Scout Suggestions! @scoutsuggestions - Tumblr Blog

raid the BLU fridge as much as barely being able to stand will allow.

i hope i’m not gonna start blood- starving soon. that could end badly when Sniper comes back.

Come back inside eventually with your son, then stop with a confused look on your face.

stumble and fall back to the floor.

here you are, barefoot because your harnesses were making you uncomfortable, and helpless on the floor.

you feel quite dizzy. that… can’t be good.

“… sni… per…”

(he looks like he hit the mental equivalent of a brick wall)

Swiftly make your way over to Spy. The brief rest has at least helped you navigate a bit better.

Crouch by him and help him to his feet, and over to a better sitting place than the floor.

“Spy,” you reply, “should I ask?”

“… i… i wish i could explain but i have no fucking idea aside from something to do with a luna moth… i’ll need my harnesses within reach in case we have to leave fast for any reason. they’re over there on the floor because i got uncomfortable… im also hungry… and i dont think its the good type… anyways… sorry about that fight, Scout…”

He was just standing there, (a bit awkwardly, admittedly) until he was adressed.

“Oh- Uh, ‘s fine. I’ve just been having a rough….week. Yeah.”

“… ok. just tell me if i can help in any way…”

he looks over at his harnesses on the floor next to the wall, having half a mind to fall out of the chair and drag himself over to them, then seems to have a realization.

he looks at Sniper for a brief moment, almost says something, then looks at Scout and decides against it.

Later, you washed up espion. Don’t start a potential arguement in front of your son.

“Err- alright then…” He immediately picks up on the glance, tempted to question it, then snapping his mouth shut upon realizing what it could lead to.

“We’re all here now… Did ya want to talk with Scout, mate?”

“i only wanted to apologize for the arguement… but we could talk about something else. i’m not sure what, though.”

“Well..?”

He glances over at Scout, taking a seat.

“D’you have anything ya want t’ talk about, son?”

He shrugs. He’s not good with being put on the spot.

“Uh- Uhm- I dunno.”

spy tries to think of something, but his head is empty.

“Welp, good talk.”

He sighs, pushing himself to his feet.

“I’ve got a thing or two I need to get done. Ceasefire ends tonight, will you all be alright ‘till then?”

“yeah. i’ll just lay low in here and then respawn. will you be alright when it actually starts?”

“Doubt it, but the old hag doesn’t care ‘bout that.”

Shrugging, Sniper glances back to Scout.

“How about you?”

#scout's rbs #food tw #blood tw #vampirism #death tw #back injury tw #violence tw #ask to tag #long post

He shrugs again.

“’Probably fine. Don’t worry.”

raid the BLU fridge as much as barely being able to stand will allow.

i hope i’m not gonna start blood- starving soon. that could end badly when Sniper comes back.

Come back inside eventually with your son, then stop with a confused look on your face.

stumble and fall back to the floor.

here you are, barefoot because your harnesses were making you uncomfortable, and helpless on the floor.

you feel quite dizzy. that… can’t be good.

“… sni… per…”

(he looks like he hit the mental equivalent of a brick wall)

Swiftly make your way over to Spy. The brief rest has at least helped you navigate a bit better.

Crouch by him and help him to his feet, and over to a better sitting place than the floor.

“Spy,” you reply, “should I ask?”

“… i… i wish i could explain but i have no fucking idea aside from something to do with a luna moth… i’ll need my harnesses within reach in case we have to leave fast for any reason. they’re over there on the floor because i got uncomfortable… im also hungry… and i dont think its the good type… anyways… sorry about that fight, Scout…”

He was just standing there, (a bit awkwardly, admittedly) until he was adressed.

“Oh- Uh, ‘s fine. I’ve just been having a rough….week. Yeah.”

“… ok. just tell me if i can help in any way…”

he looks over at his harnesses on the floor next to the wall, having half a mind to fall out of the chair and drag himself over to them, then seems to have a realization.

he looks at Sniper for a brief moment, almost says something, then looks at Scout and decides against it.

