Berlin by Sally Oldfield, and contains loads of melodrama and mentions of Heavy/Medic. Hope you enjoy!
It was an unusual evening in Stuttgart, and it was going to rain. Throughout the day the clouds had piled up over the city, and now they stood arrayed like battleships along the horizon, waiting for some unknown signal. The air was electric. Down below, the city could sense the gathering storm, and its people drew their coats a little tighter, gripped their children’s hands a little harder as they hurried to get home before the calm broke.
From the table outside the old café, the man sat and watched. He had been there for some time. The remnants of the spring breeze ran its earthy fingers through his greying hair. He held the day’s paper in calloused hands, though there was little in it of note. Faint scars spread up his bare forearms and spoke of a more interesting past than did the grey waistcoat and severe glasses. The coffee by his elbow was long since cold, but he didn’t order another. Instead he sat, and he watched, and he waited, as the streets emptied and the shadows grew longer.
Finally, when the night had swallowed the last of the light and silence descended, a figure formed itself out of the darkness between the streetlamps and took on the shape of a man. He wore a well-cut suit and an air of secrecy, and he took the vacant seat outside the café.
“You’re late,” said the grey-haired man after some time, not looking up from the paper. “I’ve been here all day.”
“My apologies,” said the man in the suit, and his German was impeccable but
Wow I love this so far, I'm so happy to see someone posting here, thank you so much <3 Can't wait to read on, I hope you stick with it! So wonderful and descriptive and you've made me so curious to find out what happens next!
A fic about sniper fishing near a lake and stumbles upon tentaspy. First encounter went with sniper accidentally falling through a cave and tentaspy attacking him. He does not kill sniper however and returns him safely back to the lake. Second encounter is when tentaspy got injured and sniper offered him a bucket of fish. Third encounter, sniper went spelunking and got lost in the cave, and spy offered help... oh yeah, there's also hot springs and backstory of spy suffering from the experiments
Apologies, for the lack of spoiler warnings...sorry about that :(
Hey guys, a few weeks ago a fic was deleted and I was hoping if someone knew either if it has been posted somewhere else or maybe why it was deleted?
I can't remember the name of it for the life of me, but it was a series of one-shots about a fem!RED pyro and her interactions with the team. It's a bit of a typical OOC fic, but if you've found it, or anything like it, I'd appreciate it!
>>12 Thank you so much! That means a whole lot to me! Thank you!
Hey everybody! The last thread for Afterwards is now no longer bumping, so it's time for a new thread.
Don't forget to read Reunion here: http://dotchan.com/?p=1876
And Afterwards parts 1-12 here: http://dotchan.com/?p=2096
Sorry about the amount of time that goes between updates, hopefully the wait will be shorter next time.
“… And that’s about everything I know about it, really.” Engineer gave a sigh. “I was hopin’ this would be about where you’d come in…”
“I see,” said Ilse. She took a sip of her coffee, her expression hard to read; straight-faced as usual. “Zis is all… very interesting.”
My internet was out last night, but it hasn't been out. And yes, I did sell some artwork at a con this year, and hope to sell more later this year. And no, I didn't update and not put it on the chan.
Honestly I feel like I have bitten off way more than I can chew with this story and I am becoming more doubtful that I'll ever finish. I've lost a lot of my enthusiasm for the story and each update ends up leaving me scrambling to keep up with it as far as my characterization is concerned. That, and I've been finding it hard to get motivated to do much of anything lately.
I don't know if I'm going to work on it. I guess it's on hiatus.
If I change my mind, I'll let you guys know.
Summary: a prior RED team discovers something sinister going on at their base.
Apologies if the prologue is too long...i wanted to channel current TF2 events to lead into this one
Prologue: Australia at Night
Four figures sit around a campfire, roasting chunks of bear meat and 35 year old hot dogs on wattle sticks. Surrounding them is the vast darkness of the Australian Outback at night. In the distance, a dingo howls, and the youngest of the group, the Scout, darts his eyes nervously.
"Aww geez," he whines. "Why couldn't've Snipes come from someplace nicer...like with butterflies or fluffy bunnies?"
The large bald man from across from him, the Heavy, gives an amused smile. "Would like to be in Russia again? Leetle dog here like mouse to bear at home."
"No way!" Scout snaps, almost dropping his hot dog into the fire. "That was freakin' scary and I never wanna go back! Besides, it's way warmer here." He brings the link out of the flames, examining it for any hint of rawness before taking a bite from the end.
