![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
titusnowlMedium: Fanfic based on a video game
Fandom: Team Fortress 2, the fic!verse that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cupiecake and I have invented
Subject: Spy/Scout, As Emo As Possible
Title: There Is No "Zis"
Warnings: NC-17 CONTENT BELOW THE CUT I REPEAT NC-17 HOMOSEXUAL (SLASH) CONTENT OF VARYING LEVELS OF EXPLICITNESS
Notes: The mix is arranged in the way that I felt flows best musically. Each track is accompanied by a lyrical snippet and a ficlet or a small section of a longer fic which has been inspired by/chosen for its appropriateness to the lyrical snippet. Because, like I said, the mix goes for musical flow, the "timeline" in the ficlets jumps around a lot; I hope this isn't too confusing to you.
All fic is a joint venture betweencupiecake and myself - I'm not sure I could tell you at this point who wrote which.
The fic!verse (also the 'verse in which my RPG is set) posits that Team Fortress 2 is a deathmatch-style reality tv show in a wartorn, dystopic future. This mix and its ficlets explore the Spy, the Scout, how they deal with being stuck in the arena until they die, and how theyrelate to TTLY WUV each other.
(click here to download without reading the gay - .zip, 94 mb)
"Michel," he said finally, still staring at the floor between his feet, "I did not mean for zis to happen." One gloved hand gestured vaguely between them. "I did not mean - to worry you."
"There is no 'zis,' cockfag. And I wasn't fucking worried - "
Deep Blue Something - Halo
If you didn't want this, and I didn't need it, then how did this interest become an addiction?
"So - you and the Spy got a thing going on?"
"No, fuck you. - Oh, for fuck's sake, don't look at me like that. It's not a thing, ok? Seriously, shut up. It's not. We're just fucking - fucking. We're just fucking. I'm his fuck-toy, ok, you happy? It's not a thing."
"Uh-huh."
"Yeah, what about you and the Demo?"
"Not a thing."
Muse - Unintended
You could be my unintended choice to live my life extended, you could be the one I'll always love
The first time he sees Marie-René naked, he's spent the last few days wondering if the man was even alive, cursing himself for being such a fucking pussy, worrying about the damn cockfag.
Marie-René is covered in bruises; he's got three neat stitches above his eyebrow that he sure as hell didn't do himself, and it wasn't the fucking medic 'cause that bastard hasn't touched the man. He'll have a spectacular black eye tomorrow, and a good sized knob on the back of his head for days where Michael'd hit him.
It's the first time they really fuck like equals.
It's the first time Marie-René falls asleep next to him, face looking eerily innocent in dreams.
It's the first time Michael really admits to himself that he's fucked.
The Hush Sound - Unsafe Safe
The last gift you'll ever get from me is the combination or the key, you won't disarm my heart
It is ironic, Marie-René thinks sometimes, that it is only when he is practically enslaved to begin with that his heart gives into enslavement as well. Often he looks at Michael Connelly and wonders what it is that this American boy-child has that he could not find in the many men and women of his freedom.
"What the fuck are you looking at, cockfag?" the boy asks, his accent glaring, his words much harsher than the expression easily read in his eyes, and Marie-René smiles his enigmatic Spy smile; Michael rolls his eyes and turns back to his magazine.
Heather Nova - If I Saw You In A Movie
I know if I saw you in a movie doing all the things you do I would fall in love with you
"I don't even know what you look like under that thing."
"Mystery is ze 'eart of lust. One wants what one does not know - familiarity breeds contempt."
"In other words you're really fucking ugly under that thing."
"Is zat what you would like to think, Michael?" the Spy drawls, and before the Scout can even react, he's on his stomach, the Spy behind him - he has to turn his head to see what's going on, and then the Spy's holding his shoulders down so he can't move. "You would like an ugly man doing zese things to you?"
He's still pretty well stretched out, but the Spy's fingers are cold and he's not going slow at all, two fingers and, "oh, fucking fuck -"
"You would like to be moaning like zis underneath a - how you say. An ugly son-of-a-bitch?"