Later, you washed up espion. Don’t start a potential arguement in front of your son.

“Err- alright then…” He immediately picks up on the glance, tempted to question it, then snapping his mouth shut upon realizing what it could lead to.

“We’re all here now… Did ya want to talk with Scout, mate?”

“i only wanted to apologize for the arguement… but we could talk about something else. i’m not sure what, though.”

“Well..?”

He glances over at Scout, taking a seat.

“D’you have anything ya want t’ talk about, son?”

#scout's rbs #blood tw #food tw #vampirism tw #back injury tw

He shrugs. He’s not good with being put on the spot.

“Uh- Uhm- I dunno.”

raid the BLU fridge as much as barely being able to stand will allow.

i hope i’m not gonna start blood- starving soon. that could end badly when Sniper comes back.

Come back inside eventually with your son, then stop with a confused look on your face.

stumble and fall back to the floor.

here you are, barefoot because your harnesses were making you uncomfortable, and helpless on the floor.

you feel quite dizzy. that… can’t be good.

“… sni… per…”

(he looks like he hit the mental equivalent of a brick wall)

Swiftly make your way over to Spy. The brief rest has at least helped you navigate a bit better.

Crouch by him and help him to his feet, and over to a better sitting place than the floor.

“Spy,” you reply, “should I ask?”

“… i… i wish i could explain but i have no fucking idea aside from something to do with a luna moth… i’ll need my harnesses within reach in case we have to leave fast for any reason. they’re over there on the floor because i got uncomfortable… im also hungry… and i dont think its the good type… anyways… sorry about that fight, Scout…”

#scout's rbs #food tw #blood tw #back injury tw #vampirism #ask to tag

He was just standing there, (a bit awkwardly, admittedly) until he was adressed.

“Oh- Uh, ‘s fine. I’ve just been having a rough....week. Yeah.”

Hug your son.

Hug your dad. Try not to cry again.

#scout's rbs

Tell your son that there’s no need to be afraid of telling the truth, and that you’ll listen and believe him no matter what.

He just looks….tired. Just tired, at this point.

“’S not gonna matter much soon, anyway. This is like, some weird cathartic dream, or somethin’. Who knows,” He chuckles bitterly, running a hand through his uncharacteristically unkempt hair. “maybe that guy did actually kill me.”

He covers his face with his hands, curling in on himself slightly.

“…God, I’m so fucked up, huh? What is wrong with me?”

You’re unsure whether that question was rhetorical or not.

Sniper pauses for a minute, unsure of what to say or do about any of this. He’d like to help Scout in any way he can, but…

There’s more going on than what he can figure out on his own.

“D’you want me to sit with ya until ya calm down a bit..? So ya know this isn’t just a dream..? I dunno what all I can do, just tell me and I’ll do it, Scout.”

He cautiously reaches out to fix Scout’s hair. If there’s any sort of wariness, he puts his hand back to his side.

“Yeah, we’re fucked up, we’re mercenaries, but there’s nothin’ wrong with ya in my eyes, son.”

He sniffles, nodding a bit. He looks up after a few beats of silence, his face red and his eyes puffy.

“Yeah, Can…Can you stay here, with me? Jus- Just for a bit, I just…need you to tell me it’s gonna be okay.”

He looks like he’s on the brink of tears again. Could probably use a hug right about now (nudge nudge, wink wink).

“…Please.”

“No need t’ ask, son. I’m here.” He smiles and steps forwards, opening his arms for a hug.

“And I’ll be here as long as ya want me to be. It’s gonna be okay… It’s gonna be okay…”

He hesitates for a moment, but then accepts the hug, melting into Sniper’s arms. He inhales shakily, trying his best to not breakdown again.

“…’M…s…sorry for bein’ a mess, lately…”

His voice is muffled, probably because he has his face buried in Sniper’s shoulder again.