"Kid's got a point," Soldier smacks between mouthfuls of bear jerky. "I wouldn't set foot in your country even if it was a democracy. Though I am gonna miss the brunette with the nice bazooms."
ag ack! I'm so stupid for leaving that out...a lapse of judgment on my part because i thought the prologue was long enough as it is...-derping so hard right now-
Anyways, the way first chapter is going, there's going to be quite a lot of reading meat for you to sink teeth in, I promise.
apologies for the long wait, other events came up in life. Chapter 1 is also going to be a 2 parter, as i am currently restructuring the second half of the story. Enjoy
[b]Chapter 1: The New Medic (part one)
1964. It was the year Britain invaded America with fresh hip music, while America sent her young men to Vietnam. Hippies didn't exist in that time; instead they were called "conscientious objectors" and bathed regularly. The Civil Rights Movement was in full swing and they had just scored a victory with the Civil Rights Act of 1964, guaranteeing that no one wouldn't be discriminated against based on race, color, religion, sex, or national origin. But in spite of being an era of change, one feud chose to stay constant for almost a hundred years.
In the barren deserts of New Mexico, Redmond and Blutarch Mann continue their unending battle over the control of their father's lands, using hired mercenaries to carry out their dirty work. The 18 men are lorded over by a chain-smoking harpy of a woman named Helen, known more by her title of Administrator. She takes great pride in watching them blow each other up, while keeping neutral to her bosses.
But the story does not begin there as it normally would. Instead, it takes place hundreds of miles to the north and east, in the state of Wisconsin. A land of beer, cheese and savage wilderness, Wisconsin was a perfect storm of harsh conditions--from below freezing, blizzard weather in the winter, to hot, mosquito infested summers. Located in the central part of the state is Adams County, a rural area with equal parts farmland and thick pine forest. In one such dense forest, an old gravel logging trail leads to a forbidding chain link fence topped with both barbed and electrified wire. A sign on the gate warns that the area belongs to TF Industries, and trespassing is punishable by death. Through the gate, the road travels almost a mile before it splits in two; each one leading to opposite sides of a clearing where there are two large dairy barns-one red and one blue- situated about 50 apart from each other. They, too, are surrounded by a 10 foot fence of sheet metal wit
I can't remember where it was from, but basically it is after the war and the mercs all get together. Pyro has dies and Medic steals the body to analyse it.
Turns out that pyro was a robot the whole time and Engie is devastated
I would appreciate it if anyone knows this one, I have been looking for it forever...
I guess this is the fic you are looking for :)
New board + new thread = copy pasta of old stuff that I was sort of working on.
The now ex-Pyro stared back like a deer in the headlights, her mouth opening and closing several times before any words could come out. "What? Why?"
The Announcer rolled her eyes and exhaled a long stream of smoke. "It's in the rulebook under 'Don't Have Sex With the Enemy'. Look it up."
"I am well aware of the so-called 'extenuating circumstances', because otherwise you would have just been shown the door with no hope of ever regaining meaningful employment anywhere in the world. All the arrangements have already been made." The Announcer gestured, and the suited escorts made their presence known once more. "Your personal affects will be sent to you via parcel post."
The Announcer drummed her fingers on the table while she waited for the room to clear, tuning out the feeble protests. Then she pressed the buzzer to call the next offender into her office.
The first time the Pyro failed to return to base along with the rest of the team, they had assumed that she was chasing down stragglers to give them one last well-deserved toasting before the round ended and went about their business. It wasn't until almost a week later, when a thorough search of the territories they controlled turned up empty that any of them thought to check the video feeds being sent back to Headquarters for evaluation, and that was when they realized that the last mission the Pyro was seen participating in had been a trap laid by the other side to capture her.
Ooop, I've been meaning to leave my thoughts on this for a while but I've just not had the time. Which was frustrating, because for someone who leaves so much critique for others you more than deserve some in return. So here we go!
Firstly, I really like where this is going. Overall, inclusive of your previous work, you've got a great knack for setting up the scene and getting the reader to feel for the characters. It makes your work a delight to read. I especially enjoy when you employ punchy sentences, like in >>111 and >>113 to use more recent examples.
So reading >>115 though getting me excited for where it's headed, feels a lot more... rough in comparison to some of your earlier work. As you noted at the beginning of the post, the sentences are quite long and could very easily be cut into smaller, manageable sizes. The beginning especially suffers from having such a long starting sentence, because your hook gets swallowed by everything else that is going on. You could try something like...
