📝1213 words || mild hurt comfort || Sniper OCs
I have been taking walks and touching grass which helps a lot with writing, so have this random blurb I made specifically to get payback on my friends for whumping up our sniper OCs in our docs file.
Mitchell "Mick" Mundy by @wolfs-writing-den
Richard "Dick" Mundy II by @lancelou
Ricky does not plan on sleeping tonight.
He lays on the bed awake, waiting ‘til the whole building is quiet and deep in slumber. The shared room crowded in the brothers’ unexpected return, filled with various snoring and the sound of the ceiling fan barely making the room ventilated for every kid in it.
He sits up and quietly hops off the uncomfortable bunk bed, tiptoeing towards the window on the far east side of the room. It's the only one that doesn't have a proper lock, but the caretakers never noticed it. He carefully opens it, letting the cool night breeze in. He looks back to make sure everyone is still sound asleep before climbing out the window, stepping out into the yard and feeling the cold grass under his bare feet. He took a few more light steps until he reached the swings, sitting on one with a slight metal creak.
Another home rejected them.
That’s putting it generously — they were kicked out, the supposed new caretaker screaming at them while their belongings were thrown across the dirty pavement. It’s no big surprise, the lot of them are rascals, and even worse, they’re brothers; the Ride-or-Die ones, any of them gets into trouble, the other two jumps in. Some kind of tactic they’ve all wordlessly agreed upon long ago, keep each other safe — they can’t punish all three of them now, can they?
He looks up, some clouds float by the otherwise clear night sky. The stars are distant, and it’s a cold night.
Part of him feels some shame. He knows most of their antics are unreasonable; they lie, they steal, they pick fights, they ruin things “just for the hell of it”. And it’s especially outrageous since he can help it, they do know better, they just actively decide not to care. And being the troubled kids, they’re either feared by their peers or despised by the adults. And the one thing he can't help is the shame — just how many families would they disappoint? Just how many people would they bring the worst out of? Just how many more would spit at them and tell them they’re not wanted?
There was a muted crunch of grass behind him and he whips his head, meeting eyes with Micky frozen halfway of him stepping out of the same window Rick came out of.
“Bloody hell, mate. How’d you even hear that?” Micky whispers, slowly stepping out the window. Clumsily hopping to get his other leg out but still catches on the sill, he falls on the grass with a thud.
“Look at ya… your feet’s heavier than a hog, Mitchell.”
“Shut up.” Micky stands to dust himself off, walking up to his brother and taking his seat on the vacant left side swing. “The hell you out here for, anyway?”
“Just thinkin’...”
“You can do that?” Micky quips as usual, expecting for his brother to give him a punch on the shoulder. But Ricky was quiet, watching Micky pick off the stray grass that caught in his clothes.
There comes the guilt. As much of a scoundrel all three of them could be, Rick ain’t exactly innocent from starting the trouble they find themselves in. He’d argue he’s the one who causes it the most. Usually the moment he sees the tiniest crack on their new potential parent, he takes it upon himself to break it open and see how rotten they are from the inside. Even if it’s their own strategic way of judging their future home, there is that fear that maybe, just maybe, they’d have found the perfect one if he didn’t take things a step too far.
“You think we’re doin’ the right thing, Micky?”
“What you on about?”
“I mean the last home…” Ricky sighs, holding onto the left chain of the swing with both hands and slumping his weight on it. “I kinda feel bad for that old lady…”
“You mowed her lawn, Richard.”
“Yeah, and her tulips…”
“She had a bloody cat!” Mick raises both hands, “They coulda killed that poor thing if it weren’t for us! She can’t even take care of it! It’s good she don’t want us, she can’t even manage not to poison an animal. Next thing ya know she’d be makin’ us tea from her oleander shrub.”
Rick groans and drops his head to rest on his arm, shivering when he feels the gust of night breeze. His feet tap on the grass as he thinks.