Sniper slowly sinks down into a sitting position, adjusting how he’s holding Scout so that he could stay there for longer.

“Nah, I can’t imagine what this must’ve been like for ya… Dealin’ with a loss like that… And m’ sorry that I couldn’ta been there for ya sooner…”

He hugs Sniper a little tighter. He’s currently kneeling beside (?) Sniper.

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for that, jeez….’s not your fault, old man. Trust me on that one, okay?”

He moves so just his chin is resting on Sniper’s shoulder, and sighs. He’s kinda glad Sniper can’t see the guilt and self-frustration on his face.

“‘S not your fault I had trouble handling it; I should’ve asked for help.”

“You should’ve, and ya didn’t, but you can’t blame yourself for that either… I don’t think any of us were really thinkin’ too straight…”

#scout's rbs #swearing tw #death m #unreality tw #ask to tag

“Yeah, yeah you’re...probably right.”

He goes quiet after that, just hugging Sniper.

Tell your son that there’s no need to be afraid of telling the truth, and that you’ll listen and believe him no matter what.

He just looks….tired. Just tired, at this point.

“’S not gonna matter much soon, anyway. This is like, some weird cathartic dream, or somethin’. Who knows,” He chuckles bitterly, running a hand through his uncharacteristically unkempt hair. “maybe that guy did actually kill me.”

He covers his face with his hands, curling in on himself slightly.

“…God, I’m so fucked up, huh? What is wrong with me?”

You’re unsure whether that question was rhetorical or not.

Sniper pauses for a minute, unsure of what to say or do about any of this. He’d like to help Scout in any way he can, but…

There’s more going on than what he can figure out on his own.

“D’you want me to sit with ya until ya calm down a bit..? So ya know this isn’t just a dream..? I dunno what all I can do, just tell me and I’ll do it, Scout.”

He cautiously reaches out to fix Scout’s hair. If there’s any sort of wariness, he puts his hand back to his side.

“Yeah, we’re fucked up, we’re mercenaries, but there’s nothin’ wrong with ya in my eyes, son.”

He sniffles, nodding a bit. He looks up after a few beats of silence, his face red and his eyes puffy.

“Yeah, Can…Can you stay here, with me? Jus- Just for a bit, I just…need you to tell me it’s gonna be okay.”

He looks like he’s on the brink of tears again. Could probably use a hug right about now (nudge nudge, wink wink).

“…Please.”

“No need t’ ask, son. I’m here.” He smiles and steps forwards, opening his arms for a hug.

“And I’ll be here as long as ya want me to be. It’s gonna be okay… It’s gonna be okay…”

He hesitates for a moment, but then accepts the hug, melting into Sniper’s arms. He inhales shakily, trying his best to not breakdown again.

“…’M…s…sorry for bein’ a mess, lately…”

His voice is muffled, probably because he has his face buried in Sniper’s shoulder again.

Sniper slowly sinks down into a sitting position, adjusting how he’s holding Scout so that he could stay there for longer.

“Nah, I can’t imagine what this must’ve been like for ya… Dealin’ with a loss like that… And m’ sorry that I couldn’ta been there for ya sooner…”

#scout's rbs #death m #swearing tw #unreality tw #ask to tag

He hugs Sniper a little tighter. He’s currently kneeling beside (?) Sniper.

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for that, jeez....’s not your fault, old man. Trust me on that one, okay?”

He moves so just his chin is resting on Sniper’s shoulder, and sighs. He’s kinda glad Sniper can’t see the guilt and self-frustration on his face.

“‘S not your fault I had trouble handling it; I should’ve asked for help.”

Tell your son that there’s no need to be afraid of telling the truth, and that you’ll listen and believe him no matter what.

He just looks....tired. Just tired, at this point.

“’S not gonna matter much soon, anyway. This is like, some weird cathartic dream, or somethin’. Who knows,” He chuckles bitterly, running a hand through his uncharacteristically unkempt hair. “maybe that guy did actually kill me.”