What initial camaraderie existed between the two factions disappeared as swiftly as it had formed. Once clear that the situation was not as dire as anyone had feared, both sides realised they could handle the worst that Grey threw at them on their own. All without having to grit their teeth and work with those they'd been trying to kill for what felt like years. ...
Of course, if going with this kind of introduction, you would want to reword a part of the second paragraph to show the shift in focus to BLU team.
The rest of the fic, as I said before, could do with shortening those long sentences to make it an easier read. But other than that, I haven't got any real complaints. I enjoyed it and want the next section already!
Bleh, procrastinated on this long enough. Putting Solly's fate on a cliffhanger instead, so that I can ponder where he actually ends up once BLU decides to put the band back together.
Whenever his own Demoman would ranted and raved that the government was attempting to control its population via tampering with the water supply--as if Uncle Sam would ever need to stoop so low--Soldier would in turn laugh off the absurd notion. But now that he was about to embark on his own in what must have been enemy territory, he figured it would be better to be safe than sorry. So in addition to the Dispenser he'd strapped to his back (Engie wasn't all too happy about letting Soldier have one of his babies, and in addition to a wall of words that the Soldier tuned out, gave Soldier a list of maintenance manual that must have been at least as thick as a New York phone directory and then some), Soldier packed all of the food and drink he could carry and made his way towards what he hoped to be one of the many emergency bunkers that were rumored to exist in case of events such as the situation they faced now. Even if everyone had agreed to not take action against the new head of Mann Co. ("That's Awesome Supremo Madame President Olivia to you, minion!"), Soldier figured their former employer owed them some answers. This wasn't a desired fueled by money; his service to BLU had never been about anything other than fighting the good fight. But ever since the first time BLU stopped existing in any meaningful manner, no matter how many robots he destroyed he couldn't stop laying awake at night wondering what purpose all of that screaming, exploding, and dying was for.
And now, left to his own devices, a stranger in a strange land, and running out of edible things no matter how much care he took to rationing his supplies, Soldier found his mind drifting more and more to places they'd ought not to go. Dark, traitrous thoughts he had no business entertaining even in his wildest dreams bubbled to the surface; the hallucination Tavish who'd appeared to him somewhere between Bumfuck, Nowhere and Admit It, You're Lost refused to go away
Eh, I wanted to edit those chapters, anyway. One more time with feeling!
A mysterious woman in blue recruits the nine classes
Devil With A Blue Dress
“I got the German; it wasn’t difficult.”
The woman in blue glanced at her left arm where a bandage was hidden beneath her jacket’s sleeve.
"The man in the red suit closed his eyes and let out a sigh, his features losing their ferocity as the intensity evaporated from him. When he opened his eyes again and met hers, a weary sadness bordered his words. 'Why, petite? Why?'"
Excuse me for a moment while my heart breaks...
I don't know how to explain myself without sounding like an utter sap, but this was sad.
Not gut wrenchingly boohoo sad, but a subtle pull at the heartstrings, just enough for it to hurt.
This was worth the wait, in my opinion, but right now I'm at the edge of my seat for Scout's story.
Ever since finding out who the mysterious blue woman was, his is the one I'm anticipating the most.
Hello, here is a set of oneshots featuring what looks like a morning before a mission for each of the mercenaries. I start with The Sniper.
The sun's rays passed through the window and came tickling his eyelids. He always parked his van facing east, just as the rising sun could wake him without fault at the earliest hours of the day. Mundy passed mechanically hand over his eyes, to protect them from light. « Gah... »
Awakenings were always difficult when you slept badly and you were woken up earlier and earlier, blame it that fucking sun and fucking summer approaching. He scratched his cheek he hesitated to classify it between rough and prickly, yawned longly, snapped a few shots his doughy tongue and fumbled for a jar in the close proximity to his cramped couchette. Urge to piss and too lazy to go down and out. And then it will make him an extra weapon. The mere idea of swinging the jar on the suit of that fucking degenerate Frenchie gave him an even more pleasant relief. It was once down from his bunk that the Aussie could extend his long limbs and his six feet three inches. There's nothing to else to say, the van was a place where he could be cushy, travel wherever he wanted, cram 57 Asian cheap whores together into it, but for some real space, you can come back an another day. The smallness of his bed forced him to sleep legs bent and whenever he realized that it looked like a spycrab, it annoyed him so much that he chucked sleeping bag out and he was going to sleep on the roof.