Oh, Mitchell and his books… Rick didn’t even know what he did aside from destroying a garden, he just wanted to piss her off. She got annoyed that they wouldn’t finish their breakfast, so he was “punished” to mow the lawn — “You’re the eldest, aren’t you? Then ya better be leadin’ these two by example.” — his only excuse was that she never said how much of the lawn should be mowed.
“You’re too smart for your own good…” Ricky grumbles. “But really, think about it… what if… we were just… a bit nicer…”
“Then they’d eat us all alive.” Rick jumps at the new voice closer to him, so deep in thought he didn’t even notice Dick walking up to them. He drops blankets on the other two’s lap and lays another one on the grass to sit on, one arm holding tight on a jar of dried nuts.
“Where the hell did you get that?”
“Inside.” Dick answers, opening the jar to grab a handful before giving the rest to Mick. Ricky doesn't question anymore how he got in the kitchen without getting caught, or where he got the blankets, or how he got it through the window quietly — just watches as the boy lays on his blanket to stare at the sky, snacking contently on his food. Micky offers the jar to Ricky. It took him a second before grabbing a handful himself.
“I’m sure we're better off not stayin’ there.” Dick breaks the silence.
“That's what I said.”
“But…” Ricky breathes in, curling onto himself, “Don't you want a proper house to live in? Actual parents? Food we won't have to fight the other kids for?”
“We’re doin’ just fine, mate. Don't be feelin’ all guilty now.”
“Yeah! And besides, it ain't like any of ‘em twigs could fight us off.”
“That's cuz you eat like a wild dog.” Micky says, throwing a piece at Dick’s face, who simply catches it with his mouth and grinning proudly, earning a small kick from Mick to his shoulder.
Rick looks up at the sky once again. The three of them sat there, wrapped in blankets he was sure would get them scolded for dirtying up. There he feels warmth, surrounded by his only family. He knew then, he’d risk everything to find themselves a good home. One with no survival, one with no shame. And when the day comes that the world rips them apart, he’d fight tooth and nail to bring them all together.
With bloody dirty claws, he’d keep this family whole.
But tonight, they watched as the sky cleared up, the stars no longer obscured by the clouds. The wind sings for them, and food is shared among the brothers. Tonight, the stars shine bright only for them.
Was up making headcanons for my boy Ricky (along with @wolfs-writing-den and @lancelou 's Snipers) amidst this conversation, I was struck by the need to write shit and so have this ficlet I wrote in an hour. (Convo of the headcanons at the end of the post for context)
The Fishing Trip of Shame
It's typical for Ricky to call them up to spend time together. Grumpy as he is an old man, he still craves the company of the brothers he grew up with. This time though, he doesn't say what the occasion is.
"Probably having another one of those 'I'm gettin' old and don't want to waste my time' days again." The younger two probably thought. Whatever. They'll just camp with him and feed him some actual digestible food (not his MRE garbage) and he'll be up and jolly back in his job like nothin'.
Ricky said he'll pick them up with his van, so the two waited by the shed with tension in the air and a couple of bickering here and there. They might've jumped at each other if Ricky arrived any later.
"So what's the plan? Road trip?" Dicky chirps.
Ricky only hummed in response, deep in thought.
"What route? You got stops in mind? There's this place I wanna see if we're headin' that way..." Micky adds, hoping to get a better response, just to gloat at Dicky.
Rick didn't respond that time.
"He sure is gettin' old..." The two collectively thought.
The ride was quiet. Ricky didn't talk, and neither Mick and Dick wanted to say anything knowing it would end in an argument, which is the last thing they needed when Ricky's in a bad mood. At least the drive was serene, the vast view from the long roads was a pleasant sight. It didn't take long for the two to fall asleep (either from the peace and quiet or the boredom.)
The van just parked when they woke up, hearing Rick's disgruntled "Get up ya bastards" as he hopped off the vehicle. The two were greeted by the smell of salt in the air and the loud whoosh of water. They see Ricky pulling things out from the trunk as they too hopped off the van.