The fingers twist almost viciously inside him, making him sob as they rub over his prostate, and then - they're gone. "Hmm, mon cher?" the Spy says, his voice low and sweet.
"Bullshit, man, what are you - " thicker pressure - three fingers, and he can barely breathe for a moment, " - quit fucking around and goddamn - "
"You want I should stop?" Marie-René says far too softly in his ear.
"FUCK - " the Scout swears, as the fingers inside him still, and the Spy won't let him push back against them. "Motherfuck - no, you bastard, I bet you're a goddamn movie star, just fuck me already, you fucking cocksucker - "
Bloc Party - Plans
Kiss me before it all gets complicated, I've got a taste for blood
The first kiss is probably an accident. Post-coital, the Spy slumped over his back for a moment too long. "Fucking get off -"
"Oui, oui," in a weary voice, and then the brush of his lips against the Scout's back, leaving him to wonder what the fuck was that for days.
The next time, though - he's drunk on adrenaline and the Demo's scotch, and the Spy's fucking waiting for him. "Kiss me," he says, before the Spy can bend him over or push him to his knees. "Or don't they fucking do that Over There -"
First awkward kiss turns into hungry mouths, tongue-fucking; he comes all over his shirt, fucking into that leather glove, while the Spy swallows his moans down like wine.
Snow Patrol - We Can Run Away Now, They're All Dead And Gone
Don't turn your head, pretend they're all dead and gone by now
It's never nearly as much fun in the dreams as it is when he's doing it.
The Game is running, glorying in the chase, in his own speed, in the crack of the bat on the other team's skulls.
The dreams are blood - blood and fire - and screaming, the cries of pain that he doesn't even process while he's fighting - the old Pyro, the one who was a guy, the one who laughed with him and kicked his ass at foosball and helped him play practical jokes on the Engineer, getting his brains splattered on the wall - all of the teammates he's ever lost dying before him again every night.
He wakes from them shaking and tense.
He calls himself a pussy and rolls over to sleep again.
Our Lady Peace - Thief
I don't want to understand this horror/Everybody ends up here in bottles/And we can't go home
"We all drink like fish - it's the fuckin' arena!"
It's self-medication. The taste of whiskey is better than the taste of blood (the Red team's, your own, your teammates') in your mouth. They drink before they fight, to steady their nerves; they drink after they fight, to forget. When there's no fighting planned, they drink to keep busy, to keep themselves fuzzy, to keep from having to deal too much with each others' personalities. Sometimes, at night, they drink themselves to sleep. It isn't healthy - but nothing in there is. And it's not like it's meant to be a long-term solution. There's no long-term anything for them.
30 Seconds To Mars - The Kill
What if I wanted to break, laugh it all off in your face - what would you do?
"Did you fuck her?" Marie-René asks - no, fucking demands! - pushing him against his own fucking door.
The first thing he can say is just "ow, fucker -" but the Spy pushes him again, hard. "Fuck - no, I didn't, cockfag," Michael answers, honestly, because he doesn't know what the fuck the Spy's going to do.
There's a pause, and then he's pulled away from the door - thank God - and then pushed onto the bed - fuck.
"Liar," the Spy says then, voice still angry, accent stronger than usual. He's totally fucked.
Fuel - Hemorrhage
Don't fall away and leave me to myself
The Scout slid into the Spy's lap as though he belonged there; his mouth was hot and hungry, kissing him as though - well, he had thought they would never have this again. Michael's hands tangled in Marie-Rene's hair, pulling him in. They broke apart gasping for breath, but Michael's hands kept their hold as he glared. "You ever fucking do that again, you goddamn bastard, I'll fucking kill you myself -"
Feeder - Swim
Kill, kill or be killed for - expected life to be so safe - caught, caught in a mantrap, another part of me has changed
There's a second there where he doesn't quite see through the disguise and thinks "Oh shit," and then there's a second where he recognizes the Spy despite the red Pyro gear, and then there's another second where he thinks he fucked up and he's fucking screwed forever, because whoever the shit it is, anyway, just fucking jumped him, right when he hit the landing and before he had a chance to do shit-all.
