#bubble-bums

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Helping (Specialized Medicine)

This is a fanfic of a fanfic that I did! I love the fic and i thought to myself, what if he couldn't love her? What if he had no choice, or he refused? So this is my very short contribution! I hope...

by CaptainKingBog

 It had been hotter than usual on the base that day. The sun beat down on them the way bullets did on the Specialist’s shield: never-ending and heavy-handed. Medic himself had briefly thought of going without his precious jacket out on the field, but he knew better and suffered each moment that he stood out on the field.

Scout took this opportunity to be as loud and annoying as possible, and it made no one feel any better. Medic had threatened him with an unnecessary surgery just to get him to shut up, (although had anyone asked if he was serious they wouldn’t have been too surprised to find out that Medic would have reviled in

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Another piece gifted by the fantastic FuryFire and I’m just jdgglfldkdjvjgkfkjf

Medic TF2- Look At Me! by CaptainKingBog

...the look of disgust curling the BLU’s bloody lips spurs you on. You grasp his neck again, but don’t squeeze, not yet. You wait for his icy gaze, but—

He won’t even look at you, leering up instead at the RED medic. As though—what? He’s more of a threat? More a threat than you—you who strangled him half to death and are perfectly prepared to do it again? You whom he wronged? You with a greater thirst for reconciliation, with a desperate cause in your mind each and every morning? You whose position, after yesterday, was still in peril? You snarl and grasp his chin. “Look at me. Not him. I don’t give a shit what he did earlier. This is about yesterday.”

The medic grins, closes his eyes. “Ah, fräulein. You’re going to waste part of your last forty-eight hours on me? I’m flattered.”

Your blood heats, races, rages behind your eyes. “My last hours here? I’ll—look at me. LOOK AT ME.” You seize his throat again, dragging the nails of thumb and forefinger into his jugular veins, digging until his eyes snap open. “Helplessness isn’t a good feeling, is it? Feels better to wish you would just hurry up and die, doesn’t it? Why don’t we move to that?” With your other hand, you press into the bullet wound at his shoulder, thumb squicking through blood and muscle until you feel the either bone or the copper of the bullet—and he hisses.

@bubble-bums BUDDY. PAL. AGAIN, THIS IS ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC. The complete lack of fucks in that facial expression, despite all the blood and bruises. Eerie and disconcerting to look at--I love it! Again, thank you SO, SO MUCH for sharing this with me! 

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Hey, I did another piece for ya! (Dis is FuryFire btw. Ill send it up on your archive if you want.)

AHHHHHHHHH PLEASE YES HOLY SHIT THANK YOU

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@bubble-bums Thank you very much ;)