Still half asleep, Dick walks up to Rick. "You know calling us bastards makes you one too right? Since we're all born at the same—" Dick doesn't get to finish his sentence when his brother shoves some equipment for him to hold, then walks past him without even batting an eye.
"The hell is your problem—"
"Hey Dickhead!"
"What?!" He turns to his other brother, who's looking at him grimly while pointing at something. Dicky turns to see what he's pointing at...
It's Ricky's beloved boat swaying by the docks, and only then he realizes, he's holding fishing rods.
"Fuck."
•••••••••••••••••••••
Here's a screenshot of the convo lol anyway i'm totally normal about these little guys
I have 3 main fics I'm trying (emphasis on this) to work on that I've had since late Nov/early Dec, and I'm struggling to actually get back on them so I'm now going to scream into the void about them. Most of them are nsft and heavy angst and other "dark themes" idk I'm still wracking my brain for them.
This is mostly me incoherent blabbering about the story for a bit and how they came about because I genuinely don't know where to start if I talk about the individual stories in depth without spoiling the good parts (considering I do want these to be finished works at some point)
1. Emesis Blue - Dell Conagher/Reader
Reader and Dell having to deal with the horrors of being respawn compatible, and confiding in each other and lotsa LOTSA comfort sex.
This actually was first conceptualized about 3 years ago when I wasn't that deep into TF2 yet, but I watched Emesis Blue back then and was absolutely obsessed with Dell, he's so handsome and soft spoken it makes my heart ache I need him to tell me things are gonna be okay.
And so I tried actually writing it early December when I was starting to have more free time, I ended up slipping away from the original idea and now it's a going to be a 3 part series with non-linear storytelling (as if I don't already have enough problems when it comes to writing).
2. Emesis Blue - Spy/Reader, Soldier/Reader, a little bit of Demoman/Reader
Detective Jacques Morneau's favorite toy has found a real lover through the washed up veteran Jane Doe.
Reader is a sex worker and Spy is a regular client who's a whole bag of mixed signals, and then Soldier coming along to being the stability for Reader after all of Spy's inconsistencies and trickeries. Huge bruise on Spy's ego considering his opinions of Soldier. Oh and Demoman is FWB with Reader but they're like 100% great friends and no ulterior motives, they're partners in crime too.
This came to me at 2am in my sleep deprived delirium right before I passed out. And then I woke up to see what was written on my notes and was 89% sure I got fucking possessed that night (the actual notes itself is more impressive than this word vomit I swear).
Anyways, I wasn't confident about being able to write a coherent plot for it so I went to make a playlist for shits and giggles instead. fool. I now have a whole ass Obsidian vault for the fic because I could no longer contain it in google docs. And there is also gonna be a side-plot/spin-off of Demoman and Engie being GAY.
3. BLU Team OCs - Speeding Bullet
Scout at his rock bottom meets the assassin Sniper and convinces the man to help him kill his father.
Yes, it's the same speeding bullet comic I am working on.
Originally the whole thing started as an animation idea for 7 Minutes in Heaven by Mindless Self-Indulgence, but I lack the animation skills so I decided to make a short comic instead, which then evolved from 2 pages to a whopping 10. But I also randomly decided to make the entire team in Loadout tf and the lore just expanded as each character gets designed.
There are now more to this story than just Speeding Bullet; we have toxic Helmet Party, we have maybe a little bit of implied SwordVan history, we have Heavy Medicine, and most importantly, closet transfem Medic.
I would really love to talk more about these projects in hopes I get the motivation to actually finish them, but again I'm not really sure where to start with most of them and I'm not the best at selling them either... maybe I will keep yelling into the void about them, maybe post snippets, maybe doodle, idk. If anybody would like to hear more about them let me know, I'd be VERY happy to talk.