Then there's another second where he realizes that it is, in fact, Marie-René, and he realizes this because the cocksucking bastard gets him bodyslammed face against the wall - it actually fucking hurts - and whispers something gay as shit in French in his ear, all he catches is "c'est vrai," and he's surprised he even catches that much because if you asked him he'd say he didn't know any of that shitfucking Frog bullshit anyway - then fucking grinds against him. He fucking knows what that does to him -
"What fucking side are you on, cockfag?" the Scout hisses. Then the Soldier finally blasts through the door, checks his weapon at the last second before he blows a hole right through the Spy - but he's an old veteran, he makes a show of fumbling the bolt to make the miss plausible, keep up the Spy's charade for a couple more minutes, and the Scout's left with the Spy's mocking eyes and the Soldier's confusion to deal with.
My Chemical Romance - Desert Song
Did you come to stare or wash away the blood?
He'd been hit. Sniper. He was too quick, never stood in one place long enough for anybody to pick up a clear headshot, but it'd been fucking close - hole through the brim of his fucking hat, and it grazed him - scalp wounds bleed like a motherbitch, but that didn't bother him as much as the fucking hat. His hat. You don't fuck with a man's hat! It's bad fucking mojo! So he was already in a fucking awful mood, and the last thing he wanted to deal with was the fucking cockfag Spy while he was trying to get his shit together. But there the asshole was, looming in the bathroom mirror like the fucking Ghost of Christmas Past or some shit, and the Scout was about to flip off his reflection when he was there.
"Close," the Spy murmured, taking the washcloth from the Scout's hands and wiping off the blood himself - from Michael's ear, the curve of his jaw, the side of his neck; and Michael was just waiting for him to turn it into something, push him back against the wall and fuck him right there in the public fucking bathroom - fucking Sniper'd probably come in right in the middle -
But then the Spy handed the washcloth back, said "Be quicker next time, cheri - "
Gone just as quick as he'd showed up.
... The fuck was that?
Our Lady Peace - Boy
Don't carry the weight of the world, boy, help is coming
Michael is, or thinks he is, the team's tactician - appointing himself unofficial Team Leader, giving orders before the match, demanding constant updates from everyone during, yelling at them if they're off schedule.
But he'll abandon his own plans in an instant if he sees that one of his teammates needs help, throwing himself into desperate action no matter how suicidal it seems. The Pyro getting herself cornered by the other team's Heavy, Michael himself out of ammunition - he leaps in with nothing but his bat, shouting "Eat it, fatty!", dancing around the man inches ahead of the huge gun's arc of spitting bullets as the Red swivels to meet him...
Afterward, in the showers, the Spy pushes him harshly against the wall. "What ze 'ell do you t'ink you were doing? Zat was entirely unnecessary - ze Soldier was not far off - "
"Fuck you, he coulda killed her!"
"Stupeed," the Spy whispers harshly, lips nearly brushing the Scout's.
"Fuck you," the Scout repeats.
The kiss says what their words don't.
Goo Goo Dolls - Before It's Too Late
The risk that might break you's the one that would save, a life you don't live is still lost
Once, Marie-René began a sentence with a phrase that betrayed his own hope: "Someday, when we are out of here, choucroute - "
Michael pulled away in protest at both the inherent Frog cockfaggery of whatever was bound to come next, and the inherent stupidity of the idea. "When we're fucking out of here? Are you a motherfucking retard? There is no fucking out of here unless you're in a bag."
"Actually," Marie-René - who had looked into the possibility, wild as it was - was forced to admit, "zey 'ave a crematory."
"Well, there you fucking go. Don't fucking try to drag me into your nutbar plans, ok?"
But still he dreamed.
Goo Goo Dolls - Name
Did you lose yourself somewhere out there? Did you get to be a star/You grew up way too fast and now there's nothing to believe, and reruns all become our history/But I won't tell them your name
Legally, you're dead. To the Church, you're a suicide. To the world, you're a face without a name, a part in a game and nothing else. You leave yourself behind when you come in here. The Scout has grown used to it.