Mundy mechanically sought something to peck in the reduced space where he put his canned food but his hand met only a beer. A Foster's, not one of those junks that other countries brew and worth even less than his piss, no, a real Australian beer. But this will not fill his stomach. He had to go out and hunt something. It turned out then be reduced to seek his clothes between his bed and sofa, sniff them in order to check the odor and inhaled the hints of gun powder, wet tissue, soil and urine, and the musky scent of his own sweat. Critters would smell him miles away, he had to place himself in the opposite direction to the wind, because he did not have the time or
Dearest TF2chanlings, whilst working on a t-shirt design, I found this gem of a "wtf-fic" on the Steam forums.
"The TF2's have dinner" by Bobby Road.
They go to TGIF.
Scout orders a pepsi and a chicken nugget.
Soldier has a beer and steak.
Pyro just drink.
Demoman has pasta and alcohol drink.
Heavy orders two things cause he is fat.
Engineer a briskit.
Medic is eat fried steak.
Sniper has fried steak too, its good. And coffee cause he's tired.
Spy has oyster and French drink.
>>17 It might just be "Heavy eats a lot because he is the fat guy and his entire character is that he is fat and also dumb because English is his second language and he can't possibly be intelligent".
Which is a characterization that always got on my nerves.
Necrobump but I ain't even mad. How the fuck did I miss this the first time.
Still trying to wrap my head around the final sentence which I am positive contains the most profound nugget of wisdom when decoded; one that will surely lead us all to enlightenment and serenity.
Last one autosaged, so it's time for a new one.
This idea just won't leave my head. Feel free to denounce it as stupid, but I keep thinking of the whole team getting teleported to feudal Japan, and somehow Demoman ends up being worshiped as a physical incarnation of Amaterasu. Meanwhile, Japan has no idea what the fuck to make of the rest of the team, but assumes that they're with Demoterasu and so they're venerated on general principle...
I'd also love to see Scout or Soldier struggle with ceremonial robes (I think some of them had up to twelve layers).
Guess who's got more requests? (And hopes they didn't kill the thread)
-In the BtVS episode "Hush," demons referred to as "the Gentlemen" steal voices so no one can scream as they gather the hearts they need. What if this happened in 2Fort? (For an Afanfic variant, two of the team take advantage of the silence to have sex.)
-Another BtVS episode crossover: the infamous episode "Halloween."
-A fic based off the Scrubs episode "My Musical." Bonus points if there's a romantic duet.
Got some of my trademark awkward-horror to share, featuring Demo, Sniper, and a monster!Spy that may or may not be fem!Spy. I got lazy towards the end, but I just wanted to get a few scenes out of my head, you'll know what I'm talking about. Wink.
The Sniper risked much, insisting on sleeping in his camper nearly every night, far away from the others. More than once, the Demoman tried to impress upon him the dangers that lurked beyond the protection of the base, but the Sniper scoffed at his warnings. He was born in Australia, he had encountered and bested wild creatures specifically evolved to kill a man in a variety of unpleasant ways. Nothing in the relatively tame badlands of New Mexico could possibly pose a threat to an experienced hunter such as himself.
But that was the situation before the war between RED and BLU, back when the Badlands had not yet suffered from chemical leaks or radioactive contamination, of which lead happened to be the least harmful. Up until recently, this stretch of desert had avoided the taint of dark magic, and more importantly, the can-do attitude of some very scientific, very talented intellectuals. Now everything had changed, for the worse. Monstrous beasts have attacked humanity for far pettier reasons, the Demoman knew, and he reserved no doubts that the seething nexus of magic and science centered on the battlefield had already birthed horrors too unimaginable to even contemplate for one second before the brain shut itself down out of self-preservation.
That was why he alone must wage war for his teammate’s souls against the haunts that would prey on them as they slept. For he had seen beyond the veil that separated this existence from the other dimensions, and survived. The Demoman alone knew what must be done.
It took a third of a bottle of Scrumpy to hearten his body and open his mind, which he guzzled while he girded his sword and shield and sprinkled a few drops of his mother’s protection draught over his eye and chestplate. At his waist pouch, he also tucked away salt, herbs, amulets, and a precious silver vial of water blessed by a holy hermit. And if that wer