He covers his face with his hands, curling in on himself slightly.

“...God, I’m so fucked up, huh? What is wrong with me?”

You’re unsure whether that question was rhetorical or not.

Sniper pauses for a minute, unsure of what to say or do about any of this. He’d like to help Scout in any way he can, but…

There’s more going on than what he can figure out on his own.

“D’you want me to sit with ya until ya calm down a bit..? So ya know this isn’t just a dream..? I dunno what all I can do, just tell me and I’ll do it, Scout.”

He cautiously reaches out to fix Scout’s hair. If there’s any sort of wariness, he puts his hand back to his side.

“Yeah, we’re fucked up, we’re mercenaries, but there’s nothin’ wrong with ya in my eyes, son.”

He sniffles, nodding a bit. He looks up after a few beats of silence, his face red and his eyes puffy.

“Yeah, Can...Can you stay here, with me? Jus- Just for a bit, I just...need you to tell me it’s gonna be okay.”

He looks like he’s on the brink of tears again. Could probably use a hug right about now (nudge nudge, wink wink).

“...Please.”

“No need t’ ask, son. I’m here.” He smiles and steps forwards, opening his arms for a hug.

“And I’ll be here as long as ya want me to be. It’s gonna be okay... It’s gonna be okay...”

#scout's rbs #unreality tw #death m #ask to tag

He hesitates for a moment, but then accepts the hug, melting into Sniper’s arms. He inhales shakily, trying his best to not breakdown again.

“...’M...s...sorry for bein’ a mess, lately...”

His voice is muffled, probably because he has his face buried in Sniper’s shoulder again.

Tell your son that there’s no need to be afraid of telling the truth, and that you’ll listen and believe him no matter what.

He just looks....tired. Just tired, at this point.

“’S not gonna matter much soon, anyway. This is like, some weird cathartic dream, or somethin’. Who knows,” He chuckles bitterly, running a hand through his uncharacteristically unkempt hair. “maybe that guy did actually kill me.”

He covers his face with his hands, curling in on himself slightly.

“...God, I’m so fucked up, huh? What is wrong with me?”

You’re unsure whether that question was rhetorical or not.

Sniper pauses for a minute, unsure of what to say or do about any of this. He’d like to help Scout in any way he can, but…

There’s more going on than what he can figure out on his own.

“D’you want me to sit with ya until ya calm down a bit..? So ya know this isn’t just a dream..? I dunno what all I can do, just tell me and I’ll do it, Scout.”

He cautiously reaches out to fix Scout’s hair. If there’s any sort of wariness, he puts his hand back to his side.

“Yeah, we’re fucked up, we’re mercenaries, but there’s nothin’ wrong with ya in my eyes, son.”

#scout's rbs #death m #unreality tw #ask to tag

He sniffles, nodding a bit. He looks up after a few beats of silence, his face red and his eyes puffy.

“Yeah, Can...Can you stay here, with me? Jus- Just for a bit, I just...need you to tell me it’s gonna be okay.”

He looks like he’s on the brink of tears again. Could probably use a hug right about now (nudge nudge, wink wink).

“...Please.”

Tell your son that there’s no need to be afraid of telling the truth, and that you’ll listen and believe him no matter what.

#scout's rbs #death m #unreality tw #ask to tag

He just looks....tired. Just tired, at this point.

“’S not gonna matter much soon, anyway. This is like, some weird cathartic dream, or somethin’. Who knows,” He chuckles bitterly, running a hand through his uncharacteristically unkempt hair. “maybe that guy did actually kill me.”

He covers his face with his hands, curling in on himself slightly.

“...God, I’m so fucked up, huh? What is wrong with me?”

You’re unsure whether that question was rhetorical or not.

Chain smoke. The terrible smell distracts you from thinking about anything too deeply.

“Like father like son, eh?”

His raspy voice is coming from directly beside Scout. He’s leaning on the wall with his hands in his pockets.

How did he get here?