So when the Spy leans over him, thrusting deep inside, and whispers in his ear: "Come for me, Michael - "
Leona Lewis - Run
Even if you cannot hear my voice/I'll be right beside you, dear
"Ze point is surrounded," Michael hears in his comm.
"No shit, Sherlock, I can see that. I'm fucked to the moon."
"A diversion?" and almost on cue, there's a loud boom - the Pyro or the Demo blowing some shit up - but the Red Pyro and the Engineer don't even hardly twitch.
"No dice."
"We could wait - ze Soldier?"
"Fucking slagged. Saw the Deutschebag headed for him."
"Ze ossers?"
"No, fuck - we gotta go in there 'fore the fucking Reds get our point."
Silence as Michael readies his gun, steadies himself - gets ready to die.
"I am right behind you, Michel," Marie murmurs into the comm.
If they go out, they'll fucking be together, he thinks, and then it's blood and noise, fire and gunshots and shouting.
His leg is fucking fire with every step, and he's got scores on his side and arm. "Spy? - Spy, you there?" and Marie steps out of the shadows cradling a burnt elbow. As he kneels to check the Engineer's pulse, he looks up at the Scout and grins.
Rogue Wave - Sightlines
You can't protect the ones that you hold dear/And you'll never know how to get home again
"Hello?"
"Zis is ze Blue Scout's fazzer?"
"... Yes... ?"
"Zis is ze Blue Spy."
An audible exhale from the tapped speakerphone. "Oh."
"'appy Christmas."
"Uh, you too."
"Your son, 'e's a good boy. You should be proud of 'im."
"We are."
"An' tell 'is sister to be a good girl."
"Sure, yeah, I will - "
"'voir."
Duncan Sheik - Reasons For Living
You say you are happy, do you think this is fun?/You say this is living, you feel so alive, well you know everything dies
"Michel - why you would choose zis - "
"I fucking chose it, cockfag, and if you're fucking gonna ask me if I regret it - "
"Your sister 'as no brozzer, your fazzer - no son, you think zey prefer ze money?"
"Shut your fucking cock-holster before I shut it for you."
Death Cab For Cutie - This Temporary Life
The glass is full, the glass is broke, and every day dissolves, and there's no hope of ever leaving this temporary life
He's never been the glass-half-full type. He's been the glass-is-empty-so-you-better-buy-another-round type; lately, the fuck-the-glass-and-give-me-the-bottle type. Optimism's not Michael Connelly's strong suit. He calls himself a realist.
Marie-René, who's lived over a decade longer, who's done things Michael's never dreamt of in strange dark corners of the world, who grew up with the war instead of growing up during it, who remembers life before - still, somehow, he remains the one to cling to a forlorn hope.
Guided By Voices - Learning To Hunt
Say that you'll never run too far away, even with all the answers out there, where it's brighter but no one will care half as much as I care about you
The book got slammed down flat, cover-down, as soon as the door opened, Michael complaining: "Don't you fucking knock, assface?"
"Spy," and a shrug, were all the response that was given; then a gloved hand was gently but firmly forcing the book back up to look at the title: French For Dummies. Marie-René looked at him in surprise. "Michel - tu apprends le français?"
"Fuck you!" he said hotly, the tips of his ears going red. "I'm just using it to hide my fucking porno, ok?" And he ripped the book back and shoved it under the mattress as if it really was something dirty. But Marie was still fucking looking at him, and it seemed likely that he was about to bust out with some super-Froggy cockfaggery any second now, so he had to say something else. "How the hell else am I supposed to know what you're babbling about, huh? You could be fucking talking shit about me or something."
"You could ask me."
"Yeah, if I wanted to learn how to talk like a cockfag - "
"Ah, but zat book will not 'ave your profanities, mon cheri."
Trespassers William - Vapour Trail
And all my time is yours as much as mine, we never have enough
It won't end well.
It will end with one of them getting fragged, the other -
What will the other do?
But they don't think about it. Marie-René dreams of freedom; Michael dreams only of fire and blood; and they don't think of how it will end.
Because it won't end well.
DOWNLOAD - .zip, 94mb
Fandom: Team Fortress 2, the fic!verse that
cupiecake and I have inventedSubject: Spy/Scout, As Emo As Possible
Title: There Is No "Zis"
Warnings: NC-17 CONTENT BELOW THE CUT I REPEAT NC-17 HOMOSEXUAL (SLASH) CONTENT OF VARYING LEVELS OF EXPLICITNESS
Notes: The mix is arranged in the way that I felt flows best musically. Each track is accompanied by a lyrical snippet and a ficlet or a small section of a longer fic which has been inspired by/chosen for its appropriateness to the lyrical snippet. Because, like I said, the mix goes for musical flow, the "timeline" in the ficlets jumps around a lot; I hope this isn't too confusing to you.
All fic is a joint venture between
cupiecake and myself - I'm not sure I could tell you at this point who wrote which.The fic!verse (also the 'verse in which my RPG is set) posits that Team Fortress 2 is a deathmatch-style reality tv show in a wartorn, dystopic future. This mix and its ficlets explore the Spy, the Scout, how they deal with being stuck in the arena until they die, and how they
(click here to download without reading the gay - .zip, 94 mb)
"Michel," he said finally, still staring at the floor between his feet, "I did not mean for zis to happen." One gloved hand gestured vaguely between them. "I did not mean - to worry you."
"There is no 'zis,' cockfag. And I wasn't fucking worried - "
Deep Blue Something - Halo
If you didn't want this, and I didn't need it, then how did this interest become an addiction?
"So - you and the Spy got a thing going on?"
"No, fuck you. - Oh, for fuck's sake, don't look at me like that. It's not a thing, ok? Seriously, shut up. It's not. We're just fucking - fucking. We're just fucking. I'm his fuck-toy, ok, you happy? It's not a thing."
"Uh-huh."
"Yeah, what about you and the Demo?"
"Not a thing."
Muse - Unintended
You could be my unintended choice to live my life extended, you could be the one I'll always love
The first time he sees Marie-René naked, he's spent the last few days wondering if the man was even alive, cursing himself for being such a fucking pussy, worrying about the damn cockfag.
Marie-René is covered in bruises; he's got three neat stitches above his eyebrow that he sure as hell didn't do himself, and it wasn't the fucking medic 'cause that bastard hasn't touched the man. He'll have a spectacular black eye tomorrow, and a good sized knob on the back of his head for days where Michael'd hit him.
It's the first time they really fuck like equals.
It's the first time Marie-René falls asleep next to him, face looking eerily innocent in dreams.
It's the first time Michael really admits to himself that he's fucked.
The Hush Sound - Unsafe Safe
The last gift you'll ever get from me is the combination or the key, you won't disarm my heart
It is ironic, Marie-René thinks sometimes, that it is only when he is practically enslaved to begin with that his heart gives into enslavement as well. Often he looks at Michael Connelly and wonders what it is that this American boy-child has that he could not find in the many men and women of his freedom.
"What the fuck are you looking at, cockfag?" the boy asks, his accent glaring, his words much harsher than the expression easily read in his eyes, and Marie-René smiles his enigmatic Spy smile; Michael rolls his eyes and turns back to his magazine.
Heather Nova - If I Saw You In A Movie
I know if I saw you in a movie doing all the things you do I would fall in love with you
"I don't even know what you look like under that thing."
"Mystery is ze 'eart of lust. One wants what one does not know - familiarity breeds contempt."
"In other words you're really fucking ugly under that thing."
"Is zat what you would like to think, Michael?" the Spy drawls, and before the Scout can even react, he's on his stomach, the Spy behind him - he has to turn his head to see what's going on, and then the Spy's holding his shoulders down so he can't move. "You would like an ugly man doing zese things to you?"
He's still pretty well stretched out, but the Spy's fingers are cold and he's not going slow at all, two fingers and, "oh, fucking fuck -"
"You would like to be moaning like zis underneath a - how you say. An ugly son-of-a-bitch?"