Scout jumped with a gasp, dropping the cigarette on the ground, and whipping around to Sniper with his arms raised like those people in cheesy fight movies. He was more jumpy than usual, which is still pretty jumpy. After a moment of recognition, he lowered his hands, looking guilty.

“…’Guess so,” He muttered, picking the cig back up from the floor.

He didn’t take a drag from it, he just…held it. A lot of emotions flitted across his face, before he settled on a slightly steely one. There was a clear edge of nervousness to it, however.

“…I-I can explain-”

He cuts Scout off, shaking his head.

“Nah mate, it’s been a long few weeks for all of us. I… Understand.”

Shrugging, he lets out a soft chuckle- one that’s laced with sympathy.

“You… Well, weren’t as subtle as you may have thought. But I s’pose that’s ‘cause we caught you off guard.”

He flicks out the decade old pack of cigarettes from his pocket, tracing his thumb over the top where the dust had been disturbed when he opened it up mere minutes ago, before putting it away with a twinge of disappointment.

Scout frowned, and then put out the cigarette into the concrete. He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms.

“…How long have you known? That I smoke, I mean.”

“I’ll be honest, not that long… I’m sure it’s been a habit for a while now, yeah?”

He flicks the cigarette case back into his pocket and outstretches a hand, silently asking for Scout to hand his over.

“I ain’t gonna snitch on ya, but it ain’t a habit I’m gonna support either… I used t’ do it, I can help ya with gettin’ back outta the habit again, if ya let me.”

He seems to genuinely want to help, and doesn’t act forceful with his hand out either. He knows his son might not choose that option, and he trusts that they know what they want as well.

He hesitates, before sighing and handing them over to Sniper.

“I haven’t…done it in months, but…Today was a lot.”

He fidgets with the lighter, flicking it on and off. He stares at the ground for a while, before looking back up at Sniper.

“….to be honest, ’m still convinced I’m gonna go to bed and everything will just…Like today didn’t happen. Like I didn’t go and get in a dumb fuckin’ fight with god-knows-what and nearly get killed, and y-”

He stops himself for a moment, suddenly much more interested in looking at the ash stain on the concrete. When he speaks he does so much more slowly and quietly than usual.

“….And you’ll be gone again. For real this time.”

His expression turns to a…dull one. Almost hopeless.

“So, I thought, ‘Why the hell not? Today’s not real anyways. Might as well burn through a pack of cigarettes like a spy. Who even fuckin’ cares, right?’”

His tone is cold and bitter, with a slight hint of anger. You’re unsure of who it’s directed at. You’re not so sure he’d even have a straight answer to give you if you pried.

Sniper pockets it with a soft smile, mumbling something about how proud he was of scout as he listens to what he has to say, the smile quickly dissipating and replaced by an expression of worry.

“Aw son, I-… I know it doesn’t feel like it’s real… I promise I’m here, and I’m not gonna leave ya again that easily, alright?”

He hesitates. “Is there anythin’ I can do t’ help..?”

#scout's rbs #smoking tw #death m #unreality tw #ask to tag

Scout glances at Sniper, a look of fear flashing across his face for a brief moment. He composes himself quickly, trying to look aloof.

“Nah, ‘s...’s a thing. It happens. Nothin’ to write home about.”

There’s an air of coldness to his words, but now you can discern it’s just an act, too. Either way, he’s clamming up, and quickly. That won’t let you help him.

Chain smoke. The terrible smell distracts you from thinking about anything too deeply.

“Like father like son, eh?”

His raspy voice is coming from directly beside Scout. He’s leaning on the wall with his hands in his pockets.

How did he get here?

Scout jumped with a gasp, dropping the cigarette on the ground, and whipping around to Sniper with his arms raised like those people in cheesy fight movies. He was more jumpy than usual, which is still pretty jumpy. After a moment of recognition, he lowered his hands, looking guilty.

“…’Guess so,” He muttered, picking the cig back up from the floor.