The fingers twist almost viciously inside him, making him sob as they rub over his prostate, and then - they're gone. "Hmm, mon cher?" the Spy says, his voice low and sweet.
"Bullshit, man, what are you - " thicker pressure - three fingers, and he can barely breathe for a moment, " - quit fucking around and goddamn - "
"You want I should stop?" Marie-René says far too softly in his ear.
"FUCK - " the Scout swears, as the fingers inside him still, and the Spy won't let him push back against them. "Motherfuck - no, you bastard, I bet you're a goddamn movie star, just fuck me already, you fucking cocksucker - "
Bloc Party - Plans
Kiss me before it all gets complicated, I've got a taste for blood
The first kiss is probably an accident. Post-coital, the Spy slumped over his back for a moment too long. "Fucking get off -"
"Oui, oui," in a weary voice, and then the brush of his lips against the Scout's back, leaving him to wonder what the fuck was that for days.
The next time, though - he's drunk on adrenaline and the Demo's scotch, and the Spy's fucking waiting for him. "Kiss me," he says, before the Spy can bend him over or push him to his knees. "Or don't they fucking do that Over There -"
First awkward kiss turns into hungry mouths, tongue-fucking; he comes all over his shirt, fucking into that leather glove, while the Spy swallows his moans down like wine.
Snow Patrol - We Can Run Away Now, They're All Dead And Gone
Don't turn your head, pretend they're all dead and gone by now
It's never nearly as much fun in the dreams as it is when he's doing it.
The Game is running, glorying in the chase, in his own speed, in the crack of the bat on the other team's skulls.
The dreams are blood - blood and fire - and screaming, the cries of pain that he doesn't even process while he's fighting - the old Pyro, the one who was a guy, the one who laughed with him and kicked his ass at foosball and helped him play practical jokes on the Engineer, getting his brains splattered on the wall - all of the teammates he's ever lost dying before him again every night.
He wakes from them shaking and tense.
He calls himself a pussy and rolls over to sleep again.
Our Lady Peace - Thief
I don't want to understand this horror/Everybody ends up here in bottles/And we can't go home
"We all drink like fish - it's the fuckin' arena!"
It's self-medication. The taste of whiskey is better than the taste of blood (the Red team's, your own, your teammates') in your mouth. They drink before they fight, to steady their nerves; they drink after they fight, to forget. When there's no fighting planned, they drink to keep busy, to keep themselves fuzzy, to keep from having to deal too much with each others' personalities. Sometimes, at night, they drink themselves to sleep. It isn't healthy - but nothing in there is. And it's not like it's meant to be a long-term solution. There's no long-term anything for them.
30 Seconds To Mars - The Kill
What if I wanted to break, laugh it all off in your face - what would you do?
"Did you fuck her?" Marie-René asks - no, fucking demands! - pushing him against his own fucking door.
The first thing he can say is just "ow, fucker -" but the Spy pushes him again, hard. "Fuck - no, I didn't, cockfag," Michael answers, honestly, because he doesn't know what the fuck the Spy's going to do.
There's a pause, and then he's pulled away from the door - thank God - and then pushed onto the bed - fuck.
"Liar," the Spy says then, voice still angry, accent stronger than usual. He's totally fucked.
Fuel - Hemorrhage
Don't fall away and leave me to myself
The Scout slid into the Spy's lap as though he belonged there; his mouth was hot and hungry, kissing him as though - well, he had thought they would never have this again. Michael's hands tangled in Marie-Rene's hair, pulling him in. They broke apart gasping for breath, but Michael's hands kept their hold as he glared. "You ever fucking do that again, you goddamn bastard, I'll fucking kill you myself -"
Feeder - Swim
Kill, kill or be killed for - expected life to be so safe - caught, caught in a mantrap, another part of me has changed
There's a second there where he doesn't quite see through the disguise and thinks "Oh shit," and then there's a second where he recognizes the Spy despite the red Pyro gear, and then there's another second where he thinks he fucked up and he's fucking screwed forever, because whoever the shit it is, anyway, just fucking jumped him, right when he hit the landing and before he had a chance to do shit-all.
Then there's another second where he realizes that it is, in fact, Marie-René, and he realizes this because the cocksucking bastard gets him bodyslammed face against the wall - it actually fucking hurts - and whispers something gay as shit in French in his ear, all he catches is "c'est vrai," and he's surprised he even catches that much because if you asked him he'd say he didn't know any of that shitfucking Frog bullshit anyway - then fucking grinds against him. He fucking knows what that does to him -
"What fucking side are you on, cockfag?" the Scout hisses. Then the Soldier finally blasts through the door, checks his weapon at the last second before he blows a hole right through the Spy - but he's an old veteran, he makes a show of fumbling the bolt to make the miss plausible, keep up the Spy's charade for a couple more minutes, and the Scout's left with the Spy's mocking eyes and the Soldier's confusion to deal with.
My Chemical Romance - Desert Song
Did you come to stare or wash away the blood?
He'd been hit. Sniper. He was too quick, never stood in one place long enough for anybody to pick up a clear headshot, but it'd been fucking close - hole through the brim of his fucking hat, and it grazed him - scalp wounds bleed like a motherbitch, but that didn't bother him as much as the fucking hat. His hat. You don't fuck with a man's hat! It's bad fucking mojo! So he was already in a fucking awful mood, and the last thing he wanted to deal with was the fucking cockfag Spy while he was trying to get his shit together. But there the asshole was, looming in the bathroom mirror like the fucking Ghost of Christmas Past or some shit, and the Scout was about to flip off his reflection when he was there.
"Close," the Spy murmured, taking the washcloth from the Scout's hands and wiping off the blood himself - from Michael's ear, the curve of his jaw, the side of his neck; and Michael was just waiting for him to turn it into something, push him back against the wall and fuck him right there in the public fucking bathroom - fucking Sniper'd probably come in right in the middle -
But then the Spy handed the washcloth back, said "Be quicker next time, cheri - "
Gone just as quick as he'd showed up.
... The fuck was that?
Our Lady Peace - Boy
Don't carry the weight of the world, boy, help is coming
Michael is, or thinks he is, the team's tactician - appointing himself unofficial Team Leader, giving orders before the match, demanding constant updates from everyone during, yelling at them if they're off schedule.
But he'll abandon his own plans in an instant if he sees that one of his teammates needs help, throwing himself into desperate action no matter how suicidal it seems. The Pyro getting herself cornered by the other team's Heavy, Michael himself out of ammunition - he leaps in with nothing but his bat, shouting "Eat it, fatty!", dancing around the man inches ahead of the huge gun's arc of spitting bullets as the Red swivels to meet him...
Afterward, in the showers, the Spy pushes him harshly against the wall. "What ze 'ell do you t'ink you were doing? Zat was entirely unnecessary - ze Soldier was not far off - "
"Fuck you, he coulda killed her!"
"Stupeed," the Spy whispers harshly, lips nearly brushing the Scout's.
"Fuck you," the Scout repeats.
The kiss says what their words don't.
Goo Goo Dolls - Before It's Too Late
The risk that might break you's the one that would save, a life you don't live is still lost
Once, Marie-René began a sentence with a phrase that betrayed his own hope: "Someday, when we are out of here, choucroute - "
Michael pulled away in protest at both the inherent Frog cockfaggery of whatever was bound to come next, and the inherent stupidity of the idea. "When we're fucking out of here? Are you a motherfucking retard? There is no fucking out of here unless you're in a bag."
"Actually," Marie-René - who had looked into the possibility, wild as it was - was forced to admit, "zey 'ave a crematory."
"Well, there you fucking go. Don't fucking try to drag me into your nutbar plans, ok?"
But still he dreamed.
Goo Goo Dolls - Name
Did you lose yourself somewhere out there? Did you get to be a star/You grew up way too fast and now there's nothing to believe, and reruns all become our history/But I won't tell them your name
Legally, you're dead. To the Church, you're a suicide. To the world, you're a face without a name, a part in a game and nothing else. You leave yourself behind when you come in here. The Scout has grown used to it.