He didn’t take a drag from it, he just…held it. A lot of emotions flitted across his face, before he settled on a slightly steely one. There was a clear edge of nervousness to it, however.

“…I-I can explain-”

He cuts Scout off, shaking his head.

“Nah mate, it’s been a long few weeks for all of us. I… Understand.”

Shrugging, he lets out a soft chuckle- one that’s laced with sympathy.

“You… Well, weren’t as subtle as you may have thought. But I s’pose that’s ‘cause we caught you off guard.”

He flicks out the decade old pack of cigarettes from his pocket, tracing his thumb over the top where the dust had been disturbed when he opened it up mere minutes ago, before putting it away with a twinge of disappointment.

Scout frowned, and then put out the cigarette into the concrete. He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms.

“…How long have you known? That I smoke, I mean.”

“I’ll be honest, not that long… I’m sure it’s been a habit for a while now, yeah?”

He flicks the cigarette case back into his pocket and outstretches a hand, silently asking for Scout to hand his over.

“I ain’t gonna snitch on ya, but it ain’t a habit I’m gonna support either… I used t’ do it, I can help ya with gettin’ back outta the habit again, if ya let me.”

He seems to genuinely want to help, and doesn’t act forceful with his hand out either. He knows his son might not choose that option, and he trusts that they know what they want as well.

#scout's rbs #smoking tw #death m #unreality tw #ask to tag

He hesitates, before sighing and handing them over to Sniper.

"I haven't...done it in months, but...Today was a lot."

He fidgets with the lighter, flicking it on and off. He stares at the ground for a while, before looking back up at Sniper.

"....to be honest, 'm still convinced I'm gonna go to bed and everything will just...Like today didn't happen. Like I didn't go and get in a dumb fuckin' fight with god-knows-what and nearly get killed, and y-"

He stops himself for a moment, suddenly much more interested in looking at the ash stain on the concrete. When he speaks he does so much more slowly and quietly than usual.

"....And you'll be gone again. For real this time."

His expression turns to a...dull one. Almost hopeless.

"So, I thought, 'Why the hell not? Today's not real anyways. Might as well burn through a pack of cigarettes like a spy. Who even fuckin' cares, right?'"

His tone is cold and bitter, with a slight hint of anger. You're unsure of who it's directed at. You're not so sure he'd even have a straight answer to give you if you pried.

Chain smoke. The terrible smell distracts you from thinking about anything too deeply.

“Like father like son, eh?”

His raspy voice is coming from directly beside Scout. He’s leaning on the wall with his hands in his pockets.

How did he get here?

Scout jumped with a gasp, dropping the cigarette on the ground, and whipping around to Sniper with his arms raised like those people in cheesy fight movies. He was more jumpy than usual, which is still pretty jumpy. After a moment of recognition, he lowered his hands, looking guilty.

“…’Guess so,” He muttered, picking the cig back up from the floor.

He didn’t take a drag from it, he just…held it. A lot of emotions flitted across his face, before he settled on a slightly steely one. There was a clear edge of nervousness to it, however.

“…I-I can explain-”

He cuts Scout off, shaking his head.

“Nah mate, it’s been a long few weeks for all of us. I… Understand.”

Shrugging, he lets out a soft chuckle- one that’s laced with sympathy.

“You… Well, weren’t as subtle as you may have thought. But I s’pose that’s ‘cause we caught you off guard.”

He flicks out the decade old pack of cigarettes from his pocket, tracing his thumb over the top where the dust had been disturbed when he opened it up mere minutes ago, before putting it away with a twinge of disappointment.

#scout's rbs #smoking tw #ask to tag

Scout frowned, and then put out the cigarette into the concrete. He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms.

“...How long have you known? That I smoke, I mean.”

Chain smoke. The terrible smell distracts you from thinking about anything too deeply.

“Like father like son, eh?”

His raspy voice is coming from directly beside Scout. He’s leaning on the wall with his hands in his pockets.

How did he get here?