So when the Spy leans over him, thrusting deep inside, and whispers in his ear: "Come for me, Michael - "
Leona Lewis - Run
Even if you cannot hear my voice/I'll be right beside you, dear
"Ze point is surrounded," Michael hears in his comm.
"No shit, Sherlock, I can see that. I'm fucked to the moon."
"A diversion?" and almost on cue, there's a loud boom - the Pyro or the Demo blowing some shit up - but the Red Pyro and the Engineer don't even hardly twitch.
"No dice."
"We could wait - ze Soldier?"
"Fucking slagged. Saw the Deutschebag headed for him."
"Ze ossers?"
"No, fuck - we gotta go in there 'fore the fucking Reds get our point."
Silence as Michael readies his gun, steadies himself - gets ready to die.
"I am right behind you, Michel," Marie murmurs into the comm.
If they go out, they'll fucking be together, he thinks, and then it's blood and noise, fire and gunshots and shouting.
His leg is fucking fire with every step, and he's got scores on his side and arm. "Spy? - Spy, you there?" and Marie steps out of the shadows cradling a burnt elbow. As he kneels to check the Engineer's pulse, he looks up at the Scout and grins.
Rogue Wave - Sightlines
You can't protect the ones that you hold dear/And you'll never know how to get home again
"Hello?"
"Zis is ze Blue Scout's fazzer?"
"... Yes... ?"
"Zis is ze Blue Spy."
An audible exhale from the tapped speakerphone. "Oh."
"'appy Christmas."
"Uh, you too."
"Your son, 'e's a good boy. You should be proud of 'im."
"We are."
"An' tell 'is sister to be a good girl."
"Sure, yeah, I will - "
"'voir."
Duncan Sheik - Reasons For Living
You say you are happy, do you think this is fun?/You say this is living, you feel so alive, well you know everything dies
"Michel - why you would choose zis - "
"I fucking chose it, cockfag, and if you're fucking gonna ask me if I regret it - "
"Your sister 'as no brozzer, your fazzer - no son, you think zey prefer ze money?"
"Shut your fucking cock-holster before I shut it for you."
Death Cab For Cutie - This Temporary Life
The glass is full, the glass is broke, and every day dissolves, and there's no hope of ever leaving this temporary life
He's never been the glass-half-full type. He's been the glass-is-empty-so-you-better-buy-another-round type; lately, the fuck-the-glass-and-give-me-the-bottle type. Optimism's not Michael Connelly's strong suit. He calls himself a realist.
Marie-René, who's lived over a decade longer, who's done things Michael's never dreamt of in strange dark corners of the world, who grew up with the war instead of growing up during it, who remembers life before - still, somehow, he remains the one to cling to a forlorn hope.
Guided By Voices - Learning To Hunt
Say that you'll never run too far away, even with all the answers out there, where it's brighter but no one will care half as much as I care about you
The book got slammed down flat, cover-down, as soon as the door opened, Michael complaining: "Don't you fucking knock, assface?"
"Spy," and a shrug, were all the response that was given; then a gloved hand was gently but firmly forcing the book back up to look at the title: French For Dummies. Marie-René looked at him in surprise. "Michel - tu apprends le français?"
"Fuck you!" he said hotly, the tips of his ears going red. "I'm just using it to hide my fucking porno, ok?" And he ripped the book back and shoved it under the mattress as if it really was something dirty. But Marie was still fucking looking at him, and it seemed likely that he was about to bust out with some super-Froggy cockfaggery any second now, so he had to say something else. "How the hell else am I supposed to know what you're babbling about, huh? You could be fucking talking shit about me or something."
"You could ask me."
"Yeah, if I wanted to learn how to talk like a cockfag - "
"Ah, but zat book will not 'ave your profanities, mon cheri."
Trespassers William - Vapour Trail
And all my time is yours as much as mine, we never have enough
It won't end well.
It will end with one of them getting fragged, the other -
What will the other do?
But they don't think about it. Marie-René dreams of freedom; Michael dreams only of fire and blood; and they don't think of how it will end.
Because it won't end well.
DOWNLOAD - .zip, 94